so did the Trojans and Achaeans spring upon one another and lay
about each other, and neither side would give way. Many a pointed
spear fell to ground and many a winged arrow sped from its
bow-string about the body of Cebriones; many a great stone,
moreover, beat on many a shield as they fought around his body,
but there he lay in the whirling clouds of dust, all huge and
hugely, heedless of his driving now.

So long as the sun was still high in mid-heaven the weapons of
either side were alike deadly, and the people fell; but when he
went down towards the time when men loose their oxen, the
Achaeans proved to be beyond all forecast stronger, so that they
drew Cebriones out of range of the darts and tumult of the
Trojans, and stripped the armour from his shoulders. Then
Patroclus sprang like Mars with fierce intent and a terrific
shout upon the Trojans, and thrice did he kill nine men; but as
he was coming on like a god for a time, then, O Patroclus, was
the hour of your end approaching, for Phoebus fought you in fell
earnest. Patroclus did not see him as he moved about in the
crush, for he was enshrouded in thick darkness, and the god
struck him from behind on his back and his broad shoulders with
the flat of his hand, so that his eyes turned dizzy. Phoebus
Apollo beat the helmet from off his head, and it rolled rattling
off under the horses' feet, where its horse-hair plumes were all
begrimed with dust and blood. Never indeed had that helmet fared
so before, for it had served to protect the head and comely
forehead of the godlike hero Achilles. Now, however, Zeus
delivered it over to be worn by Hector. Nevertheless the end of
Hector also was near. The bronze-shod spear, so great and so
strong, was broken in the hand of Patroclus, while his shield
that covered him from head to foot fell to the ground as did also
the band that held it, and Apollo undid the fastenings of his
corslet.

On this his mind became clouded; his limbs failed him, and he
stood as one dazed; whereon Euphorbus son of Panthous a
Dardanian, the best spearman of his time, as also the finest
horseman and fleetest runner, came behind him and struck him in
the back with a spear, midway between the shoulders. This man as
soon as ever he had come up with his chariot had dismounted
twenty men, so proficient was he in all the arts of war--he it
was, O knight Patroclus, that first drove a weapon into you, but
he did not quite overpower you. Euphorbus then ran back into the
crowd, after drawing his ashen spear out of the wound; he would
not stand firm and wait for Patroclus, unarmed though he now was,
to attack him; but Patroclus unnerved, alike by the blow the god
had given him and by the spear-wound, drew back under cover of
his men in fear for his life. Hector on this, seeing him to be
wounded and giving ground, forced his way through the ranks, and
when close up with him struck him in the lower part of the belly
with a spear, driving the bronze point right through it, so that
he fell heavily to the ground to the great of the Achaeans. As
when a lion has fought some fierce wild-boar and worsted him--the
two fight furiously upon the mountains over some little fountain
at which they would both drink, and the lion has beaten the boar
till he can hardly breathe--even so did Hector son of Priam take
the life of the brave son of Menoetius who had killed so many,
striking him from close at hand, and vaunting over him the while.
"Patroclus," said he, "you deemed that you should sack our city,
rob our Trojan women of their freedom, and carry them off in your
ships to your own country. Fool; Hector and his fleet horses were
ever straining their utmost to defend them. I am foremost of all
the Trojan warriors to stave the day of bondage from off them; as
for you, vultures shall devour you here. Poor wretch, Achilles
with all his bravery availed you nothing; and yet I ween when you
left him he charged you straitly saying, 'Come not back to the
ships, knight Patroclus, till you have rent the bloodstained
shirt of murderous Hector about his body.' Thus I ween did he
charge you, and your fool's heart answered him 'yea' within you."

Then, as the life ebbed out of you, you answered, O knight
Patroclus: "Hector, vaunt as you will, for Jove the son of Saturn
and Apollo have vouchsafed you victory; it is they who have
vanquished me so easily, and they who have stripped the armour
from my shoulders; had twenty such men as you attacked me, all of
them would have fallen before my spear. Fate and the son of Leto
have overpowered me, and among mortal men Euphorbus; you are
yourself third only in the killing of me. I say further, and lay
my saying to your heart, you too shall live but for a little
season; death and the day of your doom are close upon you, and
they will lay you low by the hand of Achilles son of Aeacus."

When he had thus spoken his eyes were closed in death, his soul
left his body and flitted down to the house of Hades, mourning
its sad fate and bidding farewell to the youth and vigor of its
manhood. Dead though he was, Hector still spoke to him saying,
"Patroclus, why should you thus foretell my doom? Who knows but
Achilles, son of lovely Thetis, may be smitten by my spear and
die before me?"

As he spoke he drew the bronze spear from the wound, planting his
foot upon the body, which he thrust off and let lie on its back.
He then went spear in hand after Automedon, squire of the fleet
descendant of Aeacus, for he longed to lay him low, but the
immortal steeds which the gods had given as a rich gift to Peleus
bore him swiftly from the field.



BOOK XVII


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