Three times Patroklos tried to mount the angle of the towering
wall, and three times Phoibos Apollo battered him backward
with the immortal hands beating back the bright shield. As Patroklos
705 for the fourth time, like something more than a man, came at him
he called aloud, and spoke winged words in the voice of danger:
“Give way, illustrious Patroklos: it is not destined
that the city of the proud Trojans shall fall before your spear
nor even at the hand of Achilleus, who is far better than you are.”
710 He spoke, and Patroklos gave ground before him a great way,
avoiding the anger of him who strikes from afar, Apollo.
But Hektor inside the Skaian Gates held his single-foot horses,
and wondered whether to drive back into the carnage, and fight there,
or call aloud to his people to rally inside the wall. Thus
715 as he was pondering Phoibos Apollo came and stood by him,
assuming the likeness of a man, a young and a strong one,
Asios, who was uncle to Hektor, breaker of horses,
since he was brother of Hekabē, and the son of Dymas,
and had made his home in Phrygia by the stream of Sangarios.
720 In the likeness of this man Zeus’ son Apollo spoke to him:
“Hektor, why have you stopped fighting? You should not do it.
If I were as much stronger than you as now I am weaker!
So might you, in this evil way, hold back from the fighting.
But come! Hold straight against Patroklos your strong-footed horses.
725 You might be able to kill him. Apollo might give you such glory.”
He spoke, and went once more, a divinity, into the mortals’
struggle, while glorious Hektor called to wise Kebriones
to lash their horses into the fighting. Meanwhile Apollo
went down into the battle, and launched a deadly confusion
730 upon the Argives, and gave glory to the Trojans and Hektor.
Now Hektor let the rest of the Danaäns be, and he would not
kill them, but drove his strong-footed horses straight for Patroklos.
On the other side Patroklos sprang to the ground from his chariot
holding his spear in his left hand. In the other he caught up
735 a stone, jagged and shining, in the hold of his hand, and threw it,
leaning into the throw, nor fell short of the man he aimed at
nor threw vainly, but hit the charioteer of Hektor,
Kebriones, a bastard son of glorious Priam,
as he held the reins on his horses. The sharp stone hit him in the forehead
740 and smashed both brows in on each other, nor could the bone hold
the rock, but his eyes fell out into the dust before him
there at his feet, so that he vaulted to earth like a diver
from the carefully wrought chariot, and the life left his bones. Now
you spoke in bitter mockery over him, rider Patroklos:
745 “See now, what a light man this is, how agile an acrobat.
If only he were somewhere on the sea, where the fish swarm,
he could fill the hunger of many men, by diving for oysters;
he could go overboard from a boat even in rough weather
the way he somersaults so light to the ground from his chariot
750 now. So, to be sure, in Troy also they have their acrobats.”
He spoke so, and strode against the hero Kebriones
with the spring of a lion, who as he ravages the pastures
has been hit in the chest, and his own courage destroys him.
So in your fury you pounced, Patroklos, above Kebriones.
755 On the other side Hektor sprang to the ground from his chariot,
and the two fought it out over Kebriones, like lions
who in the high places of a mountain, both in huge courage
and both hungry, fight together over a killed deer.
So above Kebriones these two, urgent for battle,
760 Patroklos, son of Menoitios, and glorious Hektor,
were straining with the pitiless bronze to tear at each other;
since Hektor had caught him by the head, and would not let go of him,
and Patroklos had his foot on the other side, while the other
Trojans and Danaäns drove together the strength of their onset.
765 As east wind and south wind fight it out with each other
in the valleys of the mountains to shake the deep forest timber,
oak tree and ash and the cornel with the delicate bark; these
whip their wide-reaching branches against one another
in inhuman noise, and the crash goes up from the splintering timber;
770 so Trojans and Achaians springing against one another
cut men down, nor did either side think of disastrous panic,
and many sharp spears were driven home about Kebriones
and many feathered arrows sprung from the bowstrings, many
great throwing stones pounded against the shields, as they fought on
775 hard over his body, as he in the turning dust lay
mightily in his might, his horsemanship all forgotten.
So long as the sun was climbing still to the middle heaven,
so long the thrown weapons of both took hold, and men dropped under them;
but when the sun had gone to the time for unyoking of cattle,
780 then beyond their very destiny the Achaians were stronger
and dragged the hero Kebriones from under the weapons
and the clamor of the Trojans, and stripped the armor from his shoulders.
And Patroklos charged with evil intention in on the Trojans.
Three times he charged in with the force of the running war god,
785 screaming a terrible cry, and three times he cut down nine men;
but as for the fourth time he swept in, like something greater
than human, there, Patroklos, the end of your life was shown forth,
since Phoibos came against you there in the strong encounter
dangerously, nor did Patroklos see him as he moved through
790 the battle, and shrouded in a deep mist came in against him
and stood behind him, and struck his back and his broad shoulders
with a flat stroke of the hand so that his eyes spun. Phoibos
Apollo now struck away from his head the helmet
four-horned and hollow-eyed, and under the feet of the horses
795 it rolled clattering, and the plumes above it were defiled
by blood and dust. Before this time it had not been permitted
to defile in the dust this great helmet crested in horse-hair;
rather it guarded the head and the gracious brow of a godlike
man, Achilleus; but now Zeus gave it over to Hektor
800 to wear on his head, Hektor whose own death was close to him.
And in his hands was splintered all the huge, great, heavy,
iron-shod, far-shadowing spear, and away from his shoulders
dropped to the ground the shield with its shield sling and its tassels.
The lord Apollo, son of Zeus, broke the corselet upon him.
805 Disaster caught his wits, and his shining body went nerveless.
He stood stupidly, and from close behind his back a Dardanian
man hit him between the shoulders with a sharp javelin:
Euphorbos, son of Panthoös, who surpassed all men of his own age
with the throwing spear, and in horsemanship and the speed of his feet. He
810 had already brought down twenty men from their horses
since first coming, with his chariot and his learning in warfare.
He first hit you with a thrown spear, O rider Patroklos,
nor broke you, but ran
away again, snatching out the ash spear
from your body, and lost himself in the crowd, not enduring
815 to face Patroklos, naked as he was, in close combat.
Now Patroklos, broken by the spear and the god’s blow, tried
to shun death and shrink back into the swarm of his own companions.
But Hektor, when he saw high-hearted Patroklos trying
to get away, saw how he was wounded with the sharp javelin,
820 came close against him across the ranks, and with the spear stabbed him
in the depth of the belly and drove the bronze clean through. He fell,
thunderously, to the horror of all the Achaian people.
As a lion overpowers a weariless boar in wild combat
as the two fight in their pride on the high places of a mountain
825 over a little spring of water, both wanting to drink there,
and the lion beats him down by force as he fights for his breath, so
Hektor, Priam’s son, with a close spear-stroke stripped the life
from the fighting son of Menoitios, who had killed so many,
and stood above him, and spoke aloud the winged words of triumph:
830 “Patroklos, you thought perhaps of devastating our city,
of stripping from the Trojan women the day of their liberty
and dragging them off in ships to the beloved land of your fathers.
Fool! when in front of them the running horses of Hektor
strained with their swift feet into the fighting, and I with my own spear
835 am conspicuous among the fighting Trojans, I who beat from them
the day of necessity. For you, here the vultures shall eat you.
Wretch! Achilleus, great as he was, could do nothing to help you.
When he stayed behind, and you went, he must have said much to you:
‘Patroklos, lord of horses, see that you do not come back to me
840 and the hollow ships, until you have torn in blood the tunic
of manslaughtering Hektor about his chest.’ In some such
manner he spoke to you, and persuaded the fool’s heart in you.”
And now, dying, you answered him, O rider Patroklos:
“Now is your time for big words, Hektor. Yours is the victory
845 given by Kronos’ son, Zeus, and Apollo, who have subdued me
easily, since they themselves stripped the arms from my shoulders.
Even though twenty such as you had come in against me,
they would all have been broken beneath my spear, and have perished.
No, deadly destiny, with the son of Leto, has killed me,
850 and of men it was Euphorbos; you are only my third slayer.
And put away in your heart this other thing that I tell you.
You yourself are not one who shall live long, but now already
death and powerful destiny are standing beside you,
to go down under the hands of Aiakos’ great son, Achilleus.”
855 He spoke, and as he spoke the end of death closed in upon him,
and the soul fluttering free of his limbs went down into Death’s house
mourning her destiny, leaving youth and manhood behind her.
Now though he was a dead man glorious Hektor spoke to him:
“Patroklos, what is this prophecy of my headlong destruction?
860 Who knows if even Achilleus, son of lovely-haired Thetis,
might before this be struck by my spear, and his own life perish?”
He spoke, and setting his heel upon him wrenched out the bronze spear
from the wound, then spurned him away on his back from the spear. Thereafter
armed with the spear he went on, aiming a cast at Automedon,
865 the godlike henchman for the swift-footed son of Aiakos,
with the spear as he was carried away by those swift and immortal
horses the gods had given as shining gifts to Peleus.
BOOK SEVENTEEN
As Patroklos went down before the Trojans in the hard fighting
he was not unseen by Atreus’ son, warlike Menelaos,
who stalked through the ranks of the champions, helmed in the bright bronze,
and bestrode the body, as over a first-born calf the mother
5 cow stands lowing, she who has known no children before this.
So Menelaos of the fair hair stood over Patroklos
and held the spear and the perfect circle of his shield before him,
raging to cut down any man who might come forth against him.
Nor did the fall of blameless Patroklos pass unattended
10 by Panthoös’ son of the strong ash spear, Euphorbos, who standing
close to face him spoke a word to warlike Menelaos:
“Son of Atreus, Menelaos, illustrious, leader of armies:
give way, let the bloody spoils be, get back from this body,
since before me no one of the Trojans, or renowned companions,
15 struck Patroklos down with the spear in the strong encounter.
Thereby let me win this great glory among the Trojans
before I hit you and strip the sweetness of life away from you.”
Deeply stirred, Menelaos of the fair hair answered him:
“Father Zeus, it is not well for the proud man to glory.
20 Neither the fury of the leopard is such, not such is the lion’s,
nor the fury of the devastating wild boar, within whose breast
the spirit is biggest and vaunts in the pride of his strength, is so great
as goes the pride in these sons of Panthoös of the strong ash spear.
Yet even the strength of Hyperenor, breaker of horses,
25 had no joy of his youth when he stood against me and taunted me
and said that among all the Danaäns I was the weakest
in battle. Yet I think that his feet shall no more carry him
back, to pleasure his beloved wife and his honored parents.
So I think I can break your strength as well, if you only
30 stand against me. No, but I myself tell you to get back
into the multitude, not stand to face me, before you
take some harm. Once a thing has been done, the fool sees it.”
He spoke so, but did not persuade Euphorbos, who answered:
“Then, lordly Menelaos, you must now pay the penalty
35 for my brother, whom you killed, and boast that you did it,
and made his wife a widow in the depth of a young bride chamber
and left to his parents the curse of lamentation and sorrow.
Yet I might stop the mourning of these unhappy people
if I could carry back to them your head, and your armor,
40 and toss them into Panthoös’ hands, and to Phrontis the lovely.
No, this struggle shall not go long untested between us
nor yet unfought, whether it prove our strength or our terror.”
He spoke, and stabbed Menelaos’ shield in its perfect circle,
nor did the bronze break its way through, but the spearhead bent back
45 in the strong shield. And after him Atreus’ son, Menelaos,
made his prayer to father Zeus and lunged with the bronze spear
and as he was drawing back caught him in the pit of the gullet
and leaned in on the stroke in the confidence of his strong hand,
and clean through the soft part of the neck the spearpoint was driven.
50 He fell, thunderously, and his armor clattered upon him,
and his hair, lovely as the Graces, was splattered with blood, those
braided locks caught waspwise in gold and silver. As some
slip of an olive tree strong-growing that a man raises
in a lonely place, and drenched it with generous water, so that
55 it blossoms into beauty, and the blasts of winds from all quarters
a wind suddenly in a great tempest descending upon it
wrenches it out of its stand and lays it at length on the ground; such
was Euphorbos of the strong ash spear, the son of Panthoös,
60 whom Menelaos Atreides killed, and was stripping his armor.
As when in the confidence of his strength some lion
hill-reared snatches the finest cow in a herd as it pastures;
first the lion breaks her neck caught fast in the strong teeth,
then gulps down the blood and all the guts that are inward
65 savagely, as the dogs and the herdsmen raise a commotion
loudly about him, but from a distance, and are not willing
to go in and face him, since the hard green fear has hold of them;
so no heart in the breast of any Trojan had courage
to go in and face glorious Menelaos. Then easily
70 the son of Atreus might have taken the glorious armor
from Panthoös’ son, only Phoibos Apollo begrudged him
and stirred up Hektor, a match for the running war god, against him
in semblance of a man, the leader of the Kikones,
Mentes, and spoke aloud to him, and addressed him in winged words:
75 “While you, Hektor, run after what can never be captured,
the horses of valiant Aiakides; they are difficult horses
for mortal man to manage, or even to ride behind them
for all except Achilleus, who was born of an immortal mother;
meanwhile Menelaos, the warlike son of Atreus,
80 stands over Patroklos and has killed the best man of the Trojans,
Euphorbos, Panthoös’ son, and stopped his furious valor.”
So he spoke, and went back, a god, to the mortals’ struggle.
But bitter sorrow closed over Hektor’s heart in its darkness.
He looked about then across the ranks, and at once was aware
85 of the two men, one stripping the glorious armor, the other
sprawled on the ground, and blood running from the gash of the spear-thrust.
He stalked through the ranks of the champions helmed in the bright bronze
with a shrill scream, and looking like the flame of Hephaistos,
weariless. Nor did Atreus’ son fail to hear the sharp cry.
90 Deeply troubled, he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:
Ah me; if I abandon here the magnificent armor,
and Patroklos, who has fallen here for the sake of my honor,
shall not some one of the Danaäns, seeing it, hold it against me?
The Iliad of Homer Page 50
