Nor Menelaus, Atreus’ valiant son,
Knew not how Menœtiades had fallen
By Trojan hands in battle; forth he rush’d
All bright in burnish’d armor through his van,
And as some heifer with maternal fears 5
Now first acquainted, compasses around
Her young one murmuring, with tender moan,
So moved the hero of the amber locks
Around Patroclus, before whom his spear
Advancing and broad shield, he death denounced 10
On all opposers; neither stood the son
Spear-famed of Panthus inattentive long
To slain Patroclus, but approach’d the dead,
And warlike Menelaus thus bespake.
Prince! Menelaus! Atreus’ mighty son! 15
Yield. Leave the body and these gory spoils;
For of the Trojans or allies of Troy
None sooner made Patroclus bleed than I.
Seek not to rob me, therefore, of my praise
Among the Trojans, lest my spear assail 20
Thee also, and thou perish premature.
To whom, indignant, Atreus’ son replied.
Self-praise, the Gods do know, is little worth.
424 But neither lion may in pride compare
Nor panther, nor the savage boar whose heart’s 25
High temper flashes in his eyes, with these
The spear accomplish’d youths of Panthus’ house.
Yet Hyperenor of equestrian fame
Lived not his lusty manhood to enjoy,
Who scoffingly defied my force in arms, 30
And call’d me most contemptible in fight
Of all the Danaï. But him, I ween,
His feet bore never hence to cheer at home
His wife and parents with his glad return.
So also shall thy courage fierce be tamed, 35
If thou oppose me. I command thee, go —
Mix with the multitude; withstand not me,
Lest evil overtake thee! To be taught
By sufferings only, is the part of fools.
He said, but him sway’d not, who thus replied. 40
Now, even now, Atrides! thou shalt rue
My brother’s blood which thou hast shed, and mak’st
His death thy boast. Thou hast his blooming bride
Widow’d, and thou hast fill’d his parents’ hearts
With anguish of unutterable wo; 45
But bearing hence thy armor and thy head
To Troy, and casting them at Panthus’ feet,
And at the feet of Phrontis, his espoused,
I shall console the miserable pair.
Nor will I leave that service unessay’d 50
Longer, nor will I fail through want of force,
Of courage, or of terrible address.
He ceased, and smote his shield, nor pierced the disk,
But bent his point against the stubborn brass.
Then Menelaus, prayer preferring first 55
To Jove, assail’d Euphorbus in his turn,
Whom pacing backward in the throat he struck,
425 And both hands and his full force the spear
Impelled, urged it through his neck behind.
Sounding he fell; loud rang his batter’d arms. 60
His locks, which even the Graces might have own’d,
Blood-sullied, and his ringlets wound about
With twine of gold and silver, swept the dust.
As the luxuriant olive by a swain
Rear’d in some solitude where rills abound, 65
Puts forth her buds, and fann’d by genial airs
On all sides, hangs her boughs with whitest flowers,
But by a sudden whirlwind from its trench
Uptorn, it lies extended on the field;
Such, Panthus’ warlike son Euphorbus seem’d, 70
By Menelaus, son of Atreus, slain
Suddenly, and of all his arms despoil’d.
But as the lion on the mountains bred,
Glorious in strength, when he hath seized the best
And fairest of the herd, with savage fangs 75
First breaks her neck, then laps the bloody paunch
Torn wide; meantime, around him, but remote,
Dogs stand and swains clamoring, yet by fear
Repress’d, annoy him not nor dare approach;
So there all wanted courage to oppose 80
The force of Menelaus, glorious Chief.
Then, easily had Menelaus borne
The armor of the son of Panthus thence,
But that Apollo the illustrious prize
Denied him, who in semblance of the Chief 85
Of the Ciconians, Mentes, prompted forth
Against him Hector terrible as Mars,
426 Whose spirit thus in accents wing’d he roused.
Hector! the chase is vain; here thou pursuest
The horses of Æacides the brave, 90
Which thou shalt never win, for they are steeds
Of fiery nature, such as ill endure
To draw or carry mortal man, himself
Except, whom an immortal mother bore.
Meantime, bold Menelaus, in defence 95
Of dead Patroclus, hath a Trojan slain
Of highest note, Euphorbus, Panthus’ son,
And hath his might in arms for ever quell’d.
So spake the God and to the fight return’d.
But grief intolerable at that word 100
Seized Hector; darting through the ranks his eye,
He knew at once who stripp’d Euphorbus’ arms,
And him knew also lying on the field,
And from his wide wound bleeding copious still.
Then dazzling bright in arms, through all the van 105
He flew, shrill-shouting, fierce as Vulcan’s fire
Unquenchable; nor were his shouts unheard
By Atreus’ son, who with his noble mind
Conferring sad, thus to himself began.
Alas! if I forsake these gorgeous spoils, 110
And leave Patroclus for my glory slain,
I fear lest the Achaians at that sight
Incensed, reproach me; and if, urged by shame,
I fight with Hector and his host, alone,
Lest, hemm’d around by multitudes, I fall; 115
For Hector, by his whole embattled force
Attended, comes. But whither tend my thoughts?
No man may combat with another fenced
By power divine and whom the Gods exalt,
But he must draw down wo on his own head. 120
Me, therefore, none of all Achaia’s host
Will blame indignant, seeing my retreat
From Hector, whom themselves the Gods assist.
But might the battle-shout of Ajax once
Reach me, with force united we would strive, 125
427 Even in opposition to a God,
To rescue for Achilles’ sake, his friend.
Task arduous! but less arduous than this.
While he thus meditated, swift advanced
The Trojan ranks, with Hector at their head. 130
He then, retiring slow, and turning oft,
Forsook the body. As by dogs and swains
With clamors loud and spears driven from the stalls
A bearded lion goes, his noble heart
Abhors retreat, and slow he quits the prey; 135
So Menelaus with slow steps forsook
Patroclus, and arrived in front, at length,
Of his own phalanx, stood, with sharpen’d eyes
Seeking vast Ajax, son of Telamon.
Him leftward, soon, of all the field he mark’d 140
Encouraging aloud his band, whose hearts
With terrors irresistible himself
Phœbus had fill’d. He ran, and at his side
Standing, incontinent him thus bespake.
My gallan
t Ajax, haste — come quickly — strive 145
With me to rescue for Achilles’ sake
His friend, though bare, for Hector hath his arms.
He said, and by his words the noble mind
Of Ajax roused; issuing through the van
He went, and Menelaus at his side. 150
Hector the body of Patroclus dragg’d,
Stript of his arms, with falchion keen erelong
Purposing to strike off his head, and cast
His trunk, drawn distant, to the dogs of Troy.
But Ajax, with broad shield tower-like, approach’d. 155
Then Hector, to his bands retreating, sprang
Into his chariot, and to others gave
The splendid arms in charge, who into Troy
Should bear the destined trophy of his praise,
But Ajax with his broad shield guarding stood 160
Slain Menœtiades, as for his whelps
The lion stands; him through some forest drear
Leading his little ones, the hunters meet;
428 Fire glimmers in his looks, and down he draws
His whole brow into frowns, covering his eyes; 165
So, guarding slain Patroclus, Ajax lour’d.
On the other side, with tender grief oppress’d
Unspeakable, brave Menelaus stood.
But Glaucus, leader of the Lycian band,
Son of Hippolochus, in bitter terms 170
Indignant, reprimanded Hector thus,
Ah, Hector, Chieftain of excelling form,
But all unfurnish’d with a warrior’s heart!
Unwarranted I deem thy great renown
Who art to flight addicted. Think, henceforth, 175
How ye shall save city and citadel
Thou and thy people born in Troy, alone.
No Lycian shall, at least, in your defence
Fight with the Grecians, for our ceaseless toil
In arms, hath ever been a thankless task. 180
Inglorious Chief! how wilt thou save a worse
From warring crowds, who hast Sarpedon left
Thy guest, thy friend, to be a spoil, a prey
To yonder Argives? While he lived he much
Thee and thy city profited, whom dead 185
Thou fear’st to rescue even from the dogs.
Now, therefore, may but my advice prevail,
Back to your country, Lycians! so, at once,
Shall remediless ruin fall on Troy.
For had the Trojans now a daring heart 190
Intrepid, such as in the breast resides
Of laborers in their country’s dear behalf,
We soon should drag Patroclus into Troy;
And were his body, from the battle drawn,
In Priam’s royal city once secured, 195
As soon, the Argives would in ransom give
Sarpedon’s body with his splendid arms
To be conducted safe into the town.
For when Patroclus fell, the friend was slain
Of such a Chief as is not in the fleet 200
For valor, and his bands are dauntless all.
429 But thou, at the first glimpse of Ajax’ eye
Confounded, hast not dared in arms to face
That warrior bold, superior far to thee.
To whom brave Hector, frowning stern, replied, 205
Why, Glaucus! should a Chief like thee his tongue
Presume to employ thus haughtily? My friend!
I thee accounted wisest, once, of all
Who dwell in fruitful Lycia, but thy speech
Now utter’d altogether merits blame, 210
In which thou tell’st me that I fear to stand
Against vast Ajax. Know that I from fight
Shrink not, nor yet from sound of prancing steeds;
But Jove’s high purpose evermore prevails
Against the thoughts of man; he turns to flight 215
The bravest, and the victory takes with ease
Even from those whom once he favor’d most.
But hither, friend! stand with me; mark my deed;
Prove me, if I be found, as thou hast said,
An idler all the day, or if by force 220
I not compel some Grecian to renounce
Patroclus, even the boldest of them all.
He ceased, and to his host exclaim’d aloud.
Trojans, and Lycians, and close-fighting sons
Of Dardanus, oh be ye men, my friends! 225
Now summon all your fortitude, while I
Put on the armor of Achilles, won
From the renown’d Patroclus slain by me.
So saying, illustrious Hector from the clash
Of spears withdrew, and with his swiftest pace 230
Departing, overtook, not far remote,
The bearers of Achilles’ arms to Troy.
Apart from all the horrors of the field
Standing, he changed his armor; gave his own
To be by them to sacred Ilium borne, 235
And the immortal arms of Peleus’ son
Achilles, by the ever-living Gods
To Peleüs given, put on. Those arms the Sire,
Now old himself, had on his son conferr’d
430 But in those arms his son grew never old. 240
Him, therefore, soon as cloud-assembler Jove
Saw glittering in divine Achilles’ arms,
Contemplative he shook his brows, and said,
Ah hapless Chief! thy death, although at hand,
Nought troubles thee. Thou wear’st his heavenly 245
Who all excels, terror of Ilium’s host.
His friend, though bold yet gentle, thou hast slain
And hast the brows and bosom of the dead
Unseemly bared: yet, bright success awhile
I give thee; so compensating thy lot, 250
From whom Andromache shall ne’er receive
Those glorious arms, for thou shalt ne’er return.
So spake the Thunderer, and his sable brows
Shaking, confirm’d the word. But Hector found
The armor apt; the God of war his soul 255
With fury fill’d, he felt his limbs afresh
Invigorated, and with loudest shouts
Return’d to his illustrious allies.
To them he seem’d, clad in those radiant arms,
Himself Achilles; rank by rank he pass’d 260
Through all the host, exhorting every Chief,
Asteropæus, Mesthles, Phorcys, Medon,
Thersilochus, Deisenor, augur Ennomus,
Chromius, Hippothoüs; all these he roused
To battle, and in accents wing’d began. 265
Hear me, ye myriads, neighbors and allies!
For not through fond desire to fill the plain
With multitudes, have I convened you here
Each from his city, but that well-inclined
To Ilium, ye might help to guard our wives 270
And little ones against the host of Greece.
Therefore it is that forage large and gifts
Providing for you, I exhaust the stores
Of Troy, and drain our people for your sake.
Turn then direct against them, and his life 275
Save each, or lose; it is the course of war.
Him who shall drag, though dead, Patroclus home
431 Into the host of Troy, and shall repulse
Ajax, I will reward with half the spoils
And half shall be my own; glory and praise 280
Shall also be his meed, equal to mine.
He ended; they compact with lifted spears
Bore on the Danaï, conceiving each
Warm expectation in his heart to wrest
From Ajax son of Telamon, the dead. 285
Vain hope! he many a lifeless Trojan heap’d
On slain Patroclus, but at length his speech
To warlike Menelaus thus address’d.
Ah, Menelaus, valiant friend! I hope
No longer, now, that even we shall ‘scape 290
Ourselves from fight; nor fear I so the loss
Of dead Patroclus, who shall soon the dogs
Of Ilium, and the fowls sate with his flesh,
As for my life I tremble and for thine,
That cloud of battle, Hector, such a gloom 295
Sheds all around; death manifest impends.
Haste — call our best, if even they can hear.
He spake, nor Menelaus not complied,
But call’d aloud on all the Chiefs of Greece.
Friends, senators, and leaders of the powers 300
Of Argos! who with Agamemnon drink
And Menelaus at the public feast,
Each bearing rule o’er many, by the will
Of Jove advanced to honor and renown!
The task were difficult to single out 305
Chief after Chief by name amid the blaze
Of such contention; but oh, come yourselves
Indignant forth, nor let the dogs of Troy
Patroclus rend, and gambol with his bones!
He ceased, whom Oïliades the swift 310
Hearing incontinent, of all the Chiefs
Ran foremost, after whom Idomeneus
Approach’d, and dread as homicidal Mars
Meriones. But never mind of man
Could even in silent recollection name 315
432 The whole vast multitude who, following these
Renew’d the battle on the part of Greece.
The Trojans first, with Hector at their head,
Wedged in close phalanx, rush’d to the assault
As when within some rapid river’s mouth 320
The billows and stream clash, on either shore
Loud sounds the roar of waves ejected wide,
Such seem’d the clamors of the Trojan host.
But the Achaians, one in heart, around
Patroclus stood, bulwark’d with shields of brass 325
And over all their glittering helmets Jove
Darkness diffused, for he had loved Patroclus
While yet he lived friend of Æacides,
And now, abhorring that the dogs of Troy
Should eat him, urged the Greeks to his defence, 330
The host of Troy first shook the Grecian host;
The body left, they fled; yet of them all,
The Trojan powers, determined as they were,
Slew none, but dragg’d the body. Neither stood
The Greeks long time aloof, soon as repulsed 335
William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 126
