ἸΛΙΆΣ 17

Οὐδ’ ἔλαθ’ Ἀτρέος υἱὸν ἀρηΐφιλον Μενέλαον,
Πάτροκλος Τρώεσσι δαμεὶς ἐν δηϊοτῆτι.
βῆ δὲ διὰ προμάχων κεκορυθμένος αἴθοπι χαλκῷ,
ἀμφὶ δ’ ἄρ’ αὐτῷ βαῖν’ ὥς τις περὶ πόρτακι μήτηρ
πρωτοτόκος κινυρή, οὐ πρὶν εἰδυῖα τόκοιο·
ὣς περὶ Πατρόκλῳ βαῖνε ξανθὸς Μενέλαος.
πρόσθε δέ οἱ δόρυ τ’ ἔσχε καὶ ἀσπίδα πάντοσ’ ἐΐσην,
τὸν κτάμεναι μεμαὼς ὅς τις τοῦ γ’ ἀντίος ἔλθοι.
οὐδ’ ἄρα Πάνθου υἱὸς ἐϋμμελίης ἀμέλησε
Πατρόκλοιο πεσόντος ἀμύμονος· ἄγχι δ’ ἄρ’ αὐτοῦ
ἔστη, καὶ προσέειπεν ἀρηΐφιλον Μενέλαον·
«Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
χάζεο, λεῖπε δὲ νεκρόν, ἔα δ’ ἔναρα βροτόεντα·
οὐ γάρ τις πρότερος Τρώων κλειτῶν τ’ ἐπικούρων
Πάτροκλον βάλε δουρὶ κατὰ κρατερὴν ὑσμίνην·
τώ με ἔα κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἐνὶ Τρώεσσιν ἀρέσθαι,
μή σε βάλω, ἀπὸ δὲ μελιηδέα θυμὸν ἕλωμαι.»
Τὸν δὲ μέγ’ ὀχθήσας προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
«Ζεῦ πάτερ, οὐ μὲν καλὸν ὑπέρβιον εὐχετάασθαι.
οὔτ’ οὖν παρδάλιος τόσσον μένος οὔτε λέοντος
οὔτε συὸς κάπρου ὀλοόφρονος, οὗ τε μέγιστος

θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι περὶ σθένεϊ βλεμεαίνει,
ὅσσον Πάνθου υἷες ἐϋμμελίαι φρονέουσιν.
οὐδὲ μὲν οὐδὲ βίη Ὑπερήνορος ἱπποδάμοιο
ἧς ἥβης ἀπόνηθ’, ὅτε μ’ ὤνατο καί μ’ ὑπέμεινε
καί μ’ ἔφατ’ ἐν Δαναοῖσιν ἐλέγχιστον πολεμιστὴν
ἔμμεναι· οὐδέ ἕ φημι πόδεσσί γε οἷσι κιόντα
εὐφρῆναι ἄλοχόν τε φίλην κεδνούς τε τοκῆας.
ὥς θην καὶ σὸν ἐγὼ λύσω μένος εἴ κέ μευ ἄντα
στήῃς· ἀλλά σ’ ἔγωγ’ ἀναχωρήσαντα κελεύω
ἐς πληθὺν ἰέναι, μηδ’ ἀντίος ἵστασ’ ἐμεῖο,
πρίν τι κακὸν παθέειν· ῥεχθὲν δέ τε νήπιος ἔγνω.»
Ὣς φάτο, τὸν δ’ οὐ πεῖθεν· ἀμειβόμενος δὲ προσηύδα·
«νῦν μὲν δὴ Μενέλαε διοτρεφὲς ἦ μάλα τείσεις
γνωτὸν ἐμὸν τὸν ἔπεφνες, ἐπευχόμενος δ’ ἀγορεύεις,
χήρωσας δὲ γυναῖκα μυχῷ θαλάμοιο νέοιο,
ἀρητὸν δὲ τοκεῦσι γόον καὶ πένθος ἔθηκας.
ἦ κέ σφιν δειλοῖσι γόου κατάπαυμα γενοίμην,
εἴ κεν ἐγὼ κεφαλήν τε τεὴν καὶ τεύχε’ ἐνείκας
Πάνθῳ ἐν χείρεσσι βάλω καὶ Φρόντιδι δίῃ.
ἀλλ’ οὐ μὰν ἔτι δηρὸν ἀπείρητος πόνος ἔσται
οὐδ’ ἔτ’ ἀδήριτος ἤτ’ ἀλκῆς ἤτε φόβοιο.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν οὔτησε κατ’ ἀσπίδα πάντοσ’ ἐΐσην·
οὐδ’ ἔῤῥηξεν χαλκός, ἀνεγνάμφθη δέ οἱ αἰχμὴ
ἀσπίδ’ ἐνὶ κρατερῇ· ὃ δὲ δεύτερος ὄρνυτο χαλκῷ
Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος, ἐπευξάμενος Διὶ πατρί·
ἂψ δ’ ἀναχαζομένοιο κατὰ στομάχοιο θέμεθλα
νύξ’, ἐπὶ δ’ αὐτὸς ἔρεισε βαρείῃ χειρὶ πιθήσας·
ἀντικρὺ δ’ ἁπαλοῖο δι’ αὐχένος ἤλυθ’ ἀκωκή,

δούπησεν δὲ πεσών, ἀράβησε δὲ τεύχε’ ἐπ’ αὐτῷ.
αἵματί οἱ δεύοντο κόμαι Χαρίτεσσιν ὁμοῖαι
πλοχμοί θ’, οἳ χρυσῷ τε καὶ ἀργύρῳ ἐσφήκωντο.
οἷον δὲ τρέφει ἔρνος ἀνὴρ ἐριθηλὲς ἐλαίης
χώρῳ ἐν οἰοπόλῳ, ὅθ’ ἅλις ἀναβέβροχεν ὕδωρ,
καλὸν τηλεθάον· τὸ δέ τε πνοιαὶ δονέουσι
παντοίων ἀνέμων, καί τε βρύει ἄνθεϊ λευκῷ·
ἐλθὼν δ’ ἐξαπίνης ἄνεμος σὺν λαίλαπι πολλῇ
βόθρου τ’ ἐξέστρεψε καὶ ἐξετάνυσσ’ ἐπὶ γαίῃ·
τοῖον Πάνθου υἱὸν ἐϋμμελίην Εὔφορβον
Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος ἐπεὶ κτάνε τεύχε’ ἐσύλα.
Ὡς δ’ ὅτε τίς τε λέων ὀρεσίτροφος ἀλκὶ πεποιθώς,
βοσκομένης ἀγέλης βοῦν ἁρπάσῃ ἥ τις ἀρίστη·
τῆς δ’ ἐξ αὐχέν’ ἔαξε λαβὼν κρατεροῖσιν ὀδοῦσι
πρῶτον, ἔπειτα δέ θ’ αἷμα καὶ ἔγκατα πάντα λαφύσσει
δῃῶν· ἀμφὶ δὲ τόν γε κύνες τ’ ἄνδρές τε νομῆες
πολλὰ μάλ’ ἰύζουσιν ἀπόπροθεν οὐδ’ ἐθέλουσιν
ἀντίον ἐλθέμεναι· μάλα γὰρ χλωρὸν δέος αἱρεῖ·
ὣς τῶν οὔ τινι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐτόλμα
ἀντίον ἐλθέμεναι Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
ἔνθά κε ῥεῖα φέροι κλυτὰ τεύχεα Πανθοΐδαο
Ἀτρεΐδης, εἰ μή οἱ ἀγάσσατο Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων,
ὅς ῥά οἱ Ἕκτορ’ ἐπῶρσε θοῷ ἀτάλαντον Ἄρηϊ,
ἀνέρι εἰσάμενος Κικόνων ἡγήτορι Μέντῃ·
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«Ἕκτορ, νῦν σὺ μὲν ὧδε θέεις ἀκίχητα διώκων
ἵππους Αἰακίδαο δαΐφρονος· οἳ δ’ ἀλεγεινοὶ
ἀνδράσι γε θνητοῖσι δαμήμεναι ἠδ’ ὀχέεσθαι,
ἄλλῳ γ’ ἢ Ἀχιλῆϊ, τὸν ἀθανάτη τέκε μήτηρ.
τόφρα δέ τοι Μενέλαος, ἀρήϊος Ἀτρέος υἱός,

Πατρόκλῳ περιβὰς Τρώων τὸν ἄριστον ἔπεφνε
Πανθοΐδην Εὔφορβον, ἔπαυσε δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν ὁ μὲν αὖτις ἔβη θεὸς ἂμ πόνον ἀνδρῶν,
Ἕκτορα δ’ αἰνὸν ἄχος πύκασε φρένας ἀμφὶ μελαίνας·
πάπτηνεν δ’ ἄρ’ ἔπειτα κατὰ στίχας, αὐτίκα δ’ ἔγνω
τὸν μὲν ἀπαινύμενον κλυτὰ τεύχεα, τὸν δ’ ἐπὶ γαίῃ
κείμενον· ἔρρει δ’ αἷμα κατ’ οὐταμένην ὠτειλήν.
βῆ δὲ διὰ προμάχων κεκορυθμένος αἴθοπι χαλκῷ,
ὀξέα κεκληγώς, φλογὶ εἴκελος Ἡφαίστοιο
ἀσβέστῳ· οὐδ’ υἱὸν λάθεν Ἀτρέος ὀξὺ βοήσας·
ὀχθήσας δ’ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·
«ὤ μοι ἐγών, εἰ μέν κε λίπω κάτα τεύχεα καλὰ
Πάτροκλόν θ’, ὃς κεῖται ἐμῆς ἕνεκ’ ἐνθάδε τιμῆς,
μή τίς μοι Δαναῶν νεμεσήσεται, ὅς κεν ἴδηται.
εἰ δέ κεν Ἕκτορι μοῦνος ἐὼν καὶ Τρωσὶ μάχωμαι
αἰδεσθείς, μή πώς με περιστήωσ’ ἕνα πολλοί·
Τρῶας δ’ ἐνθάδε πάντας ἄγει κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ.
ἀλλὰ τί ἤ μοι ταῦτα φίλος διελέξατο θυμός;
ὁππότ’ ἀνὴρ ἐθέλῃ πρὸς δαίμονα φωτὶ μάχεσθαι
ὅν κε θεὸς τιμᾷ, τάχα οἱ μέγα πῆμα κυλίσθη.
τώ μ’ οὔ τις Δαναῶν νεμεσήσεται, ὅς κεν ἴδηται
Ἕκτορι χωρήσαντ’, ἐπεὶ ἐκ θεόφιν πολεμίζει.
εἰ δέ που Αἴαντός γε βοὴν ἀγαθοῖο πυθοίμην,
ἄμφω κ’ αὖτις ἰόντες ἐπιμνησαίμεθα χάρμης
καὶ πρὸς δαίμονά περ, εἴ πως ἐρυσαίμεθα νεκρὸν
Πηλεΐδῃ Ἀχιλῆϊ· κακῶν δέ κε φέρτατον εἴη.»
Ἧος ὁ ταῦθ’ ὅρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
τόφρα δ’ ἐπὶ Τρώων στίχες ἤλυθον· ἦρχε δ’ ἄρ’ Ἕκτωρ.
αὐτὰρ ὅ γ’ ἐξοπίσω ἀνεχάζετο, λεῖπε δὲ νεκρόν,
ἐντροπαλιζόμενος ὥς τε λὶς ἠϋγένειος,
ὅν ῥα κύνες τε καὶ ἄνδρες ἀπὸ σταθμοῖο δίωνται

ἔγχεσι καὶ φωνῇ· τοῦ δ’ ἐν φρεσὶν ἄλκιμον ἦτορ
παχνοῦται, ἀέκων δέ τ’ ἔβη ἀπὸ μεσσαύλοιο·
ὣς ἀπὸ Πατρόκλοιο κίε ξανθὸς Μενέλαος.
στῆ δὲ μεταστρεφθεὶς ἐπεὶ ἵκετο ἔθνος ἑταίρων,
παπταίνων Αἴαντα μέγαν, Τελαμώνιον υἱόν.
τὸν δὲ μάλ’ αἶψ’ ἐνόησε μάχης ἐπ’ ἀριστερὰ πάσης
θαρσύνονθ’ ἑτάρους καὶ ἐποτρύνοντα μάχεσθαι·
θεσπέσιον γάρ σφιν φόβον ἔμβαλε Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων·
βῆ δὲ θέειν, εἶθαρ δὲ παριστάμενος ἔπος ηὔδα.
«Αἶαν, δεῦρο, πέπον, περὶ Πατρόκλοιο θανόντος
σπεύσομεν, αἴ κε νέκυν περ Ἀχιλλῆϊ προφέρωμεν
γυμνόν· ἀτὰρ τά γε τεύχε’ ἔχει κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, Αἴαντι δὲ δαΐφρονι θυμὸν ὄρινε·
βῆ δὲ διὰ προμάχων, ἅμα δὲ ξανθὸς Μενέλαος.
Ἕκτωρ μὲν Πάτροκλον ἐπεὶ κλυτὰ τεύχε’ ἀπηύρα,
ἕλχ’, ἵν’ ἀπ’ ὤμοιιν κεφαλὴν τάμοι ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
τὸν δὲ νέκυν Τρῳῇσιν ἐρυσσάμενος κυσὶ δοίη.
Αἴας δ’ ἐγγύθεν ἦλθε φέρων σάκος ἠΰτε πύργον·
Ἕκτωρ δ’ ἂψ ἐς ὅμιλον ἰὼν ἀνεχάζεθ’ ἑταίρων,
ἐς δίφρον δ’ ἀνόρουσε· δίδου δ’ ὅ γε τεύχεα καλὰ
Τρωσὶ φέρειν προτὶ ἄστυ, μέγα κλέος ἔμμεναι αὐτῷ.
Αἴας δ’ ἀμφὶ Μενοιτιάδῃ σάκος εὐρὺ καλύψας
ἑστήκει ὥς τίς τε λέων περὶ οἷσι τέκεσσιν,
ᾧ ῥά τε νήπι’ ἄγοντι συναντήσωνται ἐν ὕλῃ
ἄνδρες ἐπακτῆρες· ὃ δέ τε σθένεϊ βλεμεαίνει,
πᾶν δέ τ’ ἐπισκύνιον κάτω ἕλκεται ὄσσε καλύπτων·
ὣς Αἴας περὶ Πατρόκλῳ ἥρωϊ βεβήκει.
Ἀτρεΐδης δ’ ἑτέρωθεν ἀρηΐφιλος Μενέλαος
ἑστήκει, μέγα πένθος ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἀέξων.
Γλαῦκος δ’ Ἱππολόχοιο πάϊς, Λυκίων ἀγὸς ἀνδρῶν,
Ἕκτορ’ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν χαλεπῷ ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ·

«Ἕκτορ, εἶδος ἄριστε μάχης ἄρα πολλὸν ἐδεύεο.
ἦ σ’ αὔτως κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἔχει φύξηλιν ἐόντα.
φράζεο νῦν ὅππως κε πόλιν καὶ ἄστυ σαώσῃς
οἶος σὺν λαοῖς τοὶ Ἰλίῳ ἐγγεγάασιν·
οὐ γάρ τις Λυκίων γε μαχησόμενος Δαναοῖσιν
εἶσι περὶ πτόλιος, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἄρα τις χάρις ἦεν
μάρνασθαι δηΐοισιν ἐπ’ ἀνδράσι νωλεμὲς αἰεί.
πῶς κε σὺ χείρονα φῶτα σαώσειας μεθ’ ὅμιλον,
σχέτλι’, ἐπεὶ Σαρπηδόν’ ἅμα ξεῖνον καὶ ἑταῖρον
κάλλιπες Ἀργείοισιν ἕλωρ καὶ κύρμα γενέσθαι,
ὅς τοι πόλλ’ ὄφελος γένετο, πτόλεΐ τε καὶ αὐτῷ
ζωὸς ἐών· νῦν δ’ οὔ οἱ ἀλαλκέμεναι κύνας ἔτλης.
τὼ νῦν εἴ τις ἐμοὶ Λυκίων ἐπιπείσεται ἀνδρῶν
οἴκαδ’ ἴμεν, Τροίῃ δὲ πεφήσεται αἰπὺς ὄλεθρος.
εἰ γὰρ νῦν Τρώεσσι μένος πολυθαρσὲς ἐνείη,
ἄτρομον, οἷόν τ’ ἄνδρας ἐσέρχεται οἳ περὶ πάτρης
ἀνδράσι δυσμενέεσσι πόνον καὶ δῆριν ἔθεντο,
αἶψά κε Πάτροκλον ἐρυσαίμεθα Ἴλιον εἴσω.
εἰ δ’ οὗτος προτὶ ἄστυ μέγα Πριάμοιο ἄνακτος
ἔλθοι τεθνηὼς καί μιν ἐρυσαίμεθα χάρμης,
αἶψά κεν Ἀργεῖοι Σαρπηδόνος ἔντεα καλὰ
λύσειαν, καί κ’ αὐτὸν ἀγοίμεθα Ἴλιον εἴσω·
τοίου γὰρ θεράπων πέφατ’ ἀνέρος, ὃς μέγ’ ἄριστος
Ἀργείων παρὰ νηυσὶ καὶ ἀγχέμαχοι θεράποντες.
ἀλλὰ σύ γ’ Αἴαντος μεγαλήτορος οὐκ ἐτάλασσας
στήμεναι ἄντα κατ’ ὄσσε ἰδὼν δηΐων ἐν ἀϋτῇ,
οὐδ’ ἰθὺς μαχέσασθαι, ἐπεὶ σέο φέρτερός ἐστι.»
Τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ·
«Γλαῦκε τίη δὲ σὺ τοῖος ἐὼν ὑπέροπλον ἔειπες;

ὢ πόποι, ἦ τ’ ἐφάμην σὲ περὶ φρένας ἔμμεναι ἄλλων,
τῶν ὅσσοι Λυκίην ἐριβώλακα ναιετάουσι·
νῦν δέ σευ ὠνοσάμην πάγχυ φρένας, οἷον ἔειπες,
ὅς τέ με φῂς Αἴαντα πελώριον οὐχ ὑπομεῖναι.
οὔ τοι ἐγὼν ἔῤῥιγα μάχην οὐδὲ κτύπον ἵππων·
ἀλλ’ αἰεί τε Διὸς κρείσσων νόος αἰγιόχοιο,
ὅς τε καὶ ἄλκιμον ἄνδρα φοβεῖ καὶ ἀφείλετο νίκην
ῥηϊδίως, ὁτὲ δ’ αὐτὸς ἐποτρύνει μαχέσασθαι.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δεῦρο πέπον, παρ’ ἔμ’ ἵστασο καὶ ἴδε ἔργον,
ἠὲ πανημέριος κακὸς ἔσσομαι, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,
ἦ τινα καὶ Δαναῶν ἀλκῆς μάλα περ μεμαῶτα
σχήσω ἀμυνέμεναι περὶ Πατρόκλοιο θανόντος.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν Τρώεσσιν ἐκέκλετο μακρὸν ἀΰσας·
«Τρῶες καὶ Λύκιοι καὶ Δάρδανοι ἀγχιμαχηταί,
ἀνέρες ἔστε φίλοι, μνήσασθε δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς,
ὄφρ’ ἂν ἐγὼν Ἀχιλῆος ἀμύμονος ἔντεα δύω
καλά, τὰ Πατρόκλοιο βίην ἐνάριξα κατακτάς.»
Ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ
δηΐου ἐκ πολέμοιο· θέων δ’ ἐκίχανεν ἑταίρους
ὦκα μάλ’ οὔ πω τῆλε ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι μετασπών,
οἳ προτὶ ἄστυ φέρον κλυτὰ τεύχεα Πηλεΐωνος.
στὰς δ’ ἀπάνευθε μάχης πολυδακρύου ἔντε’ ἄμειβεν·
ἤτοι ὃ μὲν τὰ ἃ δῶκε φέρειν προτὶ Ἴλιον ἱρὴν
Τρωσὶ φιλοπτολέμοισιν, ὃ δ’ ἄμβροτα τεύχεα δῦνε
Πηλεΐδεω Ἀχιλῆος, ἅ οἱ θεοὶ Οὐρανίωνες
πατρὶ φίλῳ ἔπορον· ὁ δ’ ἄρα ᾧ παιδὶ ὄπασσε
γηράς· ἀλλ’ οὐχ υἱὸς ἐν ἔντεσι πατρὸς ἐγήρα.
Τὸν δ’ ὡς οὖν ἀπάνευθεν ἴδεν νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς

τεύχεσι Πηλεΐδαο κορυσσόμενον θείοιο,
κινήσας ῥα κάρη προτὶ ὃν μυθήσατο θυμόν·
«ἆ δείλ’, οὐδέ τί τοι θάνατος καταθύμιός ἐστιν,
ὃς δή τοι σχεδὸν εἶσι· σὺ δ’ ἄμβροτα τεύχεα δύνεις
ἀνδρὸς ἀριστῆος, τόν τε τρομέουσι καὶ ἄλλοι·
τοῦ δὴ ἑταῖρον ἔπεφνες ἐνηέα τε κρατερόν τε,
τεύχεα δ’ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον ἀπὸ κρατός τε καὶ ὤμων
εἵλευ· ἀτάρ τοι νῦν γε μέγα κράτος ἐγγυαλίξω,
τῶν ποινὴν ὅ τοι οὔ τι μάχης ἐκνοστήσαντι
δέξεται Ἀνδρομάχη κλυτὰ τεύχεα Πηλεΐωνος.»
Ἦ, καὶ κυανέῃσιν ἐπ’ ὀφρύσι νεῦσε Κρονίων.
Ἕκτορι δ’ ἥρμοσε τεύχε’ ἐπὶ χροΐ, δῦ δέ μιν Ἄρης
δεινὸς ἐνυάλιος, πλῆσθεν δ’ ἄρα οἱ μέλε’ ἐντὸς
ἀλκῆς καὶ σθένεος· μετὰ δὲ κλειτοὺς ἐπικούρους
βῆ ῥα μέγα ἰάχων· ἰνδάλλετο δέ σφισι πᾶσι
τεύχεσι λαμπόμενος μεγαθύμου Πηλεΐωνος.
ὄτρυνεν δὲ ἕκαστον ἐποιχόμενος ἐπέεσσι,
Μέσθλην τε Γλαῦκόν τε Μέδοντά τε Θερσίλοχόν τε,
Ἀστεροπαῖόν τε Δεισήνορά θ’ Ἱππόθοόν τε,
Φόρκυν τε Χρομίον τε καὶ Ἔννομον οἰωνιστήν·
τοὺς ὅ γ’ ἐποτρύνων ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«κέκλυτε, μυρία φῦλα περικτιόνων ἐπικούρων·
οὐ γὰρ ἐγὼ πληθὺν διζήμενος οὐδὲ χατίζων
ἐνθάδ’ ἀφ’ ὑμετέρων πολίων ἤγειρα ἕκαστον,
ἀλλ’ ἵνα μοι Τρώων ἀλόχους καὶ νήπια τέκνα
προφρονέως ῥύοισθε φιλοπτολέμων ὑπ’ Ἀχαιῶν.
τὰ φρονέων δώροισι κατατρύχω καὶ ἐδωδῇ
λαούς, ὑμέτερον δὲ ἑκάστου θυμὸν ἀέξω.
τώ τις νῦν ἰθὺς τετραμμένος ἢ ἀπολέσθω

ἠὲ σαωθήτω· ἡ γὰρ πολέμου ὀαριστύς.
ὃς δέ κε Πάτροκλον καὶ τεθνηῶτά περ ἔμπης
Τρῶας ἐς ἱπποδάμους ἐρύσῃ, εἴξῃ δέ οἱ Αἴας,
ἥμισυ τῷ ἐνάρων ἀποδάσσομαι, ἥμισυ δ’ αὐτὸς
ἕξω ἐγώ· τὸ δέ οἱ κλέος ἔσσεται ὅσσον ἐμοί περ.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, οἳ δ’ ἰθὺς Δαναῶν βρίσαντες ἔβησαν,
δούρατ’ ἀνασχόμενοι· μάλα δέ σφισιν ἔλπετο θυμὸς
νεκρὸν ὑπ’ Αἴαντος ἐρύειν Τελαμωνιάδαο,
νήπιοι· ἦ τε πολέσσιν ἐπ’ αὐτῷ θυμὸν ἀπηύρα.
καὶ τότ’ ἄρ’ Αἴας εἶπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸν Μενέλαον·
«ὦ πέπον, ὦ Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, οὐκέτι νῶϊ
ἔλπομαι αὐτώ περ νοστησέμεν ἐκ πολέμοιο.
οὔ τι τόσον νέκυος περιδείδια Πατρόκλοιο,
ὅς κε τάχα Τρώων κορέει κύνας ἠδ’ οἰωνούς,
ὅσσον ἐμῇ κεφαλῇ περιδείδια μή τι πάθῃσι,
καὶ σῇ, ἐπεὶ πολέμοιο νέφος περὶ πάντα καλύπτει,
Ἕκτωρ, ἡμῖν δ’ αὖτ’ ἀναφαίνεται αἰπὺς ὄλεθρος.
ἀλλ’ ἄγ’ ἀριστῆας Δαναῶν κάλει, ἤν τις ἀκούσῃ.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, οὐδ’ ἀπίθησε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,
ἤϋσεν δὲ διαπρύσιον Δαναοῖσι γεγωνώς·
«ὦ φίλοι Ἀργείων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
οἵ τε παρ’ Ἀτρεΐδῃς, Ἀγαμέμνονι καὶ Μενελάῳ,
δήμια πίνουσιν καὶ σημαίνουσιν ἕκαστος
λαοῖς· ἐκ δὲ Διὸς τιμὴ καὶ κῦδος ὀπηδεῖ.
ἀργαλέον δέ μοί ἐστι διασκοπιᾶσθαι ἕκαστον
ἡγεμόνων· τόσση γὰρ ἔρις πολέμοιο δέδηεν·
ἀλλά τις αὐτὸς ἴτω, νεμεσιζέσθω δ’ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
Πάτροκλον Τρῳῇσι κυσὶν μέλπηθρα γενέσθαι.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, ὀξὺ δ’ ἄκουσεν Ὀϊλῆος ταχὺς Αἴας·

πρῶτος δ’ ἀντίος ἦλθε θέων ἀνὰ δηϊοτῆτα,
τὸν δὲ μετ’ Ἰδομενεὺς καὶ ὀπάων Ἰδομενῆος,
Μηριόνης, ἀτάλαντος Ἐνυαλίῳ ἀνδρειφόντῃ.
τῶν δ’ ἄλλων τίς κεν ᾗσι φρεσὶν οὐνόματ’ εἴποι,
ὅσσοι δὴ μετόπισθε μάχην ἤγειραν Ἀχαιῶν;
Τρῶες δὲ προὔτυψαν ἀολλέες· ἦρχε δ’ ἄρ’ Ἕκτωρ.
ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ἐπὶ προχοῇσι διιπετέος ποταμοῖο
βέβρυχεν μέγα κῦμα ποτὶ ῥόον, ἀμφὶ δέ τ’ ἄκραι
ἠϊόνες βοόωσιν ἐρευγομένης ἁλὸς ἔξω,
τόσσῃ ἄρα Τρῶες ἰαχῇ ἴσαν. αὐτὰρ Ἀχαιοὶ
ἕστασαν ἀμφὶ Μενοιτιάδῃ ἕνα θυμὸν ἔχοντες,
φραχθέντες σάκεσιν χαλκήρεσιν· ἀμφὶ δ’ ἄρά σφι
λαμπρῇσιν κορύθεσσι Κρονίων ἠέρα πολλὴν
χεῦ’, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ Μενοιτιάδην ἔχθαιρε πάρος γε,
ὄφρα ζωὸς ἐὼν θεράπων ἦν Αἰακίδαο·
μίσησεν δ’ ἄρα μιν δηΐων κυσὶ κύρμα γενέσθαι
Τρῳῇσιν· τὼ καί οἱ ἀμυνέμεν ὦρσεν ἑταίρους.
Ὦσαν δὲ πρότεροι Τρῶες ἑλίκωπας Ἀχαιούς·
νεκρὸν δὲ προλιπόντες ὑπέτρεσαν, οὐδέ τιν’ αὐτῶν
Τρῶες ὑπέρθυμοι ἕλον ἔγχεσιν ἱέμενοί περ,
ἀλλὰ νέκυν ἐρύοντο· μίνυνθα δὲ καὶ τοῦ Ἀχαιοὶ
μέλλον ἀπέσσεσθαι· μάλα γάρ σφεας ὦκ’ ἐλέλιξεν
Αἴας, ὃς περὶ μὲν εἶδος, περὶ δ’ ἔργα τέτυκτο
τῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετ’ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα.
ἴθυσεν δὲ διὰ προμάχων συῒ εἴκελος ἀλκὴν
καπρίῳ, ὅς τ’ ἐν ὄρεσσι κύνας θαλερούς τ’ αἰζηοὺς
ῥηϊδίως ἐκέδασσεν, ἑλιξάμενος διὰ βήσσας·
ὣς υἱὸς Τελαμῶνος ἀγαυοῦ φαίδιμος Αἴας
ῥεῖα μετεισάμενος Τρώων ἐκέδασσε φάλαγγας,
οἳ περὶ Πατρόκλῳ βέβασαν, φρόνεον δὲ μάλιστα

ἄστυ πότι σφέτερον ἐρύειν καὶ κῦδος ἀρέσθαι.
Ἤτοι τὸν Λήθοιο Πελασγοῦ φαίδιμος υἱός,
Ἱππόθοος, ποδὸς ἕλκε κατὰ κρατερὴν ὑσμίνην,
δησάμενος τελαμῶνι παρὰ σφυρὸν ἀμφὶ τένοντας,
Ἕκτορι καὶ Τρώεσσι χαριζόμενος· τάχα δ’ αὐτῷ
ἦλθε κακόν, τό οἱ οὔ τις ἐρύκακεν ἱεμένων περ.
τὸν δ’ υἱὸς Τελαμῶνος ἐπαΐξας δι’ ὁμίλου
πλῆξ’ αὐτοσχεδίην κυνέης διὰ χαλκοπαρῄου·
ἤρικε δ’ ἱπποδάσεια κόρυς περὶ δουρὸς ἀκωκῇ,
πληγεῖσ’ ἔγχεΐ τε μεγάλῳ καὶ χειρὶ παχείῃ,
ἐγκέφαλος δὲ παρ’ αὐλὸν ἀνέδραμεν ἐξ ὠτειλῆς
αἱματόεις· τοῦ δ’ αὖθι λύθη μένος, ἐκ δ’ ἄρα χειρῶν
Πατρόκλοιο πόδα μεγαλήτορος ἧκε χαμᾶζε
κεῖσθαι· ὁ δ’ ἄγχ’ αὐτοῖο πέσε πρηνὴς ἐπὶ νεκρῷ,
τῆλ’ ἀπὸ Λαρίσης ἐριβώλακος, οὐδὲ τοκεῦσι
θρέπτρα φίλοις ἀπέδωκε, μινυνθάδιος δέ οἱ αἰὼν
ἔπλεθ’ ὑπ’ Αἴαντος μεγαθύμου δουρὶ δαμέντι.
Ἕκτωρ δ’ αὖτ’ Αἴαντος ἀκόντισε δουρὶ φαεινῷ·
ἀλλ’ ὁ μὲν ἄντα ἰδὼν ἠλεύατο χάλκεον ἔγχος
τυτθόν· ὃ δὲ Σχεδίον μεγαθύμου Ἰφίτου υἱόν,
Φωκήων ὄχ’ ἄριστον, ὃς ἐν κλειτῷ Πανοπῆϊ
οἰκία ναιετάασκε πολέσσ’ ἄνδρεσσιν ἀνάσσων,
τὸν βάλ’ ὑπὸ κληῗδα μέσην· διὰ δ’ ἀμπερὲς ἄκρη
αἰχμὴ χαλκείη παρὰ νείατον ὦμον ἀνέσχε·
δούπησεν δὲ πεσών, ἀράβησε δὲ τεύχε’ ἐπ’ αὐτῷ.
Αἴας δ’ αὖ Φόρκυνα δαΐφρονα Φαίνοπος υἱόν,
Ἱπποθόῳ περιβάντα μέσην κατὰ γαστέρα τύψε·
ῥῆξε δὲ θώρηκος γύαλον, διὰ δ’ ἔντερα χαλκὸς
ἤφυσ’· ὁ δ’ ἐν κονίῃσι πεσὼν ἕλε γαῖαν ἀγοστῷ.
χώρησαν δ’ ὑπό τε πρόμαχοι καὶ φαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ·
Ἀργεῖοι δὲ μέγα ἴαχον, ἐρύσαντο δὲ νεκρούς,

Φόρκυν θ’ Ἱππόθοόν τε, λύοντο δὲ τεύχε’ ἀπ’ ὤμων.
Ἔνθά κεν αὖτε Τρῶες ἀρηϊφίλων ὑπ’ Ἀχαιῶν
Ἴλιον εἰσανέβησαν ἀναλκείῃσι δαμέντες,
Ἀργεῖοι δέ κε κῦδος ἕλον καὶ ὑπὲρ Διὸς αἶσαν
κάρτεϊ καὶ σθένεϊ σφετέρῳ· ἀλλ’ αὐτὸς Ἀπόλλων
Αἰνείαν ὄτρυνε δέμας Περίφαντι ἐοικώς,
κήρυκι Ἠπυτίδῃ, ὅς οἱ παρὰ πατρὶ γέροντι
κηρύσσων γήρασκε φίλα φρεσὶ μήδεα εἰδώς·
τῷ μιν ἐεισάμενος προσέφη Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων·
«Αἰνεία, πῶς ἂν καὶ ὑπὲρ θεὸν εἰρύσσαισθε
Ἴλιον αἰπεινήν; ὡς δὴ ἴδον ἀνέρας ἄλλους
κάρτεΐ τε σθένεΐ τε πεποιθότας ἠνορέῃ τε
πλήθεΐ τε σφετέρῳ καὶ ὑπερδέα δῆμον ἔχοντας·
ἡμῖν δὲ Ζεὺς μὲν πολὺ βούλεται ἢ Δαναοῖσι
νίκην· ἀλλ’ αὐτοὶ τρεῖτ’ ἄσπετον οὐδὲ μάχεσθε.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, Αἰνείας δ’ ἑκατηβόλον Ἀπόλλωνα
ἔγνω ἐς ἄντα ἰδών, μέγα δ’ Ἕκτορα εἶπε βοήσας·
«Ἕκτόρ τ’ ἠδ’ ἄλλοι Τρώων ἀγοὶ ἠδ’ ἐπικούρων,
αἰδὼς μὲν νῦν ἧδε γ’ ἀρηϊφίλων ὑπ’ Ἀχαιῶν
Ἴλιον εἰσαναβῆναι ἀναλκείῃσι δαμέντας.
ἀλλ’ ἔτι γάρ τίς φησι θεῶν ἐμοὶ ἄγχι παραστὰς
Ζῆν’ ὕπατον μήστωρα μάχης ἐπιτάῤῥοθον εἶναι·
τώ ῥ’ ἰθὺς Δαναῶν ἴομεν, μηδ’ οἵ γε ἕκηλοι
Πάτροκλον νηυσὶν πελασαίατο τεθνηῶτα.»
Ὣς φάτο, καί ῥα πολὺ προμάχων ἐξάλμενος ἔστη·
οἱ δ’ ἐλελίχθησαν καὶ ἐναντίοι ἔσταν Ἀχαιῶν.
ἔνθ’ αὖτ’ Αἰνείας Λειώκριτον οὔτασε δουρί,
υἱὸν Ἀρίσβαντος Λυκομήδεος ἐσθλὸν ἑταῖρον.
τὸν δὲ πεσόντ’ ἐλέησεν ἀρηΐφιλος Λυκομήδης,
στῆ δὲ μάλ’ ἐγγὺς ἰών, καὶ ἀκόντισε δουρὶ φαεινῷ,
καὶ βάλεν Ἱππασίδην Ἀπισάονα ποιμένα λαῶν,

ἧπαρ ὑπὸ πραπίδων, εἶθαρ δ’ ὑπὸ γούνατ’ ἔλυσεν,
ὅς ῥ’ ἐκ Παιονίης ἐριβώλακος εἰληλούθει,
καὶ δὲ μετ’ Ἀστεροπαῖον ἀριστεύεσκε μάχεσθαι.
Τὸν δὲ πεσόντ’ ἐλέησεν ἀρήϊος Ἀστεροπαῖος,
ἴθυσεν δὲ καὶ ὃ πρόφρων Δαναοῖσι μάχεσθαι·
ἀλλ’ οὔ πως ἔτι εἶχε· σάκεσσι γὰρ ἔρχατο πάντῃ
ἑσταότες περὶ Πατρόκλῳ, πρὸ δὲ δούρατ’ ἔχοντο.
Αἴας γὰρ μάλα πάντας ἐπῴχετο πολλὰ κελεύων·
οὔτέ τιν’ ἐξοπίσω νεκροῦ χάζεσθαι ἀνώγει
οὔτέ τινα προμάχεσθαι Ἀχαιῶν ἔξοχον ἄλλων,
ἀλλὰ μάλ’ ἀμφ’ αὐτῷ βεβάμεν, σχεδόθεν δὲ μάχεσθαι.
ὣς Αἴας ἐπέτελλε πελώριος, αἵματι δὲ χθὼν
δεύετο πορφυρέῳ, τοὶ δ’ ἀγχιστῖνοι ἔπιπτον
νεκροὶ ὁμοῦ Τρώων καὶ ὑπερμενέων ἐπικούρων
καὶ Δαναῶν· οὐδ’ οἳ γὰρ ἀναιμωτί γε μάχοντο,
παυρότεροι δὲ πολὺ φθίνυθον· μέμνηντο γὰρ αἰεὶ
ἀλλήλοις ἀν’ ὅμιλον ἀλεξέμεναι φόνον αἰπύν.
Ὣς οἱ μὲν μάρναντο δέμας πυρός, οὐδέ κε φαίης
οὔτε ποτ’ ἠέλιον σῶν ἔμμεναι οὔτε σελήνην·
ἠέρι γὰρ κατέχοντο μάχης ἐπί θ’ ὅσσον ἄριστοι
ἕστασαν ἀμφὶ Μενοιτιάδῃ κατατεθνηῶτι.
οἱ δ’ ἄλλοι Τρῶες καὶ ἐϋκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοὶ
εὔκηλοι πολέμιζον ὑπ’ αἰθέρι, πέπτατο δ’ αὐγὴ
ἠελίου ὀξεῖα, νέφος δ’ οὐ φαίνετο πάσης
γαίης οὐδ’ ὀρέων· μεταπαυόμενοι δὲ μάχοντο,
ἀλλήλων ἀλεείνοντες βέλεα στονόεντα,
πολλὸν ἀφεσταότες. τοὶ δ’ ἐν μέσῳ ἄλγε’ ἔπασχον
ἠέρι καὶ πολέμῳ, τείροντο δὲ νηλέϊ χαλκῷ
ὅσσοι ἄριστοι ἔσαν· δύο δ’ οὔ πω φῶτε πεπύσθην,
ἀνέρε κυδαλίμω, Θρασυμήδης Ἀντίλοχός τε,

Πατρόκλοιο θανόντος ἀμύμονος, ἀλλ’ ἔτ’ ἔφαντο
ζωὸν ἐνὶ πρώτῳ ὁμάδῳ Τρώεσσι μάχεσθαι.
τὼ δ’ ἐπιοσσομένω θάνατον καὶ φύζαν ἑταίρων
νόσφιν ἐμαρνάσθην, ἐπεὶ ὣς ἐπετέλλετο Νέστωρ,
ὀτρύνων πόλεμον δὲ μελαινάων ἀπὸ νηῶν.
Τοῖς δὲ πανημερίοις ἔριδος μέγα νεῖκος ὀρώρει
ἀργαλέης· καμάτῳ δὲ καὶ ἱδρῷ νωλεμὲς αἰεὶ
γούνατά τε κνῆμαί τε πόδες θ’ ὑπένερθεν ἑκάστου
χεῖρές τ’ ὀφθαλμοί τε παλάσσετο μαρναμένοιιν
ἀμφ’ ἀγαθὸν θεράποντα ποδώκεος Αἰακίδαο.
ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ἀνὴρ ταύροιο βοὸς μεγάλοιο βοείην
λαοῖσιν δώῃ τανύειν, μεθύουσαν ἀλοιφῇ·
δεξάμενοι δ’ ἄρα τοί γε διαστάντες τανύουσι
κυκλόσ’, ἄφαρ δέ τε ἰκμὰς ἔβη, δύνει δέ τ’ ἀλοιφὴ
πολλῶν ἑλκόντων, τάνυται δέ τε πᾶσα διαπρό·
ὣς οἵ γ’ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα νέκυν ὀλίγῃ ἐνὶ χώρῃ
εἵλκεον ἀμφότεροι· μάλα δέ σφισιν ἔλπετο θυμός,
Τρωσὶν μὲν ἐρύειν προτὶ Ἴλιον, αὐτὰρ Ἀχαιοῖς
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς· περὶ δ’ αὐτοῦ μῶλος ὀρώρει
ἄγριος· οὐδέ κ’ Ἄρης λαοσσόος οὐδέ κ’ Ἀθήνη
τόν γε ἰδοῦσ’ ὀνόσαιτ’, οὐδ’ εἰ μάλα μιν χόλος ἵκοι·
τοῖον Ζεὺς ἐπὶ Πατρόκλῳ ἀνδρῶν τε καὶ ἵππων
ἤματι τῷ ἐτάνυσσε κακὸν πόνον· οὐδ’ ἄρα πώ τι
ᾔδεε Πάτροκλον τεθνηότα δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς·
πολλὸν γὰρ ῥ’ ἀπάνευθε νεῶν μάρναντο θοάων,
τείχει ὕπο Τρώων· τό μιν οὔ ποτε ἔλπετο θυμῷ
τεθνάμεν, ἀλλὰ ζωὸν ἐνιχριμφθέντα πύλῃσιν
ἂψ ἀπονοστήσειν, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ τὸ ἔλπετο πάμπαν,
ἐκπέρσειν πτολίεθρον ἄνευ ἕθεν, οὐδὲ σὺν αὐτῷ·
πολλάκι γὰρ τό γε μητρὸς ἐπεύθετο νόσφιν ἀκούων,

ἥ οἱ ἀπαγγέλλεσκε Διὸς μεγάλοιο νόημα.
δὴ τότε γ’ οὔ οἱ ἔειπε κακὸν τόσον ὅσσον ἐτύχθη
μήτηρ, ὅττί ῥά οἱ πολὺ φίλτατος ὤλεθ’ ἑταῖρος.
Οἱ δ’ αἰεὶ περὶ νεκρὸν ἀκαχμένα δούρατ’ ἔχοντες
νωλεμὲς ἐγχρίμπτοντο καὶ ἀλλήλους ἐνάριζον·
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων·
«ὦ φίλοι, οὐ μὰν ἧμιν ἐϋκλεὲς ἀπονέεσθαι
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς, ἀλλ’ αὐτοῦ γαῖα μέλαινα
πᾶσι χάνοι· τό κεν ἧμιν ἄφαρ πολὺ κέρδιον εἴη
εἰ τοῦτον Τρώεσσι μεθήσομεν ἱπποδάμοισιν
ἄστυ πότι σφέτερον ἐρύσαι καὶ κῦδος ἀρέσθαι.»
Ὣς δέ τις αὖ Τρώων μεγαθύμων αὐδήσασκεν·
«ὦ φίλοι, εἰ καὶ μοῖρα παρ’ ἀνέρι τῷδε δαμῆναι
πάντας ὁμῶς, μή πώ τις ἐρωείτω πολέμοιο.»
Ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, μένος δ’ ὄρσασκεν ἑκάστου.
ὣς οἱ μὲν μάρναντο, σιδήρειος δ’ ὀρυμαγδὸς
χάλκεον οὐρανὸν ἷκε δι’ αἰθέρος ἀτρυγέτοιο·
ἵπποι δ’ Αἰακίδαο μάχης ἀπάνευθεν ἐόντες
κλαῖον, ἐπεὶ δὴ πρῶτα πυθέσθην ἡνιόχοιο
ἐν κονίῃσι πεσόντος ὑφ’ Ἕκτορος ἀνδροφόνοιο.
ἦ μὰν Αὐτομέδων, Διώρεος ἄλκιμος υἱός,
πολλὰ μὲν ἂρ μάστιγι θοῇ ἐπεμαίετο θείνων,
πολλὰ δὲ μειλιχίοισι προσηύδα, πολλὰ δ’ ἀρειῇ·
τὼ δ’ οὔτ’ ἂψ ἐπὶ νῆας ἐπὶ πλατὺν Ἑλλήσποντον
ἠθελέτην ἰέναι οὔτ’ ἐς πόλεμον μετ’ Ἀχαιούς,
ἀλλ’ ὥς τε στήλη μένει ἔμπεδον, ἥ τ’ ἐπὶ τύμβῳ
ἀνέρος ἑστήκῃ τεθνηότος ἠὲ γυναικός,
ὣς μένον ἀσφαλέως περικαλλέα δίφρον ἔχοντες,
οὔδει ἐνισκίμψαντε καρήατα· δάκρυα δέ σφι
θερμὰ κατὰ βλεφάρων χαμάδις ῥέε μυρομένοισιν

ἡνιόχοιο πόθῳ· θαλερὴ δ’ ἐμιαίνετο χαίτη
ζεύγλης ἐξεριποῦσα παρὰ ζυγὸν ἀμφοτέρωθεν.
Μυρομένω δ’ ἄρα τώ γε ἰδὼν ἐλέησε Κρονίων,
κινήσας δὲ κάρη προτὶ ὃν μυθήσατο θυμόν·
«ἆ δειλώ, τί σφῶϊ δόμεν Πηλῆϊ ἄνακτι
θνητῷ, ὑμεῖς δ’ ἐστὸν ἀγήρω τ’ ἀθανάτω τε;
ἦ ἵνα δυστήνοισι μετ’ ἀνδράσιν ἄλγε’ ἔχητον;
οὐ μὲν γάρ τί πού ἐστιν ὀϊζυρώτερον ἀνδρὸς
πάντων, ὅσσά τε γαῖαν ἔπι πνείει τε καὶ ἕρπει.
ἀλλ’ οὐ μὰν ὑμῖν γε καὶ ἅρμασι δαιδαλέοισιν
Ἕκτωρ Πριαμίδης ἐποχήσεται· οὐ γὰρ ἐάσω.
ἦ οὐχ ἅλις ὡς καὶ τεύχε’ ἔχει καὶ ἐπεύχεται αὔτως;
σφῶϊν δ’ ἐν γούνεσσι βαλῶ μένος ἠδ’ ἐνὶ θυμῷ,
ὄφρα καὶ Αὐτομέδοντα σαώσετον ἐκ πολέμοιο
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς· ἔτι γάρ σφισι κῦδος ὀρέξω,
κτείνειν, εἰς ὅ κε νῆας ἐϋσσέλμους ἀφίκωνται
δύῃ τ’ ἠέλιος καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἱερὸν ἔλθῃ·»
Ὣς εἰπὼν ἵπποισιν ἐνέπνευσεν μένος ἠΰ.
τὼ δ’ ἀπὸ χαιτάων κονίην οὖδας δὲ βαλόντε
ῥίμφα φέρον θοὸν ἅρμα μετὰ Τρῶας καὶ Ἀχαιούς.
τοῖσι δ’ ἐπ’ Αὐτομέδων μάχετ’ ἀχνύμενός περ ἑταίρου,
ἵπποις ἀΐσσων ὥς τ’ αἰγυπιὸς μετὰ χῆνας·
ῥέα μὲν γὰρ φεύγεσκεν ὑπ’ ἐκ Τρώων ὀρυμαγδοῦ,
ῥεῖα δ’ ἐπαΐξασκε πολὺν καθ’ ὅμιλον ὀπάζων.
ἀλλ’ οὐχ ᾕρει φῶτας ὅτε σεύαιτο διώκειν·
οὐ γάρ πως ἦν οἶον ἐόνθ’ ἱερῷ ἐνὶ δίφρῳ
ἔγχει ἐφορμᾶσθαι καὶ ἐπίσχειν ὠκέας ἵππους.
ὀψὲ δὲ δή μιν ἑταῖρος ἀνὴρ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν

Ἀλκιμέδων, υἱὸς Λαέρκεος Αἱμονίδαο·
στῆ δ’ ὄπιθεν δίφροιο, καὶ Αὐτομέδοντα προσηύδα·
«Αὐτόμεδον, τίς τοί νυ θεῶν νηκερδέα βουλὴν
ἐν στήθεσσιν ἔθηκε, καὶ ἐξέλετο φρένας ἐσθλάς;
οἷον πρὸς Τρῶας μάχεαι πρώτῳ ἐν ὁμίλῳ
μοῦνος· ἀτάρ τοι ἑταῖρος ἀπέκτατο, τεύχεα δ’ Ἕκτωρ
αὐτὸς ἔχων ὤμοισιν ἀγάλλεται Αἰακίδαο.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτ’ Αὐτομέδων προσέφη Διώρεος υἱός·
«Ἀλκίμεδον, τίς γάρ τοι Ἀχαιῶν ἄλλος ὁμοῖος
ἵππων ἀθανάτων ἐχέμεν δμῆσίν τε μένος τε,
εἰ μὴ Πάτροκλος, θεόφιν μήστωρ ἀτάλαντος,
ζωὸς ἐών; νῦν αὖ θάνατος καὶ μοῖρα κιχάνει.
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν μάστιγα καὶ ἡνία σιγαλόεντα
δέξαι, ἐγὼ δ’ ἵππων ἀποβήσομαι, ὄφρα μάχωμαι.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, Ἀλκιμέδων δὲ βοηθόον ἅρμ’ ἐπορούσας
καρπαλίμως μάστιγα καὶ ἡνία λάζετο χερσίν,
Αὐτομέδων δ’ ἀπόρουσε· νόησε δὲ φαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ,
αὐτίκα δ’ Αἰνείαν προσεφώνεεν ἐγγὺς ἐόντα·
«Αἰνεία, Τρώων βουληφόρε χαλκοχιτώνων,
ἵππω τώδ’ ἐνόησα ποδώκεος Αἰακίδαο
ἐς πόλεμον προφανέντε σὺν ἡνιόχοισι κακοῖσι·
τώ κεν ἐελποίμην αἱρησέμεν, εἰ σύ γε θυμῷ
σῷ ἐθέλεις, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἂν ἐφορμηθέντε γε νῶϊ
τλαῖεν ἐναντίβιον στάντες μαχέσασθαι Ἄρηϊ.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, οὐδ’ ἀπίθησεν ἐῢς πάϊς Ἀγχίσαο.
τὼ δ’ ἰθὺς βήτην βοέῃς εἰλυμένω ὤμους
αὔῃσι στερεῇσι· πολὺς δ’ ἐπελήλατο χαλκός.
τοῖσι δ’ ἅμα Χρομίος τε καὶ Ἄρητος θεοειδὴς
ἤϊσαν ἀμφότεροι· μάλα δέ σφισιν ἔλπετο θυμὸς
αὐτώ τε κτενέειν ἐλάαν τ’ ἐριαύχενας ἵππους·

νήπιοι, οὐδ’ ἄρ’ ἔμελλον ἀναιμωτί γε νέεσθαι
αὖτις ἀπ’ Αὐτομέδοντος. ὁ δ’ εὐξάμενος Διὶ πατρὶ
ἀλκῆς καὶ σθένεος πλῆτο φρένας ἀμφὶ μελαίνας·
αὐτίκα δ’ Ἀλκιμέδοντα προσηύδα, πιστὸν ἑταῖρον·
«Ἀλκίμεδον, μὴ δή μοι ἀπόπροθεν ἰσχέμεν ἵππους,
ἀλλὰ μάλ’ ἐμπνείοντε μεταφρένῳ· οὐ γὰρ ἔγωγε
Ἕκτορα Πριαμίδην μένεος σχήσεσθαι ὀΐω,
πρίν γ’ ἐπ’ Ἀχιλλῆος καλλίτριχε βήμεναι ἵππω
νῶϊ κατακτείναντα, φοβῆσαί τε στίχας ἀνδρῶν
Ἀργείων, ἤ κ’ αὐτὸς ἐνὶ πρώτοισιν ἁλοίη.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν Αἴαντε καλέσσατο καὶ Μενέλαον·
«Αἴαντ’, Ἀργείων ἡγήτορε, καὶ Μενέλαε,
ἤτοι μὲν τὸν νεκρὸν ἐπιτράπεθ’ οἵ περ ἄριστοι,
ἀμφ’ αὐτῷ βεβάμεν καὶ ἀμύνεσθαι στίχας ἀνδρῶν,
νῶϊν δὲ ζωοῖσιν ἀμύνετε νηλεὲς ἦμαρ·
τῇδε γὰρ ἔβρισαν πόλεμον κάτα δακρυόεντα
Ἕκτωρ Αἰνείας θ’, οἳ Τρώων εἰσὶν ἄριστοι.
ἀλλ’ ἤτοι μὲν ταῦτα θεῶν ἐν γούνασι κεῖται·
ἥσω γὰρ καὶ ἐγώ, τὰ δέ κεν Διὶ πάντα μελήσει.»
Ἦ ῥα, καὶ ἀμπεπαλὼν προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος,
καὶ βάλεν Ἀρήτοιο κατ’ ἀσπίδα πάντοσ’ ἐΐσην·
ἡ δ’ οὐκ ἔγχος ἔρυτο, διὰ πρὸ δὲ εἴσατο χαλκός,
νειαίρῃ δ’ ἐν γαστρὶ διὰ ζωστῆρος ἔλασσεν.
ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ἂν ὀξὺν ἔχων πέλεκυν αἰζήϊος ἀνὴρ,
κόψας ἐξόπιθεν κεράων βοὸς ἀγραύλοιο,
ἶνα τάμῃ διὰ πᾶσαν, ὃ δὲ προθορὼν ἐρίπῃσιν,
ὣς ἄρ’ ὅ γε προθορὼν πέσεν ὕπτιος· ἐν δέ οἱ ἔγχος
νηδυίοισι μάλ’ ὀξὺ κραδαινόμενον λύε γυῖα.
Ἕκτωρ δ’ Αὐτομέδοντος ἀκόντισε δουρὶ φαεινῷ·
ἀλλ’ ὁ μὲν ἄντα ἰδὼν ἠλεύατο χάλκεον ἔγχος·

πρόσσω γὰρ κατέκυψε, τὸ δ’ ἐξόπιθεν δόρυ μακρὸν
οὔδει ἐνισκίμφθη, ἐπὶ δ’ οὐρίαχος πελεμίχθη
ἔγχεος· ἔνθα δ’ ἔπειτ’ ἀφίει μένος ὄβριμος Ἄρης.
καί νύ κε δὴ ξιφέεσσ’ αὐτοσχεδὸν ὁρμηθήτην
εἰ μή σφω’ Αἴαντε διέκριναν μεμαῶτε,
οἵ ῥ’ ἦλθον καθ’ ὅμιλον ἑταίρου κικλήσκοντος·
τοὺς ὑποταρβήσαντες ἐχώρησαν πάλιν αὖτις
Ἕκτωρ Αἰνείας τ’ ἠδὲ Χρομίος θεοειδής,
Ἄρητον δὲ κατ’ αὖθι λίπον δεδαϊγμένον ἦτορ,
κείμενον· Αὐτομέδων δὲ θοῷ ἀτάλαντος Ἄρηϊ
τεύχεά τ’ ἐξενάριξε καὶ εὐχόμενος ἔπος ηὔδα·
«ἦ δὴ μὰν ὀλίγον γε Μενοιτιάδαο θανόντος
κῆρ ἄχεος μεθέηκα χερείονά περ καταπέφνων.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν ἐς δίφρον ἑλὼν ἔναρα βροτόεντα
θῆκ’, ἂν δ’ αὐτὸς ἔβαινε πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθεν
αἱματόεις ὥς τίς τε λέων κατὰ ταῦρον ἐδηδώς.
Ἂψ δ’ ἐπὶ Πατρόκλῳ τέτατο κρατερὴ ὑσμίνη
ἀργαλέη πολύδακρυς, ἔγειρε δὲ νεῖκος Ἀθήνη
οὐρανόθεν καταβᾶσα· προῆκε γὰρ εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
ὀρνύμεναι Δαναούς· δὴ γὰρ νόος ἐτράπετ’ αὐτοῦ.
ἠΰτε πορφυρέην ἶριν θνητοῖσι τανύσσῃ
Ζεὺς ἐξ οὐρανόθεν, τέρας ἔμμεναι ἢ πολέμοιο,
ἢ καὶ χειμῶνος δυσθαλπέος, ὅς ῥά τε ἔργων
ἀνθρώπους ἀνέπαυσεν ἐπὶ χθονί, μῆλα δὲ κήδει,
ὣς ἡ πορφυρέῃ νεφέλῃ πυκάσασα ἓ αὐτὴν
δύσετ’ Ἀχαιῶν ἔθνος, ἔγειρε δὲ φῶτα ἕκαστον.
πρῶτον δ’ Ἀτρέος υἱὸν ἐποτρύνουσα προσηύδα,
ἴφθιμον Μενέλαον—ὁ γάρ ῥά οἱ ἐγγύθεν ἦεν—
εἰσαμένη Φοίνικι δέμας καὶ ἀτειρέα φωνήν·
«σοὶ μὲν δή, Μενέλαε κατηφείη καὶ ὄνειδος
ἔσσεται, εἴ κ’ Ἀχιλῆος ἀγαυοῦ πιστὸν ἑταῖρον

τείχει ὕπο Τρώων ταχέες κύνες ἑλκήσουσιν.
ἀλλ’ ἔχεο κρατερῶς, ὄτρυνε δὲ λαὸν ἅπαντα.»
Τὴν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος·
«Φοῖνιξ, ἄττα γεραιὲ παλαιγενές, εἰ γὰρ Ἀθήνη
δοίη κάρτος ἐμοί, βελέων δ’ ἀπερύκοι ἐρωήν·
τώ κεν ἔγωγ’ ἐθέλοιμι παρεστάμεναι καὶ ἀμύνειν
Πατρόκλῳ· μάλα γάρ με θανὼν ἐσεμάσσατο θυμόν.
ἀλλ’ Ἕκτωρ πυρὸς αἰνὸν ἔχει μένος, οὐδ’ ἀπολήγει
χαλκῷ δηϊόων· τῷ γὰρ Ζεὺς κῦδος ὀπάζει.»
Ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
ὅττί ῥά οἱ πάμπρωτα θεῶν ἠρήσατο πάντων.
ἐν δὲ βίην ὤμοισι καὶ ἐν γούνεσσιν ἔθηκε,
καί οἱ μυίης θάρσος ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐνῆκεν,
ἥ τε καὶ ἐργομένη μάλα περ χροὸς ἀνδρομέοιο
ἰσχανάᾳ δακέειν, λαρόν τέ οἱ αἷμ’ ἀνθρώπου·
τοίου μιν θάρσευς πλῆσε φρένας ἀμφὶ μελαίνας,
βῆ δ’ ἐπὶ Πατρόκλῳ, καὶ ἀκόντισε δουρὶ φαεινῷ.
ἔσκε δ’ ἐνὶ Τρώεσσι Ποδῆς υἱὸς Ἠετίωνος,
ἀφνειός τ’ ἀγαθός τε· μάλιστα δέ μιν τίεν Ἕκτωρ
δήμου, ἐπεί οἱ ἑταῖρος ἔην φίλος εἰλαπιναστής·
τόν ῥα κατὰ ζωστῆρα βάλε ξανθὸς Μενέλαος
ἀΐξαντα φόβονδε, διὰ πρὸ δὲ χαλκὸν ἔλασσε·
δούπησεν δὲ πεσών· ἀτὰρ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος
νεκρὸν ὑπ’ ἐκ Τρώων ἔρυσεν μετὰ ἔθνος ἑταίρων.
Ἕκτορα δ’ ἐγγύθεν ἱστάμενος ὄτρυνεν Ἀπόλλων,
Φαίνοπι Ἀσιάδῃ ἐναλίγκιος, ὅς οἱ ἁπάντων
ξείνων φίλτατος ἔσκεν Ἀβυδόθι οἰκία ναίων·
τῷ μιν ἐεισάμενος προσέφη ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων·
«Ἕκτορ, τίς κέ σ’ ἔτ’ ἄλλος Ἀχαιῶν ταρβήσειεν;

οἷον δὴ Μενέλαον ὑπέτρεσας, ὃς τὸ πάρος γε
μαλθακὸς αἰχμητής· νῦν δ’ οἴχεται οἶος ἀείρας
νεκρὸν ὑπ’ ἐκ Τρώων, σὸν δ’ ἔκτανε πιστὸν ἑταῖρον,
ἐσθλὸν ἐνὶ προμάχοισι Ποδῆν υἱὸν Ἠετίωνος.»
Ὣς φάτο, τὸν δ’ ἄχεος νεφέλη ἐκάλυψε μέλαινα,
βῆ δὲ διὰ προμάχων κεκορυθμένος αἴθοπι χαλκῷ.
καὶ τότ’ ἄρα Κρονίδης ἕλετ’ αἰγίδα θυσσανόεσσαν
μαρμαρέην, Ἴδην δὲ κατὰ νεφέεσσι κάλυψεν,
ἀστράψας δὲ μάλα μεγάλ’ ἔκτυπε, τὴν δὲ τίναξε,
νίκην δὲ Τρώεσσι δίδου, ἐφόβησε δ’ Ἀχαιούς.
Πρῶτος Πηνέλεως Βοιώτιος ἦρχε φόβοιο.
βλῆτο γὰρ ὦμον δουρὶ πρόσω τετραμμένος αἰεὶ
ἄκρον ἐπιλίγδην· γράψεν δέ οἱ ὀστέον ἄχρις
αἰχμὴ Πουλυδάμαντος· ὁ γάρ ῥ’ ἔβαλε σχεδὸν ἐλθών.
Λήϊτον αὖθ’ Ἕκτωρ σχεδὸν οὔτασε χεῖρ’ ἐπὶ καρπῷ,
υἱὸν Ἀλεκτρυόνος μεγαθύμου, παῦσε δὲ χάρμης·
τρέσσε δὲ παπτήνας, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι ἔλπετο θυμῷ
ἔγχος ἔχων ἐν χειρὶ μαχήσεσθαι Τρώεσσιν.
Ἕκτορα δ’ Ἰδομενεὺς μετὰ Λήϊτον ὁρμηθέντα
βεβλήκει θώρηκα κατὰ στῆθος παρὰ μαζόν·
ἐν καυλῷ δ’ ἐάγη δολιχὸν δόρυ, τοὶ δὲ βόησαν
Τρῶες· ὁ δ’ Ἰδομενῆος ἀκόντισε Δευκαλίδαο
δίφρῳ ἐφεσταότος· τοῦ μέν ῥ’ ἀπὸ τυτθὸν ἅμαρτεν·
αὐτὰρ ὁ Μηριόναο ὀπάονά θ’ ἡνίοχόν τε
Κοίρανον, ὅς ῥ’ ἐκ Λύκτου ἐϋκτιμένης ἕπετ’ αὐτῷ—
πεζὸς γὰρ τὰ πρῶτα λιπὼν νέας ἀμφιελίσσας
ἤλυθε, καί κε Τρωσὶ μέγα κράτος ἐγγυάλιξεν,
εἰ μὴ Κοίρανος ὦκα ποδώκεας ἤλασεν ἵππους·
καὶ τῷ μὲν φάος ἦλθεν, ἄμυνε δὲ νηλεὲς ἦμαρ,
αὐτὸς δ’ ὤλεσε θυμὸν ὑφ’ Ἕκτορος ἀνδροφόνοιο—
τὸν βάλ’ ὑπὸ γναθμοῖο καὶ οὔατος, ἐκ δ’ ἄρ’ ὀδόντας

ὦσε δόρυ πρυμνόν, διὰ δὲ γλῶσσαν τάμε μέσσην.
ἤριπε δ’ ἐξ ὀχέων, κατὰ δ’ ἡνία χεῦεν ἔραζε.
καὶ τά γε Μηριόνης ἔλαβεν χείρεσσι φίλῃσι
κύψας ἐκ πεδίοιο, καὶ Ἰδομενῆα προσηύδα·
«μάστιε νῦν, εἷός κε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας ἵκηαι·
γιγνώσκεις δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς ὅ τ’ οὐκέτι κάρτος Ἀχαιῶν.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, Ἰδομενεὺς δ’ ἵμασεν καλλίτριχας ἵππους
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς· δὴ γὰρ δέος ἔμπεσε θυμῷ.
Οὐδ’ ἔλαθ’ Αἴαντα μεγαλήτορα καὶ Μενέλαον
Ζεύς, ὅτε δὴ Τρώεσσι δίδου ἑτεραλκέα νίκην.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε μέγας Τελαμώνιος Αἴας·
«ὢ πόποι, ἤδη μέν κε καὶ ὃς μάλα νήπιός ἐστι
γνοίη ὅτι Τρώεσσι πατὴρ Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἀρήγει.
τῶν μὲν γὰρ πάντων βέλε’ ἅπτεται ὅς τις ἀφήῃ,
ἢ κακὸς ἢ ἀγαθός· Ζεὺς δ’ ἔμπης πάντ’ ἰθύνει·
ἡμῖν δ’ αὔτως πᾶσιν ἐτώσια πίπτει ἔραζε.
ἀλλ’ ἄγετ’ αὐτοί περ φραζώμεθα μῆτιν ἀρίστην,
ἠμὲν ὅπως τὸν νεκρὸν ἐρύσσομεν, ἠδὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ
χάρμα φίλοις ἑτάροισι γενώμεθα νοστήσαντες,
οἵ που δεῦρ’ ὁρόωντες ἀκηχέδατ’, οὐδ’ ἔτι φασὶν
Ἕκτορος ἀνδροφόνοιο μένος καὶ χεῖρας ἀάπτους
σχήσεσθ’, ἀλλ’ ἐν νηυσὶ μελαίνῃσιν πεσέεσθαι.
εἴη δ’ ὅς τις ἑταῖρος ἀπαγγείλειε τάχιστα
Πηλεΐδῃ, ἐπεὶ οὔ μιν ὀΐομαι οὐδὲ πεπύσθαι
λυγρῆς ἀγγελίης, ὅτι οἱ φίλος ὤλεθ’ ἑταῖρος.
ἀλλ’ οὔ πῃ δύναμαι ἰδέειν τοιοῦτον Ἀχαιῶν·
ἠέρι γὰρ κατέχονται ὁμῶς αὐτοί τε καὶ ἵπποι.
Ζεῦ πάτερ, ἀλλὰ σὺ ῥῦσαι ὑπ’ ἠέρος υἷας Ἀχαιῶν,
ποίησον δ’ αἴθρην, δὸς δ’ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι·

ἐν δὲ φάει καὶ ὄλεσσον, ἐπεί νύ τοι εὔαδεν οὕτως.»
Ὣς φάτο, τὸν δὲ πατὴρ ὀλοφύρατο δάκρυ χέοντα·
αὐτίκα δ’ ἠέρα μὲν σκέδασεν καὶ ἀπῶσεν ὀμίχλην,
ἠέλιος δ’ ἐπέλαμψε, μάχη δ’ ἐπὶ πᾶσα φαάνθη·
καὶ τότ’ ἄρ’ Αἴας εἶπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸν Μενέλαον·
«σκέπτεο νῦν, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, αἴ κεν ἴδηαι
ζωὸν ἔτ’ Ἀντίλοχον μεγαθύμου Νέστορος υἱόν,
ὄτρυνον δ’ Ἀχιλῆϊ δαΐφρονι θᾶσσον ἰόντα
εἰπεῖν ὅττι ῥά οἱ πολὺ φίλτατος ὤλεθ’ ἑταῖρος.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, οὐδ’ ἀπίθησε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,
βῆ δ’ ἰέναι ὥς τίς τε λέων ἀπὸ μεσσαύλοιο,
ὅς τ’ ἐπεὶ ἄρ κε κάμῃσι κύνας τ’ ἄνδρας τ’ ἐρεθίζων,
οἵ τέ μιν οὐκ εἰῶσι βοῶν ἐκ πῖαρ ἑλέσθαι
πάννυχοι ἐγρήσσοντες· ὃ δὲ κρειῶν ἐρατίζων
ἰθύει, ἀλλ’ οὔ τι πρήσσει· θαμέες γὰρ ἄκοντες
ἀντίον ἀΐσσουσι θρασειάων ἀπὸ χειρῶν,
καιόμεναί τε δεταί, τάς τε τρεῖ ἐσσύμενός περ·
ἠῶθεν δ’ ἀπονόσφιν ἔβη τετιηότι θυμῷ·
ὣς ἀπὸ Πατρόκλοιο βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
ἤϊε πόλλ’ ἀέκων· περὶ γὰρ δίε μή μιν Ἀχαιοὶ
ἀργαλέου πρὸ φόβοιο ἕλωρ δηΐοισι λίποιεν.
πολλὰ δὲ Μηριόνῃ τε καὶ Αἰάντεσσ’ ἐπέτελλεν·
«Αἴαντ’, Ἀργείων ἡγήτορε Μηριόνη τε,
νῦν τις ἐνηείης Πατροκλῆος δειλοῖο
μνησάσθω· πᾶσιν γὰρ ἐπίστατο μείλιχος εἶναι
ζωὸς ἐών· νῦν αὖ θάνατος καὶ μοῖρα κιχάνει.»
Ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,
πάντοσε παπταίνων ὥς τ’ αἰετός, ὅν ῥά τέ φασιν
ὀξύτατον δέρκεσθαι ὑπουρανίων πετεηνῶν,
ὅν τε καὶ ὑψόθ’ ἐόντα πόδας ταχὺς οὐκ ἔλαθε πτὼξ

θάμνῳ ὑπ’ ἀμφικόμῳ κατακείμενος, ἀλλά τ’ ἐπ’ αὐτῷ
ἔσσυτο, καί τέ μιν ὦκα λαβὼν ἐξείλετο θυμόν.
ὣς τότε σοί, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄσσε φαεινὼ
πάντοσε δινείσθην πολέων κατὰ ἔθνος ἑταίρων,
εἴ που Νέστορος υἱὸν ἔτι ζώοντα ἴδοιτο.
τὸν δὲ μάλ’ αἶψ’ ἐνόησε μάχης ἐπ’ ἀριστερὰ πάσης
θαρσύνονθ’ ἑτάρους καὶ ἐποτρύνοντα μάχεσθαι,
ἀγχοῦ δ’ ἱστάμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
«Ἀντίλοχ’, εἰ δ’ ἄγε δεῦρο διοτρεφὲς ὄφρα πύθηαι
λυγρῆς ἀγγελίης, ἣ μὴ ὤφελλε γενέσθαι.
ἤδη μὲν σὲ καὶ αὐτὸν ὀΐομαι εἰσορόωντα
γιγνώσκειν ὅτι πῆμα θεὸς Δαναοῖσι κυλίνδει,
νίκη δὲ Τρώων· πέφαται δ’ ὤριστος Ἀχαιῶν,
Πάτροκλος, μεγάλη δὲ ποθὴ Δαναοῖσι τέτυκται.
ἀλλὰ σύ γ’ αἶψ’ Ἀχιλῆϊ θέων ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν
εἰπεῖν, αἴ κε τάχιστα νέκυν ἐπὶ νῆα σαώσῃ
γυμνόν· ἀτὰρ τά γε τεύχε’ ἔχει κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, Ἀντίλοχος δὲ κατέστυγε μῦθον ἀκούσας·
δὴν δέ μιν ἀμφασίη ἐπέων λάβε, τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε
δακρυόφι πλῆσθεν, θαλερὴ δέ οἱ ἔσχετο φωνή.
ἀλλ’ οὐδ’ ὧς Μενελάου ἐφημοσύνης ἀμέλησε,
βῆ δὲ θέειν, τὰ δὲ τεύχε’ ἀμύμονι δῶκεν ἑταίρῳ
Λαοδόκῳ, ὅς οἱ σχεδὸν ἔστρεφε μώνυχας ἵππους.
Τὸν μὲν δάκρυ χέοντα πόδες φέρον ἐκ πολέμοιο,
Πηλεΐδῃ Ἀχιλῆϊ κακὸν ἔπος ἀγγελέοντα.
οὐδ’ ἄρα σοί, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ἤθελε θυμὸς
τειρομένοις ἑτάροισιν ἀμυνέμεν, ἔνθεν ἀπῆλθεν
Ἀντίλοχος, μεγάλη δὲ ποθὴ Πυλίοισιν ἐτύχθη·
ἀλλ’ ὅ γε τοῖσιν μὲν Θρασυμήδεα δῖον ἀνῆκεν,

αὐτὸς δ’ αὖτ’ ἐπὶ Πατρόκλῳ ἥρωϊ βεβήκει,
στῆ δὲ παρ’ Αἰάντεσσι θέων, εἶθαρ δὲ προσηύδα·
«κεῖνον μὲν δὴ νηυσὶν ἐπιπροέηκα θοῇσιν,
ἐλθεῖν εἰς Ἀχιλῆα πόδας ταχύν· οὐδέ μιν οἴω
νῦν ἰέναι μάλα περ κεχολωμένον Ἕκτορι δίῳ·
οὐ γάρ πως ἂν γυμνὸς ἐὼν Τρώεσσι μάχοιτο.
ἡμεῖς δ’ αὐτοί περ φραζώμεθα μῆτιν ἀρίστην,
ἠμὲν ὅπως τὸν νεκρὸν ἐρύσσομεν, ἠδὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ
Τρώων ἐξ ἐνοπῆς θάνατον καὶ κῆρα φύγωμεν.»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα μέγας Τελαμώνιος Αἴας·
«πάντα κατ’ αἶσαν ἔειπες, ἀγακλεὲς ὦ Μενέλαε·
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν καὶ Μηριόνης ὑποδύντε μάλ’ ὦκα
νεκρὸν ἀείραντες φέρετ’ ἐκ πόνου· αὐτὰρ ὄπισθε
νῶϊ μαχησόμεθα Τρωσίν τε καὶ Ἕκτορι δίῳ,
ἶσον θυμὸν ἔχοντες ὁμώνυμοι, οἳ τὸ πάρος περ
μίμνομεν ὀξὺν Ἄρηα παρ’ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντες.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, οἳ δ’ ἄρα νεκρὸν ἀπὸ χθονὸς ἀγκάζοντο
ὕψι μάλα μεγάλως· ἐπὶ δ’ ἴαχε λαὸς ὄπισθε
Τρωϊκός, ὡς εἴδοντο νέκυν αἴροντας Ἀχαιούς.
ἴθυσαν δὲ κύνεσσιν ἐοικότες, οἵ τ’ ἐπὶ κάπρῳ
βλημένῳ ἀΐξωσι πρὸ κούρων θηρητήρων·
ἕως μὲν γάρ τε θέουσι διαῤῥαῖσαι μεμαῶτες,
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δή ῥ’ ἐν τοῖσιν ἑλίξεται ἀλκὶ πεποιθώς,
ἄψ τ’ ἀνεχώρησαν διά τ’ ἔτρεσαν ἄλλυδις ἄλλος.
ὣς Τρῶες εἷος μὲν ὁμιλαδὸν αἰὲν ἕποντο,
νύσσοντες ξίφεσίν τε καὶ ἔγχεσιν ἀμφιγύοισιν·
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δή ῥ’ Αἴαντε μεταστρεφθέντε κατ’ αὐτοὺς
σταίησαν, τῶν δὲ τράπετο χρώς, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη
πρόσσω ἀΐξας περὶ νεκροῦ δηριάασθαι.

Ὣς οἵ γ’ ἐμμεμαῶτε νέκυν φέρον ἐκ πολέμοιο
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς· ἐπὶ δὲ πτόλεμος τέτατό σφιν
ἄγριος ἠΰτε πῦρ, τό τ’ ἐπεσσύμενον πόλιν ἀνδρῶν
ὄρμενον ἐξαίφνης φλεγέθει, μινύθουσι δὲ οἶκοι
ἐν σέλαϊ μεγάλῳ· τὸ δ’ ἐπιβρέμει ἲς ἀνέμοιο.
ὣς μὲν τοῖς ἵππων τε καὶ ἀνδρῶν αἰχμητάων
ἀζηχὴς ὀρυμαγδὸς ἐπήϊεν ἐρχομένοισιν·
οἳ δ’ ὥς θ’ ἡμίονοι κρατερὸν μένος ἀμφιβαλόντες
ἕλκωσ’ ἐξ ὄρεος κατὰ παιπαλόεσσαν ἀταρπὸν
ἢ δοκὸν ἠὲ δόρυ μέγα νήϊον· ἐν δέ τε θυμὸς
τείρεθ’ ὁμοῦ καμάτῳ τε καὶ ἱδρῷ σπευδόντεσσιν·
ὣς οἵ γ’ ἐμμεμαῶτε νέκυν φέρον. αὐτὰρ ὄπισθεν
Αἴαντ’ ἰσχανέτην, ὥς τε πρὼν ἰσχάνει ὕδωρ
ὑλήεις πεδίοιο διαπρύσιον τετυχηκώς,
ὅς τε καὶ ἰφθίμων ποταμῶν ἀλεγεινὰ ῥέεθρα
ἴσχει, ἄφαρ δέ τε πᾶσι ῥόον πεδίον δὲ τίθησι
πλάζων· οὐδέ τί μιν σθένεϊ ῥηγνῦσι ῥέοντες·
ὣς αἰεὶ Αἴαντε μάχην ἀνέεργον ὀπίσσω
Τρώων· οἳ δ’ ἅμ’ ἕποντο, δύω δ’ ἐν τοῖσι μάλιστα,
Αἰνείας τ’ Ἀγχισιάδης καὶ φαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ.
τῶν δ’ ὥς τε ψαρῶν νέφος ἔρχεται ἠὲ κολοιῶν,
οὖλον κεκλήγοντες, ὅτε προΐδωσιν ἰόντα
κίρκον, ὅ τε σμικρῇσι φόνον φέρει ὀρνίθεσσιν,
ὣς ἄρ’ ὑπ’ Αἰνείᾳ τε καὶ Ἕκτορι κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν
οὖλον κεκλήγοντες ἴσαν, λήθοντο δὲ χάρμης.
πολλὰ δὲ τεύχεα καλὰ πέσον περί τ’ ἀμφί τε τάφρον
φευγόντων Δαναῶν· πολέμου δ’ οὐ γίγνετ’ ἐρωή.

THE ILIAD XVII

Nor did it escape the notice of Menelaus, the son of Atreus, beloved of Ares, that Patroclus had been vanquished by the Trojans in the heat of battle. He strode forth through the front ranks, clad in gleaming bronze, and moved about the body as a mother cow stands over her firstborn calf, lowing plaintively, she who had never before known the pangs of birth; so did fair-haired Menelaus move about Patroclus. Before him he held his spear and his perfectly balanced shield, burning with the desire to kill any man who might dare to come against him. Nor, indeed, did the son of Panthous, of the fine ash spear, neglect the fall of blameless Patroclus; he came and stood close by him, and addressed Menelaus, beloved of Ares: “Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-nurtured leader of men, draw back! Leave the body, and let the blood-stained spoils be. For no Trojan or renowned ally before me cast a spear at Patroclus in the mighty conflict. Therefore, allow me to win noble glory among the Trojans, lest I strike you and strip you of your honey-sweet life.” Greatly stirred, fair-haired Menelaus answered him: “Father Zeus, it is surely no fine thing to boast with such arrogance. Neither the leopard’s might, nor the lion’s, nor that of the destructive wild boar, whose heart swells greatest in its chest as it exults in its strength, is a match for the pride of the sons of Panthous of the fine ash spear. Not even the mighty Hyperenor, tamer of horses, had joy of his youth when he scorned me and stood his ground, claiming that I was the most contemptible warrior among the Danaans. I do not think it was on his own feet that he made his way back to gladden his dear wife and his worthy parents. Just so shall I undo your own might if you stand against me. But I urge you to retreat into the throng; do not stand and face me, before you come to some harm. Even a fool knows a thing once it is done.” So he spoke, but he did not persuade the other, who answered him, saying: “Now indeed, Menelaus, nurtured by Zeus, you shall surely pay for my brother whom you killed, and whose death you boast of. You made his wife a widow in her new bridal chamber and brought unspeakable grief and sorrow upon his parents. Perhaps I could bring some solace to those wretched souls if I were to carry your head and your armor and place them in the hands of Panthous and noble Phrontis. But this contest will not remain much longer untried or undecided, be it for valor or for flight.” Saying this, he struck Menelaus’s perfectly balanced shield, but the bronze did not break through, for the spear point was bent back by the strong shield. Then the son of Atreus, Menelaus, rushed forward in his turn with his bronze spear, having prayed to Father Zeus. As Euphorbus was drawing back, Menelaus struck him at the base of his throat, and trusting in his heavy hand, he drove the point straight through the tender neck. The man fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him. His hair, lovely as the Graces’, was soaked with blood, as were his braids, which were bound with gold and silver. Just as a man nurtures a thriving sapling of an olive tree in a secluded garden, where it drinks its fill of water— a beautiful, flourishing shoot, which the breezes of every wind set trembling as it bursts with white blossoms— but then a sudden wind comes with a mighty gale, wrenches it from its bed, and lays it out upon the earth; so did Menelaus, son of Atreus, slay Euphorbus, son of Panthous of the fine ash spear, and then strip him of his armor. And as when a mountain-bred lion, trusting in its strength, snatches the finest heifer from a grazing herd; first it seizes her and breaks her neck with its powerful jaws, and then it tears her open and gorges on her blood and all her entrails, while around it the dogs and herdsmen cry out loudly from a distance, unwilling to advance upon it, for a pale fear has taken hold of them; so not a single Trojan heart had the courage in its breast to advance upon glorious Menelaus. Then the son of Atreus would have easily carried off the renowned armor of Panthous’s son, had not Phoebus Apollo begrudged him this, and roused Hector against him, who was swift as Ares himself. Apollo took the form of a man, Mentes, leader of the Cicones, and speaking to Hector, he uttered winged words: “Hector, now you are chasing after what cannot be caught, the horses of the warrior scion of Aeacus. They are difficult for mortal men to master or to drive, for any man other than Achilles, whose mother is immortal. Meanwhile, Menelaus, the warlike son of Atreus, has bestridden Patroclus and killed the best of the Trojans, Euphorbus, son of Panthous, and has put an end to his furious valor.” Having spoken thus, the god returned again into the turmoil of men, and a terrible grief shrouded Hector’s dark heart. He glanced then along the ranks and at once recognized the one man stripping the glorious armor, and the other lying on the ground, the blood flowing from his gaping wound. He strode forth through the front ranks, clad in gleaming bronze, crying out sharply, like the unquenchable flame of Hephaestus. Nor did his piercing cry escape the son of Atreus. Troubled, he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit: “Ah, woe is me. If I abandon this beautiful armor and Patroclus, who lies here for the sake of my honor, I fear that any Danaan who sees it will hold me in contempt. But if, out of shame, I fight alone against Hector and the Trojans, I fear they will surround me, one against many. For Hector of the flashing helm leads all the Trojans here. But why does my own heart debate these things? Whenever a man chooses to fight against another whom a god honors, a great wave of ruin soon rolls over him. Therefore, no Danaan will blame me who sees me give way before Hector, since he fights with a god’s aid. Yet if I could but hear the war cry of Ajax, good at the call, then the two of us, returning to the fray, might think of battle, even against a god, to see if we could somehow save this body for Achilles, son of Peleus. Among these evils, that would be the best we could do.” While he pondered these things in his mind and heart, the Trojan ranks advanced upon him, with Hector at their head. Menelaus drew back, leaving the body, turning again and again like a bearded lion that dogs and men drive from the cattle-pen with spears and shouts; its valiant heart within its breast grows cold, and it departs from the steading against its will. So did fair-haired Menelaus retreat from Patroclus. When he reached the company of his comrades, he turned and stood, searching for great Ajax, son of Telamon. He soon caught sight of him on the far left of the battle, encouraging his comrades and urging them to fight, for Phoebus Apollo had cast a wondrous fear upon them. He ran to him and, standing at his side, spoke at once: “Ajax, my friend, come here! Let us hasten for the sake of the fallen Patroclus, to see if we can at least bring his naked body back to Achilles; for Hector of the flashing helm now has his armor.” So he spoke, and he stirred the heart of the warlike Ajax. He strode forth through the front ranks, and with him went fair-haired Menelaus. Hector, having stripped the renowned armor from Patroclus, was dragging him away, intending to cut the head from his shoulders with sharp bronze, and to give the trunk to the Trojan dogs to devour. But Ajax drew near, bearing his shield that was like a tower. Hector retreated back into the crowd of his comrades and leapt into his chariot, giving the fine armor to the Trojans to carry to the city, to be a great glory for him. But Ajax, with his broad shield, stood over the son of Menoetius and protected him, standing as a lion stands over its cubs when hunters in the forest come upon it as it leads its young; the lion exults in its strength, and draws down all its brow to cover its eyes. So did Ajax bestride the hero Patroclus. On the other side stood Menelaus, son of Atreus, beloved of Ares, nursing a great sorrow in his breast. But Glaucus, son of Hippolochus and leader of the Lycian men, looked darkly at Hector and rebuked him with harsh words: “Hector, you who are best in form, you are sorely lacking in battle. It seems a noble reputation is yours for naught, since you are a man who flees. Consider now how you alone, with the people born in Ilium, can save your city and your citadel. For no Lycian will go forth to fight the Danaans for your city, since there is no gratitude, it seems, for warring ceaselessly against our foes. How could you save a lesser man in the throng, you wretch, when you abandoned Sarpedon, your guest and comrade, to become the Argives’ spoil and prey? He was of great service to your city and to you yourself while he lived; yet now you did not dare to keep the dogs from him. Therefore, if any of the Lycian men will heed me now, we will go home, and sheer destruction will befall Troy. For if the Trojans now possessed that bold and fearless spirit that enters men who toil and strive for their fatherland against their enemies, we would soon drag Patroclus inside Ilium. And if he, being dead, were brought to the great city of King Priam, and we had dragged him from the battle, the Argives would quickly give up the fine armor of Sarpedon, and we could bring him, too, inside Ilium. For the man whose squire has been slain is the very best of the Argives by the ships, and his attendants are mighty in close combat. But you, you did not dare to stand your ground and look great-hearted Ajax in the eye amid the enemy’s war cry, nor to fight him face to face, for he is a better man than you.” With a dark look, Hector of the flashing helm replied: “Glaucus, why have you, being the man you are, spoken so arrogantly? Ah, my friend, I truly thought you surpassed all others in wisdom, all those who dwell in fertile Lycia. But now I wholly scorn your judgment for what you have said, you who claim I did not stand against the mighty Ajax. I do not shudder at the fight, nor at the thunder of horses. But the will of aegis-bearing Zeus is always stronger; he can make a valiant man flee and snatch away his victory with ease, and at another time he himself will urge him on to fight. Come now, my friend, stand by my side and watch my work, and see whether I shall be a coward the whole day through, as you claim, or whether I shall stop some Danaan, however eager for combat, from defending the fallen Patroclus.” So saying, he cried out in a great voice to the Trojans: “Trojans and Lycians and Dardanians who fight in close combat, be men, my friends, and remember your furious valor, while I go and put on the blameless armor of Achilles, the beautiful armor I stripped from the mighty Patroclus when I killed him.” Having spoken thus, Hector of the flashing helm departed from the heat of battle. Running, he quickly caught up with his comrades, not far off, pursuing them with swift feet as they carried the renowned armor of the son of Peleus toward the city. Standing apart from the tear-filled battle, he exchanged his armor. He gave his own to the war-loving Trojans to carry to sacred Ilium, and he put on the immortal armor of Achilles, son of Peleus, which the heavenly gods had given to his beloved father; and he, in turn, in his old age, gave it to his son. But it was not in his father’s armor that the son would grow old. When Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, saw him from afar, arming himself in the gear of the divine son of Peleus, he shook his head and spoke to his own heart: “Ah, luckless man, no thought of death enters your heart, yet it stands very near you. You are putting on the immortal armor of the best of men, before whom all others tremble. You have slain his comrade, a man both gentle and strong, and you have stripped the armor from his head and shoulders in a manner that is not right. Yet for now I will grant you great power, in recompense for this: that Andromache will never receive from you, on your return from battle, the glorious armor of the son of Peleus.” He spoke, and the son of Cronos nodded with his dark brows. The armor fitted itself to Hector’s body, and Ares, the terrible god of war, entered into him, and his limbs within were filled with strength and valor. He went among his renowned allies, shouting loudly, and to all of them he appeared, gleaming in the armor of the great-hearted son of Peleus. He went among them and urged on each man with his words: Mesthles and Glaucus, Medon and Thersilochus, Asteropaeus and Deisenor and Hippothous, Phorcys and Chromius, and Ennomus the augur. Urging them on, he spoke winged words: “Hear me, you countless tribes of allies who dwell around us! It was not for want of numbers, nor from any lack, that I gathered each of you here from your cities, but so that you might eagerly defend the wives and infant children of the Trojans from the war-loving Achaeans. With this in mind, I wear down my own people for gifts and provisions, and so I bolster the spirit of each of you. Therefore let each man now turn and face the enemy, either to perish or to be saved, for that is the communion of war. And whoever drags Patroclus, though he is dead, among the horse-taming Trojans, and makes Ajax give way, to him I will give one half of the spoils, and I myself will keep the other half; and his glory will be as great as my own.” So he spoke, and they advanced straight upon the Danaans with all their weight, holding their spears high. Their hearts greatly hoped to drag the body from under Ajax, son of Telamon— fools that they were! Over that very body he would strip the life from many of them. Then Ajax spoke to Menelaus, good at the war cry: “My friend, Menelaus, nurtured by Zeus, I no longer hope that even we two will return from this war. I do not fear so much for the body of Patroclus, which will soon glut the dogs and birds of Troy, as I fear for my own head, lest some harm befall it, and for yours, for a cloud of war, and that is Hector, envelops all things, and for us, in turn, sheer destruction is at hand. Come, then, call upon the best of the Danaans, if anyone may hear.” So he spoke, and Menelaus, good at the war cry, did not disobey. He cried out with a piercing shout, making his voice heard to the Danaans: “Friends, leaders and counselors of the Argives, you who drink at the public cost beside the sons of Atreus, Agamemnon and Menelaus, and who each command your people, for your honor and glory come from Zeus! It is difficult for me to see each leader distinctly, so great is the blaze of this conflict. But let each man come of his own accord, and let his heart be filled with indignation that Patroclus should become a plaything for the dogs of Troy.” So he spoke, and swift Ajax, son of Oileus, heard him sharply. He was the first to come running toward him through the fray, and after him came Idomeneus and Idomeneus’s squire, Meriones, the peer of man-slaying Enyalius. But who, in his own mind, could name the names of all the others who came after and roused the Achaeans’ battle? The Trojans, in a mass, charged forward, with Hector at their head. As when at the mouth of a river swollen by the rains of Zeus a great wave roars against the current, and the high shores on either side resound as the salt sea crashes outside, with such a clamor did the Trojans advance. But the Achaeans stood firm around the son of Menoetius with one spirit, fenced in by their shields of bronze. And upon their shining helmets the son of Cronos poured a thick mist, for he had held no hatred for the son of Menoetius in times past, while he lived and was the squire of the scion of Aeacus. So he loathed the thought of him becoming prey for the enemy’s dogs in Troy, and he roused his comrades to defend him. At first, the Trojans drove back the bright-eyed Achaeans, who abandoned the body and fled. The high-hearted Trojans did not kill any of them with their spears, though they were eager to, but they began to drag the body away. Yet the Achaeans were to be parted from it for only a short while, for Ajax swiftly rallied them, he who in form and in deeds was the best of all the Danaans after the blameless son of Peleus. He rushed through the front ranks, like a wild boar in his might, one who in the mountains easily scatters the dogs and the vigorous young men, wheeling upon them through the glens. So did the glorious Ajax, noble son of Telamon, easily charge and scatter the phalanxes of the Trojans who had surrounded Patroclus and were most minded to drag him to their city and win glory for themselves. Hippothous, the glorious son of Pelasgian Lethus, was dragging the body by the foot through the mighty conflict, having bound a strap around the tendons of the ankle, seeking to win favor with Hector and the Trojans. But disaster quickly came upon him, one that none, for all their eagerness, could ward off. The son of Telamon, leaping through the throng, struck him at close range through the bronze-cheeked helmet. The horse-haired helmet shattered around the spear point, struck by the great spear and the stout hand, and the bloody brain gushed from the wound along the socket of the spear. There his strength deserted him, and from his hands he let the foot of great-hearted Patroclus fall to the ground. He himself fell prone upon the body, far from fertile Larissa, and he did not repay his dear parents for his upbringing, for his life was cut short, vanquished by the spear of great-hearted Ajax. Hector, in turn, cast his shining spear at Ajax. But Ajax, seeing it coming, dodged the bronze spear by a little. The spear struck Schedius, son of great-hearted Iphitus, the best of the Phocians, who dwelt in famed Panopeus and was a king over many men. Hector hit him below the middle of the collarbone, and the bronze point passed straight through, emerging near the base of his shoulder. He fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him. Then Ajax, in his turn, as the warlike Phorcys, son of Phaenops, bestrode Hippothous, struck him in the middle of the belly. He broke the plate of his corselet, and the bronze tore through his entrails. He fell in the dust and clawed the earth with his hand. The front fighters and glorious Hector gave way, and the Argives shouted loudly as they dragged away the bodies of both Phorcys and Hippothous and stripped the armor from their shoulders. Then the Trojans would have been driven back to Ilium by the war-loving Achaeans, overcome by their own weakness, and the Argives would have won glory even beyond the will of Zeus, by their own might and main. But Apollo himself roused Aeneas, taking the form of Periphas the herald, son of Epytus, who had grown old as a herald in the service of Aeneas’s aged father and was a man of wise counsel. In his likeness, Apollo, son of Zeus, spoke: “Aeneas, how could you ever defend steep Ilium, even if a god were against it? I have seen other men trust in their own might and main, in their valor and in their numbers, holding their ground even with a people who were outmatched. But in our case, Zeus wishes for our victory far more than for the Danaans’, yet you yourselves tremble uncontrollably and do not fight.” So he spoke, and Aeneas knew Apollo the far-shooter as he looked upon his face, and he shouted in a great voice to Hector: “Hector, and you other leaders of the Trojans and their allies, this is a shameful thing indeed, to be driven back to Ilium by the war-loving Achaeans, overcome by our own weakness! But even now, one of the gods stood beside me and told me that Zeus, the supreme counselor, is still our ally in this battle. Therefore let us go straight against the Danaans, and let them not without a struggle move the dead Patroclus to their ships.” So he spoke, and he leapt far out in front of the ranks and stood there. And they rallied and stood arrayed against the Achaeans. Then Aeneas with his spear wounded Leocritus, son of Arisbas and a valiant comrade of Lycomedes. As he fell, warlike Lycomedes took pity on him, and he went and stood very near and cast his shining spear. He struck Apisaon, son of Hippasus, shepherd of his people, in the liver beneath the midriff, and his knees gave way at once. He had come from fertile Paeonia and was the best in battle after Asteropaeus. As he fell, warlike Asteropaeus took pity on him, and he too rushed forward, eager to fight the Danaans. But he could do so no longer, for they were fenced in on all sides by their shields, standing around Patroclus with their spears held before them. For Ajax went among all of them, giving many orders; he commanded that no man should retreat from the body, and that no Achaean should fight in front of the others, but that they should stand fast about him and fight at close quarters. So did the mighty Ajax command, and the earth was soaked with purple blood as the dead fell thick and fast, Trojans and their high-hearted allies, and Danaans alike. For they, too, did not fight without bloodshed, though far fewer of them perished, for they were ever mindful to stand together in the throng and ward off sheer destruction from one another. So they fought on like a fire, and you would not have thought that the sun or the moon still endured, for they were shrouded in mist over all that part of the battle where the best men stood around the fallen son of Menoetius. But the other Trojans and the well-greaved Achaeans fought at ease under the clear air, and the sharp light of the sun was spread over them, and no cloud appeared over all the earth or the mountains. They fought with pauses, avoiding each other’s grievous missiles, standing far apart. But those in the middle suffered terribly from the mist and the war, and they were worn down by the pitiless bronze, all those who were the best. Yet two renowned men, Thrasymedes and Antilochus, had not yet learned that blameless Patroclus was dead, but thought he was still alive and fighting the Trojans in the front of the battle. The two of them, keeping watch for the death or flight of their comrades, were fighting apart, for so Nestor had commanded when he sent them into battle from the black ships. So for them a great struggle of bitter strife raged all day long, and with ceaseless toil and sweat the knees and shins and feet of each man beneath him, and his hands and his eyes, were spattered with grime as they fought over the good squire of the swift-footed son of Aeacus. And as when a man gives the great hide of a bull, soaked through with fat, to his people to be stretched, and they take it and stand in a circle and pull, and at once the moisture is drawn out and the fat sinks deep as many hands pull, and the whole hide is stretched taut; so they on both sides pulled at the body this way and that in a narrow space, their hearts filled with hope— the Trojans to drag it to Ilium, and the Achaeans, in turn, to their hollow ships. And around him a savage conflict arose; not Ares, rouser of armies, nor Athena, could have looked on that struggle and found fault, not even if the greatest anger had come upon her. Such was the evil toil of men and horses that Zeus stretched over Patroclus on that day. But as yet, godlike Achilles knew nothing of Patroclus’s death, for they were fighting far from the swift ships, beneath the wall of the Trojans. So he never imagined in his heart that he had been killed, but thought that he, alive, after touching the gates, would return again, for he did not imagine at all that Patroclus would sack the city without him, nor even with him. For he had often heard this from his mother, listening to her in private, when she would report to him the will of great Zeus. But on that day his mother did not tell him of so great an evil as had come to pass, that the dearest of his comrades had been slain. And the men, ever holding their sharp-pointed spears, pressed relentlessly around the body, charging one another and killing each other. And thus would one of the bronze-clad Achaeans say: “Friends, it would surely not be a glorious thing for us to return to the hollow ships; rather let the black earth yawn for us all right here. That would be far better for us at once than to let the horse-taming Trojans have him, to drag him to their city and win the glory.” And in turn one of the great-hearted Trojans would cry out: “Friends, even if it is our fate to all be slain together beside this man, let no one yet shrink from the battle.” So would a man speak, and rouse the spirit of each of his comrades. Thus they fought on, and the iron din rose up through the barren air to the bronze heavens. But the horses of the scion of Aeacus, being far from the battle, were weeping, from the moment they first learned that their charioteer had fallen in the dust at the hands of man-slaying Hector. Indeed, Automedon, valiant son of Diores, struck them many times with the swift whip, and many times he spoke to them with gentle words, and many times with threats. But they would neither go back to the ships by the broad Hellespont, nor into the battle among the Achaeans. But as a stele remains fixed, that which stands on the tomb of a dead man or woman, so they remained, holding the beautiful chariot motionless, their heads bowed to the earth. And hot tears flowed from their eyelids to the ground as they mourned with longing for their charioteer, and their luxuriant manes were stained as they streamed down from the yoke-pad on either side of the yoke. Seeing them mourning, the son of Cronos pitied them, and he shook his head and spoke to his own heart: “Ah, you wretched pair, why did we give you to King Peleus, a mortal, while you are ageless and immortal? Was it so that you might suffer sorrows among unhappy men? For there is surely nothing more wretched than man, of all the things that breathe and move upon the earth. But Hector, son of Priam, will not ride upon you and your ornate chariot; I will not allow it. Is it not enough that he has the armor and boasts so vainly? I will put strength in your knees and in your hearts, so that you may carry Automedon safely from the battle to the hollow ships. For I will still grant glory to the Trojans, to go on killing until they reach the well-benched ships, and the sun sets and sacred darkness comes on.” So saying, he breathed noble strength into the horses. And they, shaking the dust from their manes to the ground, lightly bore the swift chariot among the Trojans and Achaeans. And Automedon, though grieving for his comrade, fought behind them, swooping with his horses like a vulture upon a flock of geese. For he would easily flee from the Trojans’ tumult, and easily he would charge, pressing upon them through the great throng. But he did not kill men when he rushed to pursue them, for it was not possible for him, being alone in the sacred chariot, to attack with the spear and also hold the swift horses. But at last a comrade, a man, saw him with his eyes, Alcimedon, son of Laerces, son of Haemon. He stood behind the chariot and spoke to Automedon: “Automedon, which of the gods has put this useless plan in your breast and taken away your good sense? You are fighting alone against the Trojans in the front of the battle, your comrade has been killed, and Hector himself exults, wearing the armor of the scion of Aeacus on his own shoulders.” Automedon, son of Diores, answered him: “Alcimedon, which other of the Achaeans is like you in controlling the spirit and might of immortal horses, except Patroclus, a counselor equal to the gods, while he lived? But now death and fate have overtaken him. So take you the whip and the shining reins, and I will dismount from the chariot, so that I may fight.” So he spoke, and Alcimedon, leaping onto the swift-moving chariot, quickly took the whip and reins in his hands, and Automedon leapt down. Glorious Hector noticed them, and at once he spoke to Aeneas, who was near him: “Aeneas, counselor of the bronze-clad Trojans, I have noticed the two horses of the swift-footed son of Aeacus appearing in the battle with poor charioteers. I would hope we could capture them, if you are willing in your heart, for they would not dare to stand and fight against the two of us coming at them.” So he spoke, and the good son of Anchises did not disobey. The two went straight forward, their shoulders protected by shields of tough, dry ox-hide, with much bronze overlaid. And with them went both Chromius and godlike Aretus, and their hearts greatly hoped to kill the men and drive off the strong-necked horses. Fools that they were! They were not destined to return without shedding blood before Automedon. He, praying to Father Zeus, was filled with strength and valor in his dark heart. At once he spoke to Alcimedon, his faithful comrade: “Alcimedon, do not hold the horses far from me, but keep them breathing upon my back. For I do not think that Hector, son of Priam, will check his fury, until he has mounted the fine-maned horses of Achilles, after killing the two of us, and has routed the ranks of Argive men, or is himself slain among the first.” So saying, he called upon the two Aiantes and Menelaus: “Aiantes, leaders of the Argives, and Menelaus, leave the body to those who are the best to stand around it and defend it from the ranks of men. But for us two who are still alive, ward off the pitiless day of doom. For pressing hard upon us here, through the tearful battle, are Hector and Aeneas, who are the best of the Trojans. But these things lie on the knees of the gods. I too will cast my spear, and all the rest will be in Zeus’s care.” He spoke, and poising his long-shadowed spear, he let it fly, and he struck the perfectly balanced shield of Aretus. The shield did not stop the spear, but the bronze went right through, and through the belt it drove into the lowest part of his belly. And as when a vigorous man with a sharp axe, striking behind the horns of a field-dwelling ox, severs the whole sinew, and the ox leaps forward and falls, so Aretus leapt forward and fell on his back. And the very sharp spear, quivering in his entrails, loosened his limbs. Then Hector cast his shining spear at Automedon, but he, seeing it coming, dodged the bronze spear, for he bent forward, and the long spear fixed itself in the ground behind him, and the butt-end of the spear quivered. Then and there the mighty Ares robbed it of its force. And now they would have rushed upon each other with their swords at close quarters, had not the two Aiantes, eager for battle, separated them, having come through the throng at their comrade’s call. At the sight of them, Hector and Aeneas and godlike Chromius drew back again in fear, and left Aretus lying there, his heart torn out. And Automedon, swift as Ares, stripped him of his armor and spoke, exulting: “Truly, I have eased the grief in my heart just a little for the death of the son of Menoetius, though the man I have slain is a lesser one.” So saying, he took up the bloody spoils and placed them in the chariot, and he himself mounted, his feet and his hands above steeped in blood, like a lion that has devoured a bull. And again over Patroclus the mighty conflict was stretched, grievous and tear-filled. And Athena stirred up the strife, descending from heaven, for far-seeing Zeus had sent her forth to rouse the Danaans, for his mind had now turned. As Zeus stretches a purple rainbow for mortals from heaven to be a sign of war or of a bitter winter storm, which halts the works of men upon the earth and distresses the flocks, so she, shrouding herself in a purple cloud, entered the host of the Achaeans and roused each man. First she spoke to the son of Atreus, strong Menelaus, urging him on, for he was near her, taking the form and the unwearying voice of Phoenix: “For you, Menelaus, it will surely be a disgrace and a reproach if the swift dogs of the Trojans tear apart the faithful comrade of noble Achilles beneath their wall. Hold your ground firmly, and rouse all the people.” Menelaus, good at the war cry, answered her in turn: “Phoenix, my father, ancient and honored one, if only Athena would grant me strength and keep the rush of missiles from me! Then I would be willing to stand by and defend Patroclus, for his death has deeply touched my heart. But Hector has the terrible fury of fire and does not cease from slaying with the bronze, for Zeus grants him the glory.” So he spoke, and the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, was glad that he had prayed to her first of all the gods. She put strength in his shoulders and his knees, and in his breast she placed the courage of a fly, which, though driven away time and again from a man’s skin, is ever eager to bite, so sweet to it is human blood. With such courage she filled his dark heart, and he went and stood over Patroclus and cast his shining spear. There was among the Trojans a man named Podes, son of Eetion, rich and noble, and Hector honored him most of all the people, for he was his dear companion and friend at the feast. Him fair-haired Menelaus struck on the belt as he started to flee, and drove the bronze right through. He fell with a thud, and Menelaus, son of Atreus, dragged the body from among the Trojans into the company of his comrades. But Apollo, standing near Hector, urged him on, in the likeness of Phaenops, son of Asius, who lived in Abydos and was the dearest to him of all his guest-friends. In his likeness, Apollo the far-worker spoke: “Hector, what other of the Achaeans will fear you now, when you have shrunk from Menelaus, who before was a soft spearman? Now he has gone off alone, carrying a body from among the Trojans. He has killed your faithful comrade, a noble man among the front fighters, Podes, son of Eetion.” So he spoke, and a black cloud of grief enveloped Hector, and he strode forth through the front ranks, clad in gleaming bronze. And at that moment, the son of Cronos took up his tasseled, glittering aegis, and he covered Ida in clouds, and he flashed his lightning and thundered mightily, and he shook the aegis, giving victory to the Trojans and putting the Achaeans to flight. Peneleos the Boeotian was the first to begin the rout. He was struck on the shoulder with a spear as he was ever turned toward the foe, a glancing blow, but the point of Polydamas’s spear grazed the bone, for he had come close to cast it. Then Hector, at close range, wounded Leitus, son of great-hearted Alectryon, in the hand at the wrist, and put an end to his fighting. He looked about him in terror, for he no longer hoped in his heart that he could fight the Trojans with a spear in his hand. As Hector rushed after Leitus, Idomeneus struck his corselet on the chest beside the nipple, but the long spear shaft broke at the socket, and the Trojans cried out. And Hector cast his spear at Idomeneus, Deucalion’s son, as he stood in his chariot. He missed him by a little, but he struck Coeranus, the squire and charioteer of Meriones, who had followed him from well-built Lyctus. For Idomeneus had first come on foot, leaving his curved ships, and he would have granted a great victory to the Trojans had not Coeranus swiftly driven up the swift-footed horses. So he came as a light of deliverance for Idomeneus and warded off the pitiless day, but he himself lost his life at the hands of man-slaying Hector. Hector struck him beneath the jaw and the ear, and the spear knocked out his teeth at the root and cut through the middle of his tongue. He fell from the chariot, and the reins scattered on the ground. Meriones gathered them in his own hands, stooping from the plain, and spoke to Idomeneus: “Lay on the whip now, until you reach the swift ships. You yourself know that the strength of the Achaeans is no more.” So he spoke, and Idomeneus whipped the fine-maned horses toward the hollow ships, for fear had indeed fallen upon his heart. Nor did it escape great-hearted Ajax and Menelaus that Zeus was now granting the wavering victory to the Trojans. Great Telamonian Ajax was the first to speak among them: “Ah, my friends, even one who is a great fool could see now that Father Zeus himself is aiding the Trojans. For the missiles of all of them find their mark, whoever casts them, whether he be a coward or a brave man; Zeus guides them all straight. But ours all fall uselessly to the ground. Come, let us devise the best plan among ourselves, both how we might drag the body away, and how we ourselves might return to be a joy to our dear comrades. They, I imagine, are looking this way and grieving, and they think that the fury and the invincible hands of man-slaying Hector will not be checked, but will fall upon our black ships. Would that there were some comrade to carry a message with all speed to the son of Peleus, for I do not think he has even heard the dreadful news that his dear comrade has been slain. But I cannot see such a man anywhere among the Achaeans, for they and their horses alike are shrouded in mist. Father Zeus, deliver the sons of the Achaeans from this gloom! Make the heavens clear, and grant that our eyes may see. Then, if it so pleases you, destroy us in the light of day.” So he spoke, weeping, and the Father pitied him for his tears. At once he scattered the gloom and drove away the mist. The sun shone forth, and the whole battle was made visible. Then Ajax spoke to Menelaus, good at the war cry: “Look now, Menelaus, nurtured by Zeus, and see if you can find Antilochus, son of great-hearted Nestor, still alive. Urge him to go with speed to the warlike Achilles and tell him that the dearest of his comrades has been slain.” So he spoke, and Menelaus, good at the war cry, did not disobey. He went on his way like a lion from a cattle-pen, which, after growing weary of vexing the dogs and men who keep watch all night long and do not let it take the fattest of the cattle, lunges forward, craving meat, but achieves nothing, for a thick hail of javelins comes flying to meet it from bold hands, and blazing torches, from which it shrinks, for all its fury. And at dawn, it slinks away with a frustrated heart. So from Patroclus went Menelaus, good at the war cry, much against his will, for he greatly feared that the Achaeans, in their grievous terror, might leave him as a prize for the enemy. And he gave many commands to Meriones and the Aiantes: “Aiantes, leaders of the Argives, and Meriones, let each of you now remember the kindness of poor Patroclus. For he knew how to be gentle to all while he lived; but now death and fate have overtaken him.” Having spoken thus, fair-haired Menelaus departed, glancing all around like an eagle, which, they say, has the sharpest sight of all winged creatures under heaven, and which, though high above, does not fail to see the swift-footed hare lying low beneath a leafy thicket, but swoops down upon it and swiftly takes its life. So then, Menelaus, nurtured by Zeus, did your bright eyes range everywhere through the host of your many comrades, to see if you could find the son of Nestor still alive. He soon caught sight of him on the far left of the battle, encouraging his comrades and urging them to fight. Standing close beside him, fair-haired Menelaus said: “Antilochus, come here, nurtured by Zeus, so that you may hear a sorrowful message, one I wish had never come to pass. I think you can already see for yourself, and know, that a god is rolling disaster upon the Danaans, and victory belongs to the Trojans. The best of the Achaeans has been slain, Patroclus, and a great loss has befallen the Danaans. But run quickly to the ships of the Achaeans and tell Achilles, so that he may act swiftly to save the naked body and bring it to the ships; for Hector of the flashing helm now has his armor.” So he spoke, and Antilochus was struck with horror at his words. For a long time a loss of words seized him, and his two eyes filled with tears, and his strong voice was checked. Yet even so he did not neglect the command of Menelaus. He started to run, and he gave his armor to his blameless comrade, Laodocus, who was wheeling the single-hoofed horses near him. So his feet carried him, weeping, from the battle, bearing the evil news to Achilles, son of Peleus. Nor, indeed, Menelaus, nurtured by Zeus, was your heart willing to help the weary comrades from whom Antilochus had departed, and whose loss was felt keenly by the Pylians. Instead, he sent noble Thrasymedes to them, and he himself went back to the hero Patroclus. He ran and stood beside the Aiantes and spoke to them at once: “I have sent that man on his way to the swift ships, to go to swift-footed Achilles. Yet I do not think he will come now, however enraged he may be with godlike Hector, for he cannot in any way fight the Trojans naked as he is. Let us devise the best plan among ourselves, both how we might drag the body away and how we ourselves might escape death and doom from the Trojans’ war cry.” Great Telamonian Ajax then answered him: “All that you have said is right, glorious Menelaus. But you and Meriones, stoop down at once, lift the body, and carry it from the fight. And we two behind you will fight off the Trojans and godlike Hector, we who are one in spirit and one in name, who even before have been accustomed to stand side-by-side and withstand the sharp onslaught of Ares.” So he spoke, and they lifted the body from the ground in their arms, heaving it high. And the Trojan host behind them cried out when they saw the Achaeans lifting the dead. They rushed forward like hounds that dart after a wounded wild boar ahead of the young hunters. For a time they run, eager to tear it to pieces, but when it wheels upon them, trusting in its strength, they shrink back and scatter in all directions. So for a while the Trojans followed in a mass, thrusting with their swords and their two-edged spears. But whenever the Aiantes turned and stood against them, their color changed, and no one dared to dash forward and fight over the body. Thus they, with great effort, carried the body from the battle toward the hollow ships. And a savage conflict stretched out behind them, like a fire that, suddenly set loose, rushes upon a city of men and sets it ablaze, and the houses perish in the great glare, and the force of the wind roars through it. So did a ceaseless din of horses and warrior men press upon them as they departed. But they, like mules that throw their great strength into their work, dragged a beam or a huge ship’s timber down a rugged track from the mountains, their hearts worn out with haste and toil and sweat; so they, with great effort, carried the body. And behind them the Aiantes held the Trojans back, as a wooded ridge holds back water, stretching straight across a plain, holding back even the fierce currents of mighty rivers and at once turning their flow for all of them into the plain, and its strength is not broken by their raging. So did the two Aiantes always hold back the Trojan battle from behind. But the Trojans followed with them, and two among them most of all: Aeneas, son of Anchises, and glorious Hector. And as a cloud of starlings or jackdaws flies, screaming destructively, when they see a falcon approaching, which brings death to small birds, so then before Aeneas and Hector the young men of the Achaeans went, screaming destructively, and they forgot their lust for battle. And much fine armor fell in and around the trench as the Danaans fled, and there was no respite from the war.

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