III
The tide of battle had thus turned again, and the Greeks were being driven steadily back upon their camp. The roar of the conflict reached the ears of Achilles, who was standing near his ship, peering out eagerly over the Trojan plain; and at the same moment he saw Nestor driving past in his chariot, bringing with him the wounded Machaon. Then he called to Patroclus, and bade him go and inquire who the injured man was. "I think," he added, "that it was Machaon; but the car passed me in a flash, and I saw not his face. Methinks the hour of my revenge is near, for the Greeks are in a sore strait." Ah! son of Peleus, thy revenge is indeed near, but thou little dreamest how dearly thou wilt pay for that bitter morsel.
When Patroclus reached the tent of Nestor he found the venerable King of Pylos sitting with Machaon, waiting while a handmaid prepared for them a slight refection. The woman drew a table before them, and on it she placed a brazen dish, with onions, and honeycomb, and barley cakes. Then she took a massive cup, embossed with gold, resting on a double base, and having four golden handles, each one of which was wrought in the form of two doves, which seemed to be feeding from the cup. In this vessel she prepared a posset, pouring in a rich red wine, into which she sprinkled cheese of goats' milk and white barley meal. And when the posset was ready she set it on the table, and bade them drink.
The cup was very weighty, and a strong hand was needed to lift it to the lips; but Nestor raised it easily, old as he was, and was about to take a draught, when, looking up, he saw Patroclus standing at the door of the tent. Replacing the goblet on the table, Nestor rose to greet him, and taking him by the hand invited him to enter. But Patroclus hesitated, wishing to return at once with the required information to his friend, whose impatient and exacting mood he knew and feared. "I was sent," he said, "to ask the name of the wounded man, and I see that it is Machaon. Achilles waits for an answer, and I dare not keep him waiting." Nevertheless, he lingered awhile, and listened to the long harangue of that "old man eloquent," who soon wandered, according to his wont, into a long story of his youthful prowess, when he lived as the sole survivor of twelve sons in the house of his father Neleus. "But why," he asked, when that theme was exhausted—"why should Achilles inquire about one wounded Greek? He knows not the extent of our mischances, nor how much cause we have to mourn. Diomede, the valiant son of Tydeus, is stricken with an arrow, Agamemnon also is wounded, and likewise Odysseus. Will Achilles now be satisfied, or is he waiting until our ships are consumed with fire, and all of us put to the sword? Would that this arm of mine were as of yore, when I was the bulwark of my father's house, and of all my people. But Achilles puts forth his might and his valour only for his own honour and glory, and cares not though his country perish. Canst thou do nothing with him? Remember the charge which Menœtius, thy father, gave thee, when we were sojourning, I and Odysseus, in the house of Peleus. We came thither to summon thee and Achilles to the war, and ye were both fain to go. And these were the parting words of Menœtius to thee: "My son, Achilles, is far mightier than thou, but thou art the elder, and it is for thee to guide him, and counsel him for his good. Be wise, and be kind, and he will obey thee."
"Ah! take those words to heart, and reason with that wilful youth. If he is obeying some oracle from Zeus, which forbids him to go into battle, at least let him send thee to lead the Myrmidons in his stead, and let him lend thee his armour, that the Trojans may be affrighted when they see thee, thinking that Achilles has arisen. Thus, at least, we shall get a little respite, and gain time to breathe."
Pondering deeply on the last words of Nestor, which were to prove so fatal to himself, Patroclus hastened back on the way to his own quarters. But he was to be delayed a second time: for as he was passing the tent of Odysseus he met Eurypylus, one of the bravest of the Greeks, who came limping towards him, being wounded in the thigh by an arrow. He was a pitiful sight, begrimed with dust and sweat, and bleeding copiously from his wound. And Patroclus groaned in spirit when he saw him, for he was cut to the heart to find so many of his comrades disabled. "Woe is me!" he said, with a glance of pity, "to see thee thus. But tell me, how goes the day?"
"We can keep the field no longer," answered Eurypylus. "The Greeks must retire behind their barriers. But thou seest how grievously I am hurt; take me with thee to thy tent, and cut the arrow out of my thigh, and when thou hast washed my wound with warm water, lay thereon some of the powerful simples which Achilles received from the wise centaur, Chiron. For of the two leeches of the army one, Machaon, is in need of a physician himself, and Podalirius, the other, is fighting in the front."
"I am in haste," said Patroclus, "howbeit, I will not leave thee in this state"; and, supporting the wounded man in his arms, he guided him slowly to his tent, and seating him on a couch of bulls' hides played the part of physician with such skill and success that the blood was stanched, and the sharp pain allayed.
The Attack on the Grecian Camp
The Greeks were now driven back upon their defences, and a furious struggle ensued for the possession of the walls. The battle was no longer a succession of duels, such as we have witnessed hitherto, but a desperate contest for life and death, in which high and low, nobles and commons, had to take their share. As before, Hector took the lead, and tried to force his way across the moat, and up the steep slope on the other side, which was topped by a wall of stone, and a stiff fence of palisades. Again and again he rushed at the yawning moat in his car, but each time his horses refused the leap, and stood neighing and trembling, with their hoofs planted at the brink.
At last, perceiving that he was wasting his strength to no purpose, he changed his method of attack, and leaving his car in charge of a squire prepared to lead the assault on foot. Some time was lost while he was collecting a picked body of men to follow him, and instructing them how to proceed; and while he was taking his measures, Asius, a captain of the allies, made a bold attempt to carry the Greek position at a single blow. Disregarding Hector's orders, he remained in his chariot, called to his troop to keep close behind him, and drove rapidly round the line of the wall, looking for a weak point where he might hope to force an entrance. He succeeded beyond his hopes; for on the extreme left of the camp he found a gate which was still open to admit any stragglers who might have been left behind in the flight of the Greeks. With a shout of triumph he drove straight at the open gateway, with all his company following pell-mell. But just as he was about to cross the portals he found himself confronted by a pair of gigantic brothers, who stood like two mighty oaks deep-rooted on a mountain top, ready to dispute the way. They were well supported by the defenders who lined the walls, and a hail of stones and javelins rattled down on the shields of Asius and his men, who were driven back with loss and compelled to retire out of range. The gates were then closed and barred, and for this time the camp was saved.
Meanwhile the Trojans under Hector's command were still hesitating on the brink of the moat. For a strange portent had occurred, which gave them pause, just as they were rushing to the assault. On the left hand of the army they saw an eagle soaring high in the air, holding a huge serpent in his talons, which writhed and struggled to escape. And indeed the eagle had met his match, for suddenly the serpent drew back his head, and darting forward bit his captor in the breast. The eagle gave a scream of pain, and dropping the serpent, which fell in the midst of the Trojans, flew