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 assail20
Thee also, and thou perish premature.[1]
To whom, indignant, Atreus’ son replied.
Self-praise, the Gods do know, is little worth.
But neither lion may in pride compare
Nor panther, nor the savage boar whose heart’s25
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’d50
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 first55
To Jove,[2] assail’d Euphorbus in his turn,
Whom pacing backward in the throat he struck,
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 fangs75
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 oppose80
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 Chief85
Of the Ciconians, Mentes, prompted forth
Against him Hector terrible as Mars,
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 defence95
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 word100
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 van105
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
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’d140
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 gallant Ajax, haste—come quickly—strive145
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 stood160
Slain Menœtiades, as for his whelps
The lion stands; him through some forest drear
Leading his little ones, the hunters meet;
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 terms170
Indignant, reprimanded Hector thus,