Stalked here and there, and in his hand a huge great bead-hook held,
Twelve cubits long, and full of iron. And then again there grew
A bitter conflict at the fleet. You would have said none drew
A weary breath, nor ever did, they laid so freshly on.
It seemed that even Ajax would be overborne. But Patroclus, the loved friend of Achilles, saw this destruction coming upon the Greeks, and he earnestly besought Achilles, if he would not be moved to sally forth to the rescue himself, to suffer him to go out against the Trojans, bearing the arms of Achilles and leading his Myrmidons into the fray. Which leave Achilles granted him.
III.—Of Patroclus, and the Rousing of Achilles
Bearing the armour of Achilles, save the spear which none other could wield, Patroclus sped forth, leading the Myrmidons.
And when ye see upon a mountain bred
A den of wolves about whose hearts unmeasured strengths are fed,
New come from currie of a stag, their jaws all blood-besmeared,
And when from some black-water fount they all together herd,
There having plentifully lapped with thin and thrust-out tongues
The top and clearest of the spring, go, belching from their lungs
The clottered gore, look dreadfully, and entertain no dread,
Their bellies gaunt, all taken up with being so rawly fed;
Then say that such in strength and look, were great Achilles' men
Now ordered for the dreadful fight.
The Trojans, taking Patroclus for Achilles, were now driven before him and the other Grecian chiefs. Patroclus slew Sarpedon, king of Lycia, and the fight raged furiously about the corse. The Trojans fled, Patroclus pursued. At last Phoebus Apollo smote his armour from him; Euphorbus thrust him through from behind, and Hector slew him. Ajax and Menelaus came to rescue Patroclus' body; Hector fled, but had already stripped off the armour of Achilles, which he now put on in place of his own. Again the battle waxed furious about the dead Patroclus until Menelaus and Meriones bore the corpse while the two Ajaces stood guard.
Now, when the ill news was brought to Achilles, he fell into a great passion of grief; which lamentation Thetis, his mother, heard from the sea-deeps; and came to him, bidding him not go forth to the war till she had brought him new armour from Vulcan. Nevertheless, at the bidding of Iris, he arose:
And forth the wall he stepped and stood, and sent abroad his voice;
Which Pallas far-off echoed, who did betwixt them noise
Shrill tumult to a topless height. His brazen voice once heard,
The minds of all were startled, so they yielded. Thrice he spake,
And thrice, in heat of all the charge, the Trojans started back.