Patroclus Hastens into Battle and Scatters the Trojans—Hector and
Patroclus
Profoundly grieved at the sad fate of his comrades, Patroclus turned
from the bloody spectacle and hurried to Achilles’ tent. Hot tears were
rolling down his cheeks as he entered. Achilles, dismayed, forgot to
rebuke him and inquired with concern: “Why dost thou weep, Patroclus?
Speak, tell me all!”
Sighing deeply, Patroclus replied: “Son of Peleus, thou mighty hero of
the Achaians, do not be angry with me if I tell thee that the Achaians
are suffering too great misery. All over the field and at the ships
their bravest warriors have fallen, and but few of the princes remain
unharmed. Diomedes has been shot through the foot and Agamemnon through
the arm; Ulysses is wounded in the side and Eurypylus received an arrow
in his thigh. The deserted soldiers are panic-stricken and thou,
obstinate one, wilt not take pity on them. Cruel man! Thou art so brave
and yet thou wilt not raise thy hand to save thy despairing friends. May
a god never be angry with me as thou art angry. Surely Peleus is not thy
father nor a goddess thy mother. The dark sea depths or adamantine rocks
must have brought thee forth, so unfeeling is thy heart. Or is it that
thou obeyest some secret command of the gods and darest not take part in
the battle? Then, at least, send me and give me thy Myrmidons that I may
perchance drive back the Trojans from the ships. Lend me thy armor that
the Trojans, deceived, may retreat and the Achaian warriors take fresh
courage.”
“No behest of the gods restrains me,” replied Achilles, “nor is it my
purpose to be angry forever. As soon as the Trojans approach my tents
and ships, I shall gird on my sword and spear, and woe to him whom I
shall meet! But until then, let Agamemnon bitterly repent his outrage
and promise expiatory sacrifices to all the gods. But I shall not allow
the Trojans the pleasure of destroying the ships. Therefore go, as thou
desirest. Lead the Myrmidons into battle, for the danger is great.
Diomedes no longer shakes his mighty spear and I do not hear the hated
Agamemnon’s valiant battle cry; instead, Hector’s lionlike voice
penetrates my tent, with the loud rejoicing of the Trojans. Take my
resplendent armor, but listen well to what I say. Thou mayest drive the
Trojans from the ships and back to the intrenchments, but pursue them no
farther. Take care not to allow thyself to be enticed into an open
battle, nor still less dare to storm Troy’s fortress without me, for
mine must be the glory, that the Achaians may learn whom they have
insulted.”
With these words he climbed to the upper deck of his ship to
reconnoitre. And how horrified he was to see Protesilaus’ ship in
flames, Hector still advancing, and the Achaians giving way. “Hurry,
hurry, Patroclus!” he cried and smote his thigh with impatience. “The
ships are already burning! Put on the armor quickly, while I gather the
Myrmidons.” There were more than two thousand of them, splendid warriors
of great strength and stature. At their leader’s call they assembled
under arms. Achilles divided them into five companies, to each of which
he gave a leader of proven courage and experience. Meanwhile Patroclus
bade Automedon bring forth Achilles’ chariot and horses, with a second
one for emergencies. Then he put on the shining armor, placed on his
head the great helmet with its crest of waving horsehair, and took two
lances, but not that of Achilles, for no other living mortal could wield
that.
Thus armed he sprang into the chariot beside Automedon, who was waiting,
whip in hand. Then Achilles went to the chest which his mother had given
him, filled with cloths and warm garments, and took out of it a precious
golden goblet from which he was accustomed to make sacrifice to the
greatest of the gods alone. He dipped it in the sea, washed his hands,
then filled the goblet with clear wine, and with it in his hands went to
the door of his tent. “Father Jupiter, ruler of the world,” he prayed,
while he poured the first drops on the ground in honor of the god, “hear
me now as thou didst hear me when I was honored before the Achaians.
Grant that my friend may return to me covered with glory, and fill his
heart and the hearts of his companions with courage, that they may make
an end of the Trojans at the ships, and that Hector may learn that
Patroclus knows how to order the battle even if I am not with him.”
The appearance of Patroclus and his followers was like sunshine after a
shower to the Achaians. The Trojans were frightened, for they thought
that Achilles had come forth again, and even without him the advent of
two thousand fresh warriors was matter enough for concern. When
Achilles’ band made a dash for Protesilaus’ burning ship, not a Trojan
stood his ground. The space about the ship was cleared by the Myrmidons
and they quenched the fire which had already destroyed half of the ship.
But the battle was by no means at an end. The leaders of the Trojans
rallied their forces inside the intrenchments and put them in order once
more. Patroclus did his friend credit; he was indefatigable and himself
slew many of the boldest warriors. The other Achaian leaders joined him
and new life and hope filled every breast.
The Trojans could no longer maintain their position inside the
intrenchments. Hector was the first to reach the open plain with his
chariot, but many another who tried to follow him was crushed in the
throng. But the rout would not have been so general had Patroclus
remembered Achilles’ instructions. But his success, the suddenness of
the victory, and particularly his secret desire to kill Hector, misled
the zealous man to pursue the fleeing enemy. He jumped from his chariot,
which he instructed to have follow him, and hurried after his victims.
Now he overthrew Pronous and took his armor; next he slew the charioteer
Thestor and took his likewise. With a stone he crushed the head of
Euryalus, who was about to attack him, and many others were struck down
by his mighty arm. Not a Trojan was able to withstand Patroclus. The
foolish man! Had he but remembered Achilles’ warning he might have
escaped death; but Jupiter’s decree is mightier than man.
A few hours earlier the Trojans had broken down the enemy’s wall and now
the Achaians were seeking to conquer the lofty walls of Troy’s fortress,
and Patroclus himself was ambitious of being the first to enter the
city. But Hector plucked up courage and commanded his charioteer to
drive straight at the leader. As soon as he saw him coming, Patroclus
left the wall and ran furiously to meet him, holding his lance in his
left hand and in the right a stone which he had hastily picked up. This
he threw with all his might at the two tall men in the chariot, and
behold, it struck the good Kebriones, Priam’s son, and crushed his
skull, so that his body fell abruptly across the chariot seat. Patroclus
cried out maliciously: “See how hasty the man is! There are splendid
divers among the Trojans. If he could but have tried his luck in the
water, instead of in the sand, he would have caught plenty of oysters to
satisfy his hunger.”
He sprang upon the wounded man to take his arms, but Hector jumped from
his chariot and seized his brother’s head. Patroclus took his feet and
the two men struggled for the body. A crowd of Trojans and Achaians came
to their aid, and spears, shields, and naked swords rattled noisily
against one another. The Trojans defended Hector as well as they could,
but while he struggled for the body, none could get near him. However, a
bold Trojan seized a favorable opportunity, and with a powerful blow of
his sword, knocked off Patroclus’ helmet, cutting the strap of his
shield at the same time, so that it fell to the earth. The hero started
back and let go the corpse, but as he turned, Euphorbus stabbed him in
the back. He tried to escape, but Hector laid him low with his heavy
lance. The Achaians trembled, and even the most courageous of them lost
their heads, and none dared interfere as Hector, bracing his foot
against the body, drew out his spear, then stripped off the armor. It
was now Hector’s turn to mock at the dying man and he cried: “Well,
Patroclus, dost thou still expect to lay waste our city and carry off
our women? One could see thou hadst great deeds in mind. No doubt
Achilles bade thee not return without Hector’s bloody coat of mail. Now,
poor man, thou liest here and givest me thy fine armor, but thee I give
to the dogs and birds of prey for food.”
Faintly the dying man answered him: “It is a foolish boast, Hector. Thou
camest, when I was defenseless and wounded, to rob me. In open conflict
I could have slain twenty like thee, but a boy could have done what thou
hast done. But vengeance is approaching and when it comes, think of me.
The godlike Achilles still lives.”
“Spare me thy prophecies and die,” replied Hector. “Who knoweth but
Achilles, like thee, may give up his soul at the point of my spear?”
With these words he left the dying man and carried the splendid armor to
a place of safety, then went back into the fray.