Her then were her feet bearing to Olympus, but the Achaeans fled with wondrous shouting from before man-slaying Hector, and came to the ships and the Hellespont. Howbeit Patroclus, the squire of Achilles, might the well-greaved Achaeans not draw forth from amid the darts; for now again there overtook him the host and the chariots of Troy, and Hector, son of Priam, in might as it were a flame. Thrice from behind did glorious Hector seize him by the feet, fain to drag him away, and called mightily upon the Trojans, and thrice did the two Aiantes, clothed in furious valour, hurl him back from the corpse. But he, ever trusting in his might, would now charge upon them in the fray, and would now stand and shout aloud; but backward would he give never a whit. And as shepherds of the steading avail not in any wise to drive from a carcase a tawny lion when he hungereth sore, even so the twain warrior Aiantes availed not to affright Hector, Priam's son, away from the corpse. And now would he have dragged away the body, and have won glory unspeakable, had not wind-footed, swift Iris speeding from Olympus with a message that he array him for battle, come to the son of Peleus, all unknown of Zeus and the other gods, for Hera sent her forth.
And she drew nigh, and spake to him winged words: Rouse thee, son of Peleus, of all men most dread. Bear thou aid to Patroclus, for whose sake is a dread strife afoot before the ships. And men are slaying one another, these seeking to defend the corpse of the dead, while the Trojans charge on to drag him to windy Ilios; and above all glorious Hector is fain to drag him away; and his heart biddeth him shear the head from the tender neck, and fix it on the stakes of the wall. Nay, up then, lie here no more! Let awe come upon thy soul that Patroclus should become the sport of the dogs of Troy. Thine were the shame, if anywise he come, a corpse despitefully entreated. Then swift-footed goodly Achilles answered her: Goddess Iris, who of the gods sent thee a messenger to me? And to him again spake wind-footed, swift Iris: Hera sent me forth, the glorious wife of Zeus; and the son of Cronos, throned on high, knoweth naught hereof, neither any other of the immortals that dwell upon snowy Olympus.
Then in answer to her spake Achilles, swift of foot: But how shall I enter the fray? They yonder hold my battle-gear; and my dear mother forbade that I array me for the fight until such time as mine eyes should behold her again coming hither; for she pledged her to bring goodly armour from Hephaestus. No other man know I whose glorious armour I might don, except it were the shield of Aias, son of Telamon. Howbeit himself, I ween, hath dalliance amid the foremost fighters, as he maketh havoc with his spear in defence of dead Patroclus. And to him again spake wind-footed, swift Iris: Well know we of ourselves that thy glorious armour is held of them; but even as thou art go thou to the trench, and show thyself to the men of Troy, if so be that, seized with fear of thee, the Trojans may desist from battle, and the warlike sons of the Achaeans may take breath, wearied as they are; for scant is the breathing-space in war. When she had thus spoken swift-footed Iris departed; but Achilles, dear to Zeus, roused him, and round about his mighty shoulders Athene flung her tasselled aegis, and around his head the fair goddess set thick a golden cloud, and forth from the man made blaze a gleaming fire.
And as when a smoke goeth up from a city and reacheth to heaven from afar, from an island that foes beleaguer, and the men thereof contend the whole day through in hateful war from their city's walls, and then at set of sun flame forth the beacon-fires one after another and high aloft darteth the glare thereof for dwellers round about to behold, if so be they may come in their ships to be warders off of bane; even so from the head of Achilles went up the gleam toward heaven. Then strode he from the wall to the trench, and there took his stand, yet joined him not to the company of the Achaeans, for he had regard to his mother's wise behest. There stood he and shouted, and from afar Pallas Athene uttered her voice; but amid the Trojans he roused confusion unspeakable. Clear as the trumpet's voice when it soundeth aloud beneath the press of murderous foemen that beleaguer a city, so clear was then the voice of the son of Aeacus. And when they heard the brazen voice of the son of Aeacus the hearts of all were dismayed; and the fair-maned horses turned their cars backward, for their spirits boded bane. And the charioteers were stricken with terror when they beheld the unwearied fire blaze in fearsome wise above the head of the great-souled son of Peleus; for the goddess, flashing-eyed Athene, made it blaze. Thrice over the trench shouted mightily the goodly Achilles, and thrice the Trojans and their famed allies were confounded. And there in that hour perished twelve men of their best amid their own chariots and their own spears. But the Achaeans with gladness drew Patroclus forth from out the darts and laid him on a bier, and his dear comrades thronged about him weeping; and amid them followed swift-footed Achilles, shedding hot tears, for that he beheld his trusty comrade lying on the bier, mangled by the sharp bronze. Him verily had he sent forth with horses and chariot into the war, but never again did he welcome his returning.
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