long survive;
  But, even now, fate, and a violent death
  Attend thee by Achilles’ hands ordain’d
  To perish, by AEacides the brave.[21] 1045
    So saying, the shades of death him wrapp’d around. 
  Down into Ades from his limbs dismiss’d,
  His spirit fled sorrowful, of youth’s prime
  And vigorous manhood suddenly bereft
  Then, him though dead, Hector again bespake. 1050
    Patroclus! these prophetic strains of death
  At hand, and fate, why hast thou sung to me? 
  May not the son of Thetis azure-hair’d,
  Achilles, perish first by spear of mine? 
    He said; then pressing with his heel the trunk 1055
  Supine, and backward thursting it, he drew
  His glittering weapon from the wound, nor stay’d,
  But lance in hand, the godlike charioteer
  Pursued of swift AEacides, on fire
  To smite Automedon; but him the steeds 1060
  Immortal, rapid, by the Gods conferr’d
  (A glorious gift) on Peleus, snatch’d away.

THE ILIAD.

BOOK XVII.

ARGUMENT OF THE SEVENTEENTH BOOK.

Sharp contest ensues around the body of Patroclus.  Hector puts on the armor of Achilles.  Menelaus, having dispatched Antilochus to Achilles with news of the death of Patroclus, returns to the battle, and, together with Meriones, bears Patroclus off the field, while the Ajaces cover their retreat.

BOOK XVII.

  Nor Menelaus, Atreus’ valiant son,
  Knew not how Menoetiades had fallen
  By Trojan hands in battle; forth he rush’d
  All bright in burnish’d armor through his van,
  And as some heifer with maternal fears 5
  Now first acquainted, compasses around
  Her young one murmuring, with tender moan,
  So moved the hero of the amber locks
  Around Patroclus, before whom his spear
  Advancing and broad shield, he death denounced 10
  On all opposers; neither stood the son
  Spear-famed of Panthus inattentive long
  To slain Patroclus, but approach’d the dead,
  And warlike Menelaus thus bespake. 
    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 assail 20
  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’s 25
  High temper flashes in his eyes, with these
  The spear accomplish’d youths of