At last Sarpedon, son of Jove, ventured to oppose himself in fight to Patroclus.  Jupiter looked down upon him and would have snatched him from the fate which awaited him, but Juno hinted that if he did so it would induce all others of the inhabitants of heaven to interpose in like manner whenever any of their offspring were endangered; to which reason Jove yielded.  Sarpedon threw his spear, but missed Patroclus, but Patroclus threw his with better success.  It pierced Sarpedon’s breast and he fell, and, calling to his friends to save his body from the foe, expired.  Then a furious contest arose for the possession of the corpse.  The Greeks succeeded and stripped Sarpedon of his armor; but Jove would not allow the remains of his son to be dishonored, and by his command Apollo snatched from the midst of the combatants the body of Sarpedon and committed it to the care of the twin brothers Death and Sleep, by whom it was transported to Lycia, the native land of Sarpedon, where it received due funeral rites.

Thus far Patroclus had succeeded to his utmost wish in repelling the Trojans and relieving his countrymen, but now came a change of fortune.  Hector, borne in his chariot, confronted him.  Patroclus threw a vast stone at Hector, which missed its aim, but smote Cebriones, the charioteer, and knocked him from the car.  Hector leaped from the chariot to rescue his friend, and Patroclus also descended to complete his victory.  Thus the two heroes met face to face.  At this decisive moment the poet, as if reluctant to give Hector the glory, records that Phoebus took part against Patroclus.  He struck the helmet from his head and the lance from his hand.  At the same moment an obscure Trojan wounded him in the back, and Hector, pressing forward, pierced him with his spear.  He fell mortally wounded.

Then arose a tremendous conflict for the body of Patroclus, but his armor was at once taken possession of by Hector, who retiring a short distance divested himself of his own armor and put on that of Achilles, then returned to the fight.  Ajax and Menelaus defended the body, and Hector and his bravest warriors struggled to capture it.  The battle raged with equal fortunes, when Jove enveloped the whole face of heaven with a dark cloud.  The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and Ajax, looking round for some one whom he might despatch to Achilles to tell him of the death of his friend, and of the imminent danger that his remains would fall into the hands of the enemy, could see no suitable messenger.  It was then that he exclaimed in those famous lines so often quoted,

    “Father of heaven and earth! deliver thou
    Achaia’s host from darkness; clear the skies;
    Give day; and, since thy sovereign will is such,
    Destruction with it; but, O, give us day.”

    —­Cowper.

Or, as rendered by Pope,