Ἰλιάδος Ρ

Nor did it escape Menelaus, son of Atreus, dear to Ares,

that Patroclus had been overcome by the Trojans in the fighting.

And he strode out through the front ranks, helmed in gleaming bronze,

and paced around him as a mother over her calf,

a first-calf mother, lowing, who had never known birth before;

so golden-haired Menelaus paced around Patroclus.

And before him held his spear and shield rounded on every side,

eager to kill whoever came against him,

Nor did the son of Panthous, skilled with the ash spear, neglect

blameless Patroclus where he had fallen; he came close beside him,

stood there, and addressed Menelaus, dear to Ares:

"Menelaus, son of Atreus, Zeus-nurtured marshal of the people,

draw back, leave the corpse, and let the blood-stained spoils be.

For no one before me among the Trojans and their famed allies

struck Patroclus with a spear through the fierce combat;

so let me win noble glory among the Trojans,

lest I strike you and take away your honey-sweet life."

Greatly angered, golden-haired Menelaus answered him:

"Father Zeus, it is not good to boast beyond measure.

Not even a leopard has such force, nor a lion,

nor a murderous wild boar, whose spirit most of all

swells within his breast in pride of strength,

as the sons of Panthous, skilled with the ash spear, think they have.

Yet the might of Hyperenor, tamer of horses,

had no joy of his youth when he scorned me and stood against me,

and said that among the Danaans I was the most contemptible warrior.

I do not think his own feet carried him home

to gladden his dear wife and honored parents.

So surely I shall break your strength as well, if you

stand against me. But I urge you to withdraw

into the throng, and not stand face to face with me

before you suffer harm; even a fool learns once the deed is done."

So he spoke, but did not persuade him; Euphorbus answered:

"Now indeed, Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, you shall pay in full

for my brother whom you killed, and over whom you speak in triumph.

You widowed his wife in the depths of their new-built bridal chamber,

and laid grievous lament and sorrow upon his parents.

I might bring those poor two a respite from lament

if I carry your head and armor home

and place them in the hands of Panthous and shining Phrontis.

But the labor will not remain untried for long,

nor the struggle unfought, whether it ends in valor or in flight."

So speaking, he struck the shield, round on every side.

But the bronze did not break through; the point bent back

in the stout shield. Then he in turn rose with his bronze,

the son of Atreus, Menelaus, praying to father Zeus:

As Euphorbus drew back, Menelaus stabbed him at the base of the throat

and leaned his weight upon it, trusting in his heavy hand;

the point passed straight through his tender neck,

he fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him.

His hair, lovely as the Graces, was drenched in blood,

and the braids that were bound with gold and silver.

As a man tends the flourishing shoot of an olive

in a lonely place where water wells up in abundance,

lovely and thriving; the breaths of winds shake it

from every side, and it bursts into white blossom;

but suddenly a wind comes with a mighty gale,

wrenches it from its trench and stretches it upon the earth;

such was Euphorbus, son of Panthous, skilled with the ash spear,

whom Menelaus, son of Atreus, killed and stripped of armor.

As when a mountain-bred lion, trusting in his strength,

seizes the finest cow from a grazing herd:

Seizing her, he first breaks her neck with his strong teeth,

then gulps down all her blood and entrails;

devouring her; around him dogs and herdsmen

raise a great clamor from far off, but they will not

come against him, for pale fear seizes them utterly;

so none of them had a heart within his breast that dared

to come against glorious Menelaus.

Then he would easily have carried away the splendid armor of Panthous' son,

Menelaus, son of Atreus, had Phoebus Apollo not begrudged it to him,

and roused Hector against him, equal to swift Ares,

taking the likeness of Mentes, leader of the Cicones;

And speaking to him he addressed him with winged words:

"Hector, you are running this way now in pursuit of what you cannot catch,

the horses of the warlike son of Aeacus; but they are hard

for mortal men to master and to drive,

for any but Achilles, whom an immortal mother bore.

Meanwhile warlike Menelaus, son of Atreus, standing over Patroclus,

has killed the finest of the Trojans,

Euphorbus, son of Panthous, and stopped his furious valor."

So he spoke, and the god went back again amid the toil of men.

But dread grief shrouded Hector's dark heart within him;

then he looked along the ranks and at once recognized

the one stripping away the splendid armor, and the other on the ground

lying there; blood ran from his open wound.

And he strode out through the front ranks, helmed in gleaming bronze,

crying sharply, like Hephaestus' flame,

unquenchable; nor did his piercing shout escape the son of Atreus,

then in anguish he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:

"Ah me, if I leave behind the fine armor

and Patroclus, who lies here for the sake of my honor,

will not some Danaan who sees it be angry with me?

But if, ashamed to yield, I fight Hector and the Trojans alone,

may they not surround me, many against one?

For Hector of the flashing helm is bringing all the Trojans here.

But why has my dear spirit debated this with me?

Whenever a man chooses, against a divine power, to fight a warrior

whom a god honors, soon great ruin rolls upon him.

So no Danaan who sees me will be angry with me

for yielding to Hector, since he fights with a god's aid.

But if only I could hear word of Ajax, good at the war-cry,

then we two might turn back and remember battle-joy,

even against a divine power, if somehow we might save the corpse

for Achilles, son of Peleus; that would be best among these evils."

While he pondered these things in his mind and spirit,

the Trojan ranks came on, and Hector led them.