Patroclus begged his friend to allow him to wear his armour and lead the Myrmidons out to battle, not knowing that he was entreating for his own ruin and death. After some reluctance Achilles gave him leave, yet with the strictest orders not to pursue too far. Fresh and eager for the battle the Myrmidons drove the Trojans back into the plain. Patroclus' course was challenged by the Lycians, whose King Sarpedon faced him in single combat. In great sorrow Zeus watched his son Sarpedon go to his doom; in his agony he shed tear-drops of blood and ordered Death and Sleep to carry the body back to Lycia for burial. The great glory Patroclus had won tempted him to forget his promise to Achilles. He pursued the Trojans back to the walls of the town, slaying Cebriones the charioteer of Hector. In the fight which took place over the body Patroclus was assailed by Hector and Euphorbus under the guidance of Apollo. Hector administered the death-blow; before he died Patroclus foretold a speedy vengeance to come from Achilles. A mighty struggle arose over his body. Menelaus slew Euphorbus, but retreated at the approach of Hector, who seized the armour of Achilles and put it on. A thick cloud settled over the combatants, heightening the dread of battle. The gods came down to encourage their respective warriors; the Greeks were thrust back over the plain, but the bravery of Ajax and Menelaus enabled the latter to save Patroclus' body and carry it from the dust of battle towards the ships. When the news of his friend's death came to Achilles his grief was so mighty that it seemed likely that he would have slain himself. He burst into a lamentation so bitter that his mother heard him in her sea-cave and came forth to learn what new sorrow had taken him. Too late he learned the hard lesson that revenge may be sweet but is always bought at the cost of some far greater thing. "I could not bring salvation to Patroclus or my men, but sit at the ships a useless burden upon the land, albeit I am such a man as no other in war, though others excel me in speech. Perish strife from among men and gods, and anger which inciteth even a prudent man to take offence; far sweeter than dropping honey it groweth in a man's heart like smoke, even now as Agamemnon hath roused me to a fury." Being robbed of his armour he could not sally out to convey his companion's body into the camp. Hera therefore sent Iris to him bidding him merely show himself at the trenches and cry aloud. At the sound of his thrice-repeated cry the Trojans shrank back in terror, leaving the Greeks to carry in Patroclus' body unmolested; then Hera bade the sun set at once into the ocean to end the great day of battle.