Dispensing all the hospitable rites. With food and wine recruited, I began My speech, and urg’d ye both to join the war: Nor were ye loth to go; much sage advice Your elders gave; old Peleus bade his son To aim at highest honours, and surpass His comrades all; Menoetius, Actor’s son, To thee this counsel gave: ‘My son,’ he said, ‘Achilles is by birth above thee far; Thou art in years the elder; he in strength Surpasses thee; do thou with prudent words And timely speech address him, and advise And guide him; he will, to his good, obey.’ “Such were the old man’s words; but thou hast let His counsel slip thy mem’ry; yet ev’n now Speak to Achilles thus, and stir his soul, If haply he will hear thee; and who knows But by the grace of Heav’n thou mayst prevail? For great is oft a friend’s persuasive pow’r. But if the fear of evil prophesied, Or message by his Goddess-mother brought From Jove, restrain him, let him send thee forth With all his force of warlike Myrmidons, That thou mayst be the saving light of Greece. Then let him bid thee to the battle bear His glitt’ring arms; if so the men of Troy, Scar’d by his likeness, may forsake the field, And breathing-time afford the sons of Greece, Toil-worn; for little pause has yet been theirs. Fresh and unwearied, ye with ease may drive To their own city, from our ships and tents, The Trojans, worn and battle-wearied men.” Thus he; Patroclus’ spirit within him burn’d, And tow’rd Achilles’ tent in haste he sped. But, running, as Ulysses’ ship he pass’d, Where was the Council and the Justice-seat, And where were built the altars of the Gods, There met him, halting from the battle-field, Shot through the thigh, Euaemon’s Heav’n-born son, Eurypylus; his head and shoulders dank With clammy sweat, while from his grievous wound Stream’d the dark blood; yet firm was still his soul. Menoetius’ noble son with pity saw, And deeply sorrowing thus address’d the chief: “Woe for the chiefs and councillors of Greece! And must ye, far from friends and native home, Glut with your flesh the rav’ning dogs of Troy? Yet tell me this, Heav’n-born Eurypylus; Still do the Greeks ’gainst Hector’s giant force Make head? or fall they, vanquish’d by his spear?” To whom with prudent speech, Eurypylus: “No source, Heav’n-born Patroclus, have the Greeks, Of aid, but all must perish by their ships: For in the ships lie all our bravest late, By spear or arrow struck, by Trojan hands; And fiercer, hour by hour, their onset grows. But save me now, and lead me to the ships; There cut the arrow out, and from the wound With tepid water cleanse the clotted blood: Then soothing drugs apply, of healing pow’r, Which from Achilles, thou, ’tis said, hast learn’d, From Chiron, justest of the Centaurs, he. For Podalirius and Machaon both, Our leeches, one lies wounded in the tents, Himself requiring sore the leech’s aid; The other on the plain still dares the fight.”