He said, nor did Atrides not comply; But slow as moves a lion from the fold, Which dogs and youths with ceaseless toil hath worn, Who all night long have kept their watch, to guard From his assault the choicest of the herd; He, hunger-pinch’d, hath oft th’ attempt renew’d, But nought prevail’d; by spears on ev’ry side, And jav’lins met, wielded by stalwart hands, And blazing torches, which his courage daunt; Till with the morn he sullenly withdraws; So from Patroclus, with reluctant step Atrides mov’d; for much he fear’d the Greeks Might to the Trojans, panic-struck, the dead Abandon; and departing, he besought The two Ajaces and Meriones: “Ye two Ajaces, leaders of the Greeks, And thou, Meriones, remember now Our lost Patroclus’ gentle courtesy, How kind and genial was his soul to all, While yet he liv’d—now sunk, alas! in death.” Thus saying, Menelaus took his way, Casting his glance around on ev’ry side, Like to an eagle, fam’d of sharpest sight Of all that fly beneath the vault of Heav’n; Whom, soaring in the clouds, the crouching hare Eludes not, though in leafiest covert hid; But swooping down, he rends her life away: So, Menelaus, through the ranks of war Thy piercing glances ev’ry way were turn’d, If Nestor’s son, alive, thou mightst descry; Him on the field’s extremest left he found, Cheering his friends, and urging to the fight; He stood beside him, and address’d him thus: “Antilochus, come hither, godlike friend, And woful tidings hear, which would to Heav’n I had not to impart; thyself thou seest How Jove hath heap’d disaster on the Greeks, And vict’ry giv’n to Troy; but one has fallen, Our bravest, best! Patroclus lies in death; And deeply must the Greeks his loss deplore. But haste thee to the ships, to Peleus’ son The tidings bear, if haply he may save The body of Patroclus from the foe; His naked body, for his arms are now The prize of Hector of the glancing helm.” He said; and at his words Antilochus Astounded stood; long time his tongue in vain For utt’rance strove; his eyes were fill’d with tears, His cheerful voice was mute; yet not the less To Menelaus’ bidding gave his care: Swiftly he sped; but to Laodocus, His comrade brave, who waited with his car In close attendance, first consign’d his arms; Then from the field with active limbs he flew, Weeping, with mournful news, to Peleus’ son. Nor, noble Menelaus, did thy heart Incline thee to remain, and aid thy friends, Where from their war-worn ranks the Pylian troops Deplor’d the absence of Antilochus; But these in godlike Thrasymedes’ charge He left; and to Patroclus hast’ning back, Beside th’ Ajaces stood, as thus he spoke: “Him to Achilles, to the ships, in haste I have despatch’d; yet fiercely as his wrath May burn tow’rd Hector, I can scarce expect His presence here; for how could he, unarm’d, With Trojans fight? But take we counsel now How from the field to bear away our dead, And ’scape ourselves from death by Trojan hands.”