Whom answer’d storm-swift Iris: “Well we know Thy glorious arms are by the Trojans held; But go thou forth, and from above the ditch Appear before them; daunted at the sight, Haply the Trojans may forsake the field, And breathing-time afford the sons of Greece, Toil-worn; for little pause has yet been theirs.” Swift Iris said, and vanish’d; then uprose Achilles, dear to Jove; and Pallas threw Her tassell’d aegis o’er his shoulders broad; His head encircling with a coronet Of golden cloud, whence fiery flashes gleam’d. As from an island city up to Heav’n The smoke ascends, which hostile forces round Beleaguer, and all day with cruel war From its own state cut off; but when the sun Hath set, blaze frequent forth the beacon fires; High rise the flames, and to the dwellers round Their signal flash, if haply o’er the sea May come the needful aid; so brightly flash’d That fiery light around Achilles’ head. He left the wall, and stood above the ditch, But from the Greeks apart, rememb’ring well His mother’s prudent counsel; there he stood, And shouted loudly; Pallas join’d her voice, And fill’d with terror all the Trojan host. Clear as the trumpet’s sound, which calls to arms Some town, encompass’d round with hostile bands, Rang out the voice of great Æacides. But when Achilles’ voice of brass they heard, They quail’d in spirit; the sleek-skin’d steeds themselves, Conscious of coming ill, bore back the cars: Their charioteers, dismay’d, beheld the flame Which, kindled by the blue-ey’d Goddess, blaz’d Unquench’d around the head of Peleus’ son. Thrice shouted from the ditch the godlike chief; Thrice terror struck both Trojans and Allies; And there and then beside their chariots fell Twelve of their bravest; while the Greeks, well pleas’d, Patroclus’ body from the fray withdrew, And on a litter laid; around him stood His comrades mourning; with them, Peleus’ son, Shedding hot tears, as on his friend he gaz’d, Laid on the bier, and pierc’d with deadly wounds: Him to the war with horses and with cars He sent; but ne’er to welcome his return. By stag-ey’d Juno sent, reluctant sank Th’ unwearied sun beneath the ocean wave; The sun had set, and breath’d awhile the Greeks From the fierce labours of the balanc’d field; Nor less the Trojans, from the stubborn fight Retiring, from the chariots loos’d their steeds: But ere they shar’d the ev’ning meal, they met In council; all stood up; none dar’d to sit; For fear had fallen on all, when reappear’d Achilles, from the battle long withdrawn. First Panthous’ son, the sage Polydamas, Address’d th’ assembly; his sagacious mind Alone beheld the future and the past; The friend of Hector, born the selfsame night; One in debate, the other best in arms; Who thus with prudent speech began, and said: