‘Never may such wrath take hold of me as that thou nursest, thrice brave, to the hurting of others,’ answered his comrade. ‘The Greeks are lying wounded and dead. If thou wilt not come to their help, let me lead thy men so that the enemy may be beaten back....’ ‘And give The armour from thy shoulders. I will wear Thy mail, and then the Trojans, at the sight, May think I am Achilles, and may pause From fighting.’ Even as Patroclus pleaded with his friend, a great light flared up against the sky. The Trojans had set fire to the Greek ships. Then, at length, Achilles was roused. He would not go himself to the help of Agamemnon, but he bade Patroclus put on his armour, while he called together his brave warriors and commanded them to follow his friend to battle. Quickly Patroclus donned the well-known armour of Achilles, then calling to Automedon, the chariot driver, he bade him harness Xanthus and Balius, the immortal horses of his friend, for their speed was swift as the wind. As Patroclus vanished from sight in the chariot drawn by Xanthus and Balius, Achilles prayed to Zeus. ‘O Zeus,’ he cried, ‘I send my comrade to this battle. Strengthen his heart within him, and when he has driven from the ships the war and din of battle, scathless then let him return to me and my people with him.’ Down upon the Trojans swept the warriors led by Patroclus. They, seeing the armour of Achilles were afraid, and fled from the ships. But ere long they discovered that it was not Achilles but Patroclus who wore the well-known armour, and they returned to fight with new courage. And ever, where the battle raged most fiercely, did Patroclus bid Automedon drive his chariot. Then the gods bade Hector find Patroclus and slay him. Little trouble had the prince in finding the warrior who wore the armour of Achilles. Bravely the two heroes fought, but Patroclus was not able to stand against the great strength of Hector. Moreover, the gods betrayed him, striking him from behind on the head and shoulders, so that the helmet of Achilles fell in the dust. Apollo also snatched his shield from his arm and broke his spear in two. When Hector saw that his enemy was disarmed, he took his spear and struck him so fiercely that Patroclus fell ‘With clashing mail, and all the Greeks beheld His fall with grief.’ The friend of Achilles was wounded to death. In his triumph Hector was merciless. He mocked at his fallen foe, saying, ‘Patroclus, surely thou saidst that thou wouldst sack my town, and from Trojan women take away the day of freedom, and bring them in ships to thine own dear country. Fool, ... I ward from them the day of destiny, but thee shall vultures here destroy.’ Faint though he was, Patroclus answered, ‘It was not thou, Hector, who didst slay me, but Apollo, who snatched from me my shield and brake my sword in twain.’ Then his strength failed and he breathed his last.