im.
Down his back ran the copious sweat from his shoulders and head, and
from the grievous wound oozed the black blood; nevertheless his mind was
firm. Seeing him, the gallant son of Menoetius pitied him, and, grieving,
spoke winged words:

"Alas! unhappy men, leaders and rulers over the Greeks, are ye then thus
destined, far away from your friends and native land, to satiate the
swift dogs at Troy with your white fat? But come, tell me this, O
Jove-nurtured hero, Eurypylus, will the Greeks still at all sustain
mighty Hector, or will they now be destroyed, subdued by his spear?"

But him prudent Eurypylus in turn addressed: "No longer, Jove-nurtured
Patroclus, will there be aid for the Greeks, but they will fall back
upon the black ships. For already all, as many as were once bravest, lie
at the ships, stricken or wounded by the hands of the Trojans, whose
strength ever increases. But do thou now, indeed, save me, leading me to
my black ship; and cut out the arrow from my thigh, and wash the black
blood[389] from it with warm water; then sprinkle upon it mild drugs,
salubrious, which they say thou wert taught by Achilles, whom Chiron
instructed, the most just of the Centaurs. For the physicians,
Podalirius and Machaon, the one, I think, having a wound, lies at the
tents, and himself in want of a faultless physician, and the other
awaits the sharp battle of the Trojans upon the plain."

[Footnote 389: Cf. Virg. AEn. x. 834: "Vulnera siccabat lymphis."
The manner in which this was done is described by Celsus, v. 26:
"Si profusionem timemus, siccis lineamentis vulnus implendum est,
supraque imponenda gpongia ex aqua frigida expressa, ac manu
super comprimenda." Cf. Athen. ii. 4.]

But him again the brave son of Menoetius addressed: "How then will these
things turn out? What shall we do, O hero Eurypylus? I go that I may
deliver a message to warlike Achilles, with which venerable Nestor,
guardian of the Greeks, has intrusted me: but even thus I cannot neglect
thee, afflicted."

He said, and having laid hold of the shepherd of the people under his
breast, bore him to the tent, and his attendant, when he saw him, spread
under him bulls' hides. There [Patroclus] laying him at length, cut out
with a knife the bitter, sharp arrow from his thigh, and washed the
black blood from it with warm water. Then he applied a bitter,
pain-assuaging root, rubbing it in his hands, which checked all his
pangs: the wound, i