g horses, and wherever they went the ground was red
with the blood of the Trojans who were smitten down by his spear. Then
Sarpedon, the great chief of the Lykians, spake to Glaucus, and said,
"O friend, I must go forth and do battle with Patroclus. The people
fall beneath his sword, and it is not fit that the chieftains should
be backward in the strife." But the doom of Sarpedon was sealed, and
presently his body lay lifeless on the ground, while the men of Argos
and of Ilion fought for his glittering arms.

Then the doom came on Patroclus also, for Phoebus Apollo fought
against him in the battle, and in the dust was rolled the helmet which
no enemy had touched when it rested on the head of Achilles. Before
him flashed the spear of Hector, as he said, "The hour of thy death is
come, Patroclus, and the aid of Achilles can not reach thee now." But
Patroclus said only, "It is thy time for boasting now; wait yet a
little while, and the sword of Achilles shall drink thy life-blood."

So Patroclus died, and there was a fierce fight over his body, and
many fell on both sides, until there was a great heap of dead around
it. But away from the fight, the horses Xanthos and Balios wept for
their charioteer, and they would not stir with the chariot, but stood
fixed firm as pillars on the ground, till Zeus looked down in pity on
them, and said, "Was it for this that I gave you to Peleus, the
chieftain of Phthia--horses who can not grow old or die, to a mortal
man, the most wretched thing that crawls upon the earth? But fear not;
no enemy shall lay hands on the chariot of Achilles, or on the
immortal horses which bear it. Your limbs shall be filled with new
strength, and ye shall fly like birds across the battle-field till ye
come to the tent of your master." Then the horses wept no more, but
swift as eagles they bore Automedon through the fight, while Hector
and his people strove fiercely to seize them. At last the battle was
over, and, while the Achaians bore the body of Patroclus to the ships,
Antilochus, the son of Nestor, went to the tent of Achilles, and said,
"Thy friend is slain, and Hector has his armor."

Then the dark cloud of woe fell on the soul of Achilles. In a fierce
grief he threw earth with both hands into the air, and rent his
clothes, and lay down weeping in the dust. Far away in her coral caves
beneath the sea Thetis heard the deep groans of her child, and, like a
white mist, she rose from the waters and went