the slain. 
    My soul some portion of her grief resigns
  Consoled, although by slaughter of a worse,
  For loss of valiant Menoetiades. 650
    So saying, within his chariot he disposed
  The gory spoils, then mounted it himself
  With hands and feet purpled, as from a bull
  His bloody prey, some lion newly-gorged. 
    And now around Patroclus raged again 655
  Dread strife deplorable! for from the skies
  Descending at the Thunderer’s command
  Whose purpose now was to assist the Greeks,
  Pallas enhanced the fury of the fight. 
  As when from heaven, in view of mortals, Jove 660
  Exhibits bright his bow, a sign ordain’d
  Of war, or numbing frost which all the works
  Suspends of man and saddens all the flocks;
  So she, all mantled with a radiant cloud
  Entering Achaia’s host, fired every breast. 665
  But meeting Menelaus first, brave son
  Of Atreus, in the form and with the voice
  Robust of Phoenix, him she thus bespake. 
    Shame, Menelaus, shall to thee redound
  For ever, and reproach, should dogs devour 670
  The faithful friend of Peleus’ noble son
  Under Troy’s battlements; but stand, thyself,
  Undaunted, and encourage all the host. 
    To whom the son of Atreus bold in arms. 
  Ah, Phoenix, friend revered, ancient and sage! 675
  Would Pallas give me might and from the dint
  Shield me of dart and spear, with willing mind
  I would defend Patroclus, for his death
  Hath touch’d me deep.  But Hector with the rage
  Burns of consuming fire, nor to his spear 680
  Gives pause, for him Jove leads to victory. 
    He ceased, whom Pallas, Goddess azure-eyed
  Hearing, rejoiced that of the heavenly powers
  He had invoked her foremost to his aid. 
  His shoulders with new might, and limbs she fill’d, 685
  And persevering boldness to his breast
  Imparted, such as prompts the fly, which oft
  From flesh of man repulsed, her purpose yet
  To bite holds fast, resolved on human blood. 
  His stormy bosom with such courage fill’d 690
  By Pallas, to Patroclus he approach’d
  And hurl’d, incontinent, his glittering spear. 
  There was a Trojan Chief, Podes by name,
  Son of Eetion, valorous and rich;
  Of all Troy’s citizens him Hector most 695
  Respected, in convivial pleasures sweet
  His chosen companion.  As he sprang to flight,
  The hero of the golden locks his belt
  Struck with full force and sent the weapon through. 
  Sounding he fell, and from the Trojan ranks 700
  Atrides dragg’d the body to his own. 
  Then drew Apollo near to Hector’s side,
  And in the form of Phoenops, Asius’