So fought they like unto blazing fire, but Antilochus, swift of foot, came to bear tidings to Achilles. Him he found in front of his ships with upright horns,1
boding in his heart the thing that even now was brought to pass;
and sore troubled he spake unto his own great-hearted spirit: “Ah, woe is me, how is it that again the long-haired Achaeans are being driven toward the ships in rout over the plain? Let it not be that the gods have brought to pass grievous woes for my soul, even as on a time my mother declared unto me, and said that
while yet I lived the best man of the Myrmidons should leave the light of the sun beneath the hands of the Trojans! in good sooth the valiant son of Menoetius must now, be dead, foolhardy one. Surely I bade him come back again to the ships when he had thrust off the consuming fire, and not to fight amain with Hector.”
While he pondered thus in mind and heart, there drew nigh unto him the son of lordly Nestor, shedding hot tears, and spake the grievous tidings: “Woe is me, thou son of wise-hearted Peleus, full grievous is the tidings thou must hear, such as I would had never been.
Low lies Patroclus, and around his corpse are they fighting—his naked corpse; but his armour is held by Hector of the flashing helm.”