"Sprinting close to king Odysseus’ fleet

where the Argives (Greeks) met and handed down their laws,

the grounds where they built their altars to the gods,

there he met Eurypylus, Euaemon’s gallant son,

wounded, the arrow planted deep in his thigh,

and limping out of battle…

The sweat was streaming down his face and back

and the dark blood still flowed from his ugly wound

but the man’s will was firm, he never broke his stride.

And moved at the sight, the good man Patroclus

burst out in grief with a flight of winging words,

"Poor men, Lords of the Argives, O my captains!

How doomed you are, look–far from your loved ones

and native land–to glut with your shining fat

the wild dogs of battle here in Troy…

But come, tell me Eurypylus, royal fighter,

can the Achaeans, somehow, still hold monstrous Hector?–

or must they all die now, beaten down by his spear?"

Struggling with his wound, Eurypylus answered,

"No hope, Patroklus, Prince. No bulwark left.

They’ll all be hurled back to the black ships.

All of them, all our best in the old campaigns

are laid up in the hulls, they’re hit by arrows,

pierced by spears, brought down by Trojan hands

while the Trojans’ power keeps on rising, rising!

Save me at least. Take me back to my black ship.

Cut this shaft from my thigh. And the dark blood–

wash it out of the wound with clean warm water.

And spread the soothing, healing salves across it,

the powerful drugs that they say you learned from Achilles

and Chiron, most humane of Centaurs taught your friend…

The brave son of Menoetius (=Patroclus) answered quickly...

"…I won’t neglect you, even so, with such a wound."

And bracing the captain, arm around his waist,

he helped him towards his shelter. An aide saw them

and put some ox hides down. Patroclus stretched him out,

knelt with a knife and cut the sharp, stabbing arrow

out of Eurypylus’ thigh and washed the wound clean

of the dark running blood with clear warm water.

Pounding it in his palms, he crushed a bitter root

and covered over the gash to kill his comrade’s pain,

a cure that fought off every kind of pain…