And thus rejoined Achilles, swift of foot:— “Son of Menoetius, nobly born, and well Beloved by me, the Greeks, I deem, will soon Be at my knees, imploring aid; for now A hard necessity besets their host. But go, Patroclus, dear to Jove, and ask Of Nestor who it is that he hath brought Thus wounded from the field. Seen from behind, His form was like Machaon—wholly like That son of Aesculapius; but the face I saw not, as the rapid steeds flew by.”
He spake. Patroclus hearkened to his friend, And hastened to the Grecian tents and ships.
Now when they reached the tent of Neleus’ son, The warriors in the chariot set their feet Upon the nourishing earth. Eurymedon, The old man’s charioteer, took from the mares Their harness; while the chieftains cooled themselves, And dried their sweaty garments in the breeze, Facing the border of the sea, and then, Entering the tent of Nestor, sat them down On couches. Hecamede, bright of hair, Prepared for them a mingled draught; the maid, A daughter of the great Arsinoüs, came From Tenedos with Nestor, when the town Was ravaged by Achilles, and the Greeks