Two others formed the base. Another hand Could scarce have raised that beaker from its place, But Nestor lifted it with ease. The maid, Fair as a goddess, mingled Pramnian wine, And grated o’er it, with a rasp of brass, A goat’s-milk cheese, and, sprinkling the white flour Upon it, bade them drink. With this they quenched Their parching thirst, and then amused the time With pleasant talk. Patroclus to the door Meantime, a godlike presence, came, and stood. The old man, as he saw him, instantly Rose from his princely seat and seized his hand, And led him in and bade him sit; but he Refused the proffered courtesy, and said:⁠—

“Nay, ’tis no time to sit: persuade me not, Nursling of Jove; for he is to be feared, And prone to wrath, who sent me to inquire What wounded man is with thee; but I know⁠— Now that I see Machaon sitting here, The shepherd of the people. I must haste Back to Achilles, bearing my report. Thou knowest, ancient chief, how quick he is To take offence and blame the innocent.”