As thus he spake, he threw the bloody spoils Into his chariot, mounting to the seat, His feet and hands all crimson with the blood, As when a lion has devoured an ox. Then round Patroclus raged the strife again, Murderous and sad to see; for Pallas there Inflamed the strife, sent down from heaven by Jove, To rouse the courage of the Greeks, since such Was now his will. As when the god displays To men a purple rainbow in the skies, A sign of war or of a bitter storm, Which drives the laborer from his task, and makes The cattle droop, so, in a purple cloud Concealed, she went among the Greeks, and filled Their hearts with valor. Taking first the form Of Phoenix, and his clear, unwearied voice, She spake in stirring words to Atreus’ son, The gallant Menelaus, standing near: “Shame and dishonor will it be to thee, O Menelaus, if, beneath the walls Of Troy, the hungry dogs should tear the corpse Of him who was in life the faithful friend Of great Achilles. Fight thou therefore on Bravely, and bid the other Greeks be brave.”