τὴνδ' αὖτε προσέειπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
Φοῖνιξ ἄττα γεραιὲ παλαιγενές: εἰ γὰρ Ἀθήνη
δοίη κάρτος ἐμοί βελέων δ' ἀπερύκοι ἐρωήν.
τῷ κεν ἔγωγ' ἐθέλοιμι παρεστάμεναι καὶ ἀμύνειν
Πατρόκλῳ: μάλα γάρ με θανὼν ἐπεβάσσατο θυμόν.
ἀλλ' Ἕκτωρ πυρὸς αἰνὸν ἔχει μένος οὐδ' ἀπολήγει
χαλκῷ δηϊόων: τῷ γὰρ Ζεύς κῦδος ὀπάζει:
Then Menelaus, good at the war-cry, answered her: "Phoenix, old sire, my father of ancient days, would that Athene may give me strength and keep from me the onrush of darts. So should I be full fain to stand by Patroclus' side and succour him; for in sooth his death hath touched me to the heart. Howbeit, Hector hath the dread fury of fire, and ceaseth not to make havoc with the bronze; for it is to him that Zeus vouchsafeth glory."
