3059

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap18"></a>BOOK XVIII.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How Achilles grieved for Patroklos, and how Thetis asked for him new armour of
Hephaistos; and of the making of the armour.
</p>

<p>
Thus fought the rest in the likeness of blazing fire, while to Achilles came
Antilochos, a messenger fleet of foot. Him found he in front of his ships of
upright horns, boding in his soul the things which even now were accomplished.
And sore troubled he spake to his great heart: &ldquo;Ay me, wherefore again
are the flowing-haired Achaians flocking to the ships and flying in rout over
the plain? May the gods not have wrought against me the grievous fears at my
heart, even as my mother revealed and told me that while I am yet alive the
best man of the Myrmidons must by deed of the men of Troy forsake the light of
the sun. Surely now must Menoitios&rsquo; valiant son be dead—foolhardy! surely
I bade him when he should have beaten off the fire of the foe to come back to
the ships nor with Hector fight amain.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
While thus he held debate in his heart and soul, there drew nigh unto him noble
Nestor&rsquo;s son, shedding hot tears, and spake his grievous tidings:
&ldquo;Ay me, wise Peleus&rsquo; son, very bitter tidings must thou hear, such
as I would had never been. Fallen is Patroklos, and they are fighting around
his body, naked, for his armour is held by Hector of the glancing helm.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and a black cloud of grief enwrapped Achilles, and with both
hands he took dark dust and poured it over his head and defiled his comely
face, and on his fragrant doublet black ashes fell. And himself in the dust lay
mighty and mightily fallen, and with his own hands tore and marred his hair.
And the handmaidens, whom Achilles and Patroklos took captive, cried aloud in
the grief of their hearts, and ran forth around valiant Achilles, and all beat
on their breasts with their hands, and the knees of each of them were unstrung.
And Antilochos on the other side wailed and shed tears, holding Achilles&rsquo;
hands while he groaned in his noble heart, for he feared lest he should cleave
his throat with the sword. Then terribly moaned Achilles; and his lady mother
heard him as she sate in the depths of the sea beside her ancient sire. And
thereon she uttered a cry, and the goddesses flocked around her, all the
daughters of Nereus that were in the deep of the sea. With these the bright
cave was filled, and they all beat together on their breasts, and Thetis led
the lament: &ldquo;Listen, sister Nereids, that ye all hear and know well what
sorrows are in my heart. Ay me unhappy, ay me that bare to my sorrow the first
of men! For after I had borne a son noble and strong, the chief of heroes, and
he shot up like a young branch, then when I had reared him as a plant in a very
fruitful field I sent him in beaked ships to Ilios to fight against the men of
Troy; but never again shall I welcome him back to his home, to the house of
Peleus. And while he yet liveth in my sight and beholdeth the light of the sun,
he sorroweth, neither can I help him any whit though I go unto him. But I will
go, that I may look upon my dear child, and learn what sorrow hath come to him
though he abide aloof from the war.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she and left the cave; and the nymphs went with her weeping, and
around them the surge of the sea was sundered. And when they came to
deep-soiled Troy-land they went up upon the shore in order, where the ships of
the Myrmidons were drawn up thickly around fleet Achilles. And as he groaned
heavily his lady mother stood beside him, and with a shrill cry clasped the
bead of her child, and spake unto him winged words of lamentation: &ldquo;My
child, why weepest thou? what sorrow hath come to thy heart? Tell it forth,
hide it not. One thing at least hath been accomplished of Zeus according to the
prayer thou madest, holding up to him thy hands, that the sons of the Achaians
should all be pent in at the ships, through lack of thee, and should suffer
hateful things.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then groaning heavily spake unto her Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;My mother,
that prayer truly hath the Olympian accomplished for me. But what delight have
I therein, since my dear comrade is dead, Patroklos, whom I honoured above all
my comrades as it were my very self! Him have I lost, and Hector that slew him
hath stripped from him the armour great and fair, a wonder to behold, that the
gods gave to Peleus a splendid gift, on the day when they laid thee in the bed
of a mortal man. Would thou hadst abode among the deathless daughters of the
sea, and Peleus had wedded a mortal bride! But now, that thou mayest have
sorrow a thousand fold in thy heart for a dead son, never shalt thou welcome
him back home, since my soul biddeth me also live no longer nor abide among
men, if Hector be not first smitten by my spear and yield his life, and pay for
his slaughter of Patroklos, Menoitios&rsquo; son.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered unto him Thetis shedding tears: &ldquo;Short-lived, I ween, must
thou be then, my child, by what thou sayest, for straightway after Hector is
death appointed unto thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then mightily moved spake unto her Achilles fleet of foot: &ldquo;Straightway
may I die, since I might not succour my comrade at his slaying. He hath fallen
afar from his country and lacked my help in his sore need. Now therefore, since
I go not back to my dear native land, neither have at all been succour to
Patroklos nor to all my other comrades that have been slain by noble Hector,
but I sit beside my ships a profitless burden of the earth, I that in war am
such an one as is none else of the mail-clad Achaians, though in council are
others better—may strife perish utterly among gods and men, and wrath that
stirreth even a wise man to be vexed, wrath that far sweeter than trickling
honey waxeth like smoke in the breasts of men, even as I was wroth even now
against Agamemnon king of men. But bygones will we let be, for all our pain,
curbing the heart in our breasts under necessity. Now go I forth, that I may
light on the destroyer of him I loved, on Hector: then will I accept my death
whensoever Zeus willeth to accomplish it and the other immortal gods. For not
even the mighty Herakles escaped death, albeit most dear to Kronian Zeus the
king, but Fate overcame him and Hera&rsquo;s cruel wrath. So also shall I, if
my fate hath been fashioned likewise, lie low when I am dead. But now let me
win high renown, let me set some Trojan woman, some deep-bosomed daughter of
Dardanos, staunching with both hands the tears upon her tender cheeks and
wailing bitterly; yea, let them know that I am come back, though I tarried long
from the war. Hold not me then from the battle in thy love, for thou shalt not
prevail with me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then Thetis the silver-footed goddess answered him, saying: &ldquo;Yea verily,
my child, no blame is in this, that thou ward sheer destruction from thy
comrades in their distress. But thy fair glittering armour of bronze is held
among the Trojans. Hector of the glancing helm beareth it on his shoulders in
triumph, yet not for long, I ween, shall he glory therein, for death is hard
anigh him. But thou, go not yet down into the mellay of war until thou see me
with thine eyes come hither. In the morning will I return, at the coming up of
the sun, bearing fair armour from the king Hephaistos.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she and turned to go from her son, and as she turned she spake among
her sisters of the sea: &ldquo;Ye now go down within the wide bosom of the
deep, to visit the Ancient One of the Sea and our father&rsquo;s house, and
tell him all. I am going to high Olympus to Hephaistos of noble skill, if haply
he will give unto my son noble armour shining gloriously.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she, and they forthwith went down beneath the surge of the sea. And
the silver-footed goddess Thetis went on to Olympus that she might bring noble
armour to her son.
</p>

<p>
So her unto Olympus her feet bore. But the Achaians with terrible cries were
fleeing before man-slaying Hector till they came to the ships and to the
Hellespont. Nor might the well-greaved Achaians drag the corpse of Patroklos
Achilles&rsquo; squire out of the darts, for now again overtook him the host
and the horses of Troy, and Hector son of Priam, in might as it were a flame of
fire. Thrice did glorious Hector seize him from behind by the feet, resolved to
drag him away, and mightily called upon the men of Troy. Thrice did the two
Aiantes, clothed on with impetuous might, beat him off from the dead man, but
he nathless, trusting in his might, anon would charge into the press, anon
would stand and cry aloud, but he gave ground never a whit. As when shepherds
in the field avail nowise to chase a fiery lion in fierce hunger away from a
carcase, so availed not the two warrior Aiantes to scare Hector son of Priam
from the dead. And now would he have won the body and gained renown
unspeakable, had not fleet wind-footed Iris come speeding from Olympus with a
message to the son of Peleus to array him, unknown of Zeus and the other gods,
for Hera sent her. And she stood anigh and spake to him winged words:
&ldquo;Rouse thee, son of Peleus, of all men most redoubtable! Succour
Patroklos, for whose body is terrible battle afoot before the ships. There slay
they one another, these guarding the dead corpse, while the men of Troy are
fierce to hale him unto windy Ilios, and chiefliest noble Hector is fain to
drag him, and his heart biddeth him fix the head on the stakes of the wall when
he hath sundered it from the tender neck. But arise, lie thus no longer! let
awe enter thy heart to forbid that Patroklos become the sport of dogs of Troy.
Thine were the shame if he go down mangled amid the dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered her fleet-footed noble Achilles: &ldquo;Goddess Iris, what god
sent thee a messenger unto me?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him again spake wind-footed fleet Iris: &ldquo;It was Hera that sent me,
the wise wife of Zeus, nor knoweth the high-throned son of Kronos nor any other
of the Immortals that on snowy Olympus have their dwelling-place.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And Achilles fleet of foot made answer to her and said: &ldquo;And how may I go
into the fray? The Trojans hold my arms; and my dear mother bade me forbear to
array me until I behold her with my eyes returned, for she promised to bring
fair armour from Hephaistos. Other man know I none whose noble armour I might
put on, save it were the shield of Aias Telamol&rsquo;s son. But himself, I
ween, is in the forefront of the press, dealing death with his spear around
Patroklos dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then again spake unto him wind-footed fleet Iris: &ldquo;Well are we also aware
that thy noble armour is held from thee. But go forth unto the trench as thou
art and show thyself to the men of Troy, if haply they will shrink back and
refrain them from battle, and the warlike sons of the Achaians take
breath.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake fleet-footed Iris and went her way. But Achilles dear to Zeus arose,
and around his strong shoulders Athene cast her tasselled aegis, and around his
head the bright goddess set a crown of a golden cloud, and kindled therefrom a
blazing flame. And as when a smoke issueth from a city and riseth up into the
upper air, from an island afar off that foes beleaguer, while the others from
their city fight all day in hateful war,—but with the going down of the sun
blaze out the beacon-fires in line, and high aloft rusheth up the glare for
dwellers round about to behold, if haply they may come with ships to help in
need—thus from the head of Achilles soared that blaze toward the heavens. And
he went and stood beyond the wall beside the trench, yet mingled not among the
Achaians, for he minded the wise bidding of his mother. There stood he and
shouted aloud, and afar off Pallas Athene uttered her voice, and spread terror
unspeakable among the men of Troy. Clear as the voice of a clarion when it
soundeth by reason of slaughterous foemen that beleaguer a city, so clear rang
forth the voice of Aiakides. And when they heard the brazen voice of Aiakides,
the souls of all of them were dismayed, and the horses of goodly manes were
fain to turn the chariots backward, for they boded anguish in their hearts, And
the charioteers were amazed when they saw the unwearying fire blaze fierce on
the head of the great-hearted son of Peleus, for the bright-eyed goddess Athene
made it blaze. Thrice from over the trench shouted mightily noble Achilles, and
thrice were the men of Troy confounded and their proud allies. Yea there and
then perished twelve men of their best by their own chariot wheels and spears.
But the Achaians with joy drew Patroklos forth of the darts and laid him on a
litter, and his dear comrades stood around lamenting him; and among them
followed fleet-footed Achilles, shedding hot tears, for his true comrade he saw
lying on the bier, mangled by the keen bronze. Him sent he forth with chariot
and horses unto the battle, but home again welcomed never more.
</p>

<p>
Then Hera the ox-eyed queen sent down the unwearying Sun to be gone unwillingly
unto the streams of Ocean. So the Sun set, and the noble Achaians made pause
from the stress of battle and the hazardous war.
</p>

<p>
But the Achaians all night made moan in lamentation for Patroklos. And first of
them in the loud lamentation was the son of Peleus, laying upon the breast of
his comrade his man-slaying hands and moaning very sore, even as a deep-bearded
lion whose whelps some stag-hunter hath snatched away out of a deep wood; and
the lion coming afterward grieveth and through many glens he rangeth on the
track of the footsteps of the man, if anywhere he might find him, for most
bitter anger seizeth him;—thus Achilles moaning heavily spake among the
Myrmidons: &ldquo;Ay me, vain verily was the word I uttered on that day when I
cheered the hero Menoitios in his halls and said that I would bring back to
Opoeis his son in glory from the sack of Ilios with the share of spoil that
should fall unto him. Not all the purposes of men doth Zeus accomplish for
them. It is appointed that both of us redden the same earth with our blood here
in Troy-land, for neither shall the old knight Peleus welcome me back home
within his halls, nor my mother Thetis, but even here shall earth keep hold on
me. Yet now, O Patroklos, since I follow thee under earth, I will not hold thy
funeral till I have brought hither the armour and the head of Hector, thy
high-hearted slayer, and before thy pyre I will cut the throats of twelve noble
sons of the men of Troy, for mine anger thou art slain. Till then beside the
beaked ships shalt thou lie as thou art, and around thee deep-bosomed women,
Trojan and Dardanian, shall mourn thee weeping night and day, even they whom we
toiled to win by our strength and, our long spears when we sacked rich cities
of mortal men.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake noble Achilles, and bade his comrades set a great tripod on the
fire, that with all speed they might wash from Patroklos the bloody gore. So
they set a tripod of ablution on the burning fire, and poured therein water and
took wood and kindled it beneath; and the fire wrapped the belly of the tripod,
and the water grew hot. And when the water boiled in the bright bronze, then
washed they him and anointed with olive oil, and filled his wounds with fresh
ointment, and laid him on a bier and covered him with soft cloth from head to
foot, and thereover a white robe. Then all night around Achilles fleet of foot
the Myrmidons made lament and moan for Patroklos.
</p>

<p>
Meanwhile Zeus spake unto Hera his sister and wife: &ldquo;Thou hast
accomplished this, O Hera, ox-eyed queen, thou hast aroused Achilles fleet of
foot. Verily of thine own children must the flowing-haired Achaians be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered unto him Hera the ox-eyed queen: &ldquo;Most dread son of Kronos,
what is this word thou hast said? Truly even a man, I ween, is to accomplish
what he may for another man, albeit he is mortal and hath not wisdom as we. How
then was I who avow me the first of goddesses both by birth and for that I am
called thy wife, and thou art king among all Immortals—how was I not in mine
anger to devise evil against the men of Troy?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So debated they on this wise with one another. But Thetis of the silver feet
came unto the house of Hephaistos, imperishable, starlike, far seen among the
dwellings of Immortals, a house of bronze, wrought by the crook-footed god
himself. Him found she sweating in toil and busy about his bellows, for he was
forging tripods twenty in all to stand around the wall of his stablished hall,
and beneath the base of each he had set golden wheels, that of their own motion
they might enter the assembly of the gods and again return unto his house, a
marvel to look upon. Thus much were they finished that not yet were away from
the fire, and gathered all his gear wherewith he worked into a silver chest;
and with a sponge he wiped his face and hands and sturdy neck and shaggy
breast, and did on his doublet, and took a stout staff and went forth limping;
but there were handmaidens of gold that moved to help their lord, the
semblances of living maids. In them is understanding at their hearts, in them
are voice and strength, and they have skill of the immortal gods. These moved
beneath their lord, and he gat him haltingly near to where Thetis was, and set
him on a bright seat, and clasped her hand in his and spake and called her by
her name: &ldquo;Wherefore, long-robed Thetis, comest thou to our house,
honoured that thou art and dear? No frequent comer art thou hitherto. Speak
what thou hast at heart; my soul is fain to accomplish it; if accomplish it I
can, and if it be appointed for accomplishment.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered unto him Thetis shedding tears: &ldquo;Hephaistos, hath there
verily been any of all goddesses in Olympus that hath endured so many grievous
sorrows at heart as are the woes that Kronian Zeus hath laid upon me above all
others? He chose me from among the sisters of the sea to enthrall me to a man,
even Peleus Aiakos&rsquo; son, and with a man I endured wedlock sore against my
will. Now lieth he in his halls forspent with grievous age, but other griefs
are mine. A son he gave me to bear and nourish, the chief of heroes, and he
shot up like a young branch. Like a plant in a very fruitful field I reared him
and sent him forth on beaked ships to Ilios to fight against the men of Troy,
but never again shall I welcome him back to his home within the house of
Peleus. And while he yet liveth in my sight and beholdeth the light of the sun,
he sorroweth, neither can I help him any whit though I go unto him. The maiden
whom the sons of the Achaians chose out to be his prize, her hath the lord
Agamemnon taken back out of his hands. In grief for her wasted he his heart,
while the men of Troy were driving the Achaians on their ships, nor suffered
them to come forth. And the elders of the Argives entreated him, and told over
many noble gifts. Then albeit himself he refused to ward destruction from them,
he put his armour on Patroklos and sent him to the war, and much people with
him. All day they fought around the Skaian gates and that same day had sacked
the town, but that when now Menoitios&rsquo; valiant son had wrought much harm,
Apollo slew him in the forefront of the battle, and gave glory unto Hector.
Therefore now come I a suppliant unto thy knees, if haply thou be willing to
give my short-lived son shield and helmet, and goodly greaves fitted with
ankle-pieces, and cuirass. For the armour that he had erst, his trusty comrade
lost when he fell beneath the men of Troy; and my son lieth on the earth with
anguish in his soul.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then made answer unto her the lame god of great renown: &ldquo;Be of good
courage, let not these things trouble thy heart. Would that so might I avail to
hide him far from dolorous death, when dread fate cometh upon him, as surely
shall goodly armour be at his need, such as all men afterward shall marvel at,
whatsoever may behold.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus saying he left her there and went unto his bellows and turned them upon
the fire and bade them work. And the bellows, twenty in all, blew on the
crucibles, sending deft blasts on every side, now to aid his labour and now
anon howsoever Hephaistos willed and the work went on. And he threw bronze that
weareth not into the fire, and tin and precious gold and silver, and next he
set on an anvil-stand a great anvil, and took in his hand a sturdy hammer, and
in the other he took the tongs.
</p>

<p>
First fashioned he a shield great and strong, adorning it all over, and set
thereto a shining rim, triple, bright-glancing, and therefrom a silver baldric.
Five were the folds of the shield itself; and therein fashioned he much cunning
work from his wise heart.
</p>

<p>
There wrought he the earth, and the heavens, and the sea, and the unwearying
sun, and the moon waxing to the full, and the signs every one wherewith the
heavens are crowned, Pleiads and Hyads and Oriol&rsquo;s might, and the Bear
that men call also the Wain, her that turneth in her place and watcheth Orion,
and alone hath no part in the baths of Ocean.
</p>

<p>
Also he fashioned therein two fair cities of mortal men. In the one were
espousals and marriage feasts, and beneath the blaze of torches they were
leading the brides from their chambers through the city, and loud arose the
bridal song. And young men were whirling in the dance, and among them flutes
and viols sounded high; and women standing each at her door were marvelling.
But the folk were gathered in the assembly place; for there a strife was
arisen, two men striving about the blood-price of a man slain; the one claimed
to pay full atonement, expounding to the people, but the other denied him and
would take naught. And the folk were cheering both, as they took part on either
side. And heralds kept order among the folk, while the elders on polished
stones were sitting in the sacred circle, and holding in their hands staves
from the loud-voiced heralds. Then before the people they rose up and gave
judgment each in turn. And in the midst lay two talents of gold, to be given
unto him who should plead among them most righteously.
</p>

<p>
But around the other city were two armies in siege with glittering arms. And
two counsels found favour among them, either to sack the town or to share all
with the townsfolk even whatsoever substance the fair city held within. But the
besieged were not yet yielding, but arming for an ambushment. On the wall there
stood to guard it their dear wives and infant children, and with these the old
men; but the rest went forth, and their leaders were Ares and Pallas Athene,
both wrought in gold, and golden was the vesture they had on. Goodly and great
were they in their armour, even as gods, far seen around, and the folk at their
feet were smaller. And when they came where it seemed good to them to lay
ambush, in a river bed where there was a common watering-place of herds, there
they set them, clad in glittering bronze. And two scouts were posted by them
afar off to spy the coming of flocks and of oxen with crooked horns. And
presently came the cattle, and with them two herdsmen playing on pipes, that
took no thought of the guile. Then the others when they beheld these ran upon
them and quickly cut off the herds of oxen and fair flocks of white sheep, and
slew the shepherds withal. But the besiegers, as they sat before the
speech-places [from which the orators spoke] and heard much din among the oxen,
mounted forthwith behind their high-stepping horses, and came up with speed.
Then they arrayed their battle and fought beside the river banks, and smote one
another with bronze-shod spears. And among them mingled Strife and Tumult, and
fell Death, grasping one man alive fresh-wounded, another without wound, and
dragging another dead through the mellay by the feet; and the raiment on her
shoulders was red with the blood of men. Like living mortals they hurled
together and fought, and haled the corpses each of the other&rsquo;s slain.
</p>

<p>
Furthermore he set in the shield a soft fresh-ploughed field, rich tilth and
wide, the third time ploughed; and many ploughers therein drave their yokes to
and fro as they wheeled about. Whensoever they came to the boundary of the
field and turned, then would a man come to each and give into his hands a
goblet of sweet wine, while others would be turning back along the furrows,
fain to reach the boundary of the deep tilth. And the field grew black behind
and seemed as it were a-ploughing, albeit of gold, for this was the great
marvel of the work.
</p>

<p>
Furthermore he set therein the demesne-land of a king, where hinds were reaping
with sharp sickles in their hands. Some armfuls along the swathe were falling
in rows to the earth, whilst others the sheaf-binders were binding in twisted
bands of straw. Three sheaf-binders stood over them, while behind boys
gathering corn and bearing it in their arms gave it constantly to the binders;
and among them the king in silence was standing at the swathe with his staff,
rejoicing in his heart. And henchmen apart beneath an oak were making ready a
feast, and preparing a great ox they had sacrificed; while the women were
strewing much white barley to be a supper for the hinds.
</p>

<p>
Also he set therein a vineyard teeming plenteously with clusters, wrought fair
in gold; black were the grapes, but the vines hung throughout on silver poles.
And around it he ran a ditch of cyanus, and round that a fence of tin; and one
single pathway led to it, whereby the vintagers might go when they should
gather the vintage. And maidens and striplings in childish glee bare the sweet
fruit in plaited baskets. And in the midst of them a boy made pleasant music on
a clear-toned viol, and sang thereto a sweet Linos-song [probably a lament for
departing summer] with delicate voice; while the rest with feet falling
together kept time with the music and song.
</p>

<p>
Also he wrought therein a herd of kine with upright horns, and the kine were
fashioned of gold and tin, and with lowing they hurried from the byre to
pasture beside a murmuring river, beside the waving reed. And herdsmen of gold
were following with the kine, four of them, and nine dogs fleet of foot came
after them. But two terrible lions among the foremost kine had seized a
loud-roaring bull that bellowed mightily as they haled him, and the dogs and
the young men sped after him. The lions rending the great bull&rsquo;s hide
were devouring his vitals and his black blood; while the herdsmen in vain
tarred on their fleet dogs to set on, for they shrank from biting the lions but
stood hard by and barked and swerved away.
</p>

<p>
Also the glorious lame god wrought therein a pasture in a fair glen, a great
pasture of white sheep, and a steading, and roofed huts, and folds.
</p>

<p>
Also did the glorious lame god devise a dancing-place like unto that which once
in wide Knosos Daidalos wrought for Ariadne of the lovely tresses. There were
youths dancing and maidens of costly wooing, their hands upon one
another&rsquo;s wrists. Fine linen the maidens had on, and the youths
well-woven doublets faintly glistening with oil. Fair wreaths had the maidens,
and the youths daggers of gold hanging from silver baldrics. And now would they
run round with deft feet exceeding lightly, as when a potter sitting by his
wheel that fitteth between his hands maketh trial of it whether it run: and now
anon they would run in lines to meet each other. And a great company stood
round the lovely dance in joy; and through the midst of them, leading the
measure, two tumblers whirled.
</p>

<p>
Also he set therein the great might of the River of Ocean around the uttermost
rim of the cunningly-fashioned shield.
</p>

<p>
Now when he had wrought the shield great and strong, then wrought he him a
corslet brighter than a flame of fire, and he wrought him a massive helmet to
fit his brows, goodly and graven, and set thereon a crest of gold, and he
wrought him greaves of pliant tin.
</p>

<p>
So when the renowned lame god had finished all the armour, he took and laid it
before the mother of Achilles. Then she like a falcon sprang down from snowy
Olympus, bearing from Hephaistos the glittering arms.
</p>

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