3059

<div class="chapter">

<h2><a name="chap24"></a>BOOK XXIV.</h2>

<p class="letter">
How the body of Hector was ransomed, and of his funeral.
</p>

<p>
Then the assembly was broken up, and the tribes were scattered to betake them
each to their own swift ships. The rest bethought them of supper and sweet
sleep to have joy thereof; but Achilles wept, remembering his dear comrade, nor
did sleep that conquereth all take hold on him, but he kept turning him to this
side and to that, yearning for Patroklos&rsquo; manhood and excellent valour,
and all the toils he achieved with him and the woes he bare, cleaving the
battles of men and the grievous waves. As he thought thereon be shed big tears,
now lying on his side, now on his back, now on his face; and then anon he would
arise upon his feet and roam wildly beside the beach of the salt sea. Nor would
he be unaware of the Dawn when she arose over the sea and shores. But when he
had yoked the swift steeds to his car he would bind Hector behind his chariot
to drag him withal; and having thrice drawn him round the barrow of the dead
son of Menoitios he rested again in his hut, and left Hector lying stretched on
his face in the dust. But Apollo kept away all defacement from his flesh, for
he had pity on him even in death, and covered him all with his golden aegis,
that Achilles might not tear him when he dragged him.
</p>

<p>
Thus Achilles in his anger entreated noble Hector shamefully; but the blessed
gods when they beheld him pitied him, and urged the clear-sighted slayer of
Argus to steal the corpse away. So to all the others seemed it good, yet not to
Hera or Poseidon or the bright-eyed Maiden, but they continued as when at the
beginning sacred Ilios became hateful to them, and Priam and his people, by
reason of the sin of Alexandros in that he contemned those goddesses when they
came to his steading, and preferred her who brought him deadly lustfulness. But
when the twelfth morn from that day arose, then spake among the Immortals
Phoebus Apollo: &ldquo;Hard of heart are ye, O gods, and cruel Hath Hector
never burnt for you thigh-bones of unblemished bulls and goats? Now have ye not
taken heart to rescue even his corpse for his wife to look upon and his mother
and his child and his father Priam and his people, who speedily would burn him
in the fire and make his funeral. But fell Achilles, O gods, ye are fain to
abet, whose mind is nowise just nor the purpose in his breast to be turned
away, but he is cruelly minded as a lion that in great strength and at the
bidding of his proud heart goeth forth against mel&rsquo;s flocks to make his
meal; even thus Achilles hath cast out pity, neither hath he shame, that doth
both harm and profit men greatly. It must be that many a man lose even some
dearer one than was this, a brother of the same womb born or perchance a son;
yet bringeth he his wailing and lamentation to an end, for an enduring soul
have the Fates given unto men. But Achilles after bereaving noble Hector of his
life bindeth him behind his horses and draggeth him around the tomb of his dear
comrade: not, verily, is that more honourable or better for him. Let him take
heed lest we wax wroth with him, good man though he be, for in his fury he is
entreating shamefully the senseless clay.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then in anger spake unto him white-armed Hera: &ldquo;Even thus mightest thou
speak, O Lord of the silver bow, if ye are to give equal honour to Achilles and
to Hector. Hector is but a mortal and was suckled at a womal&rsquo;s breast,
but Achilles is child of a goddess whom I myself bred up and reared and gave to
a man to be his wife, even to Peleus who was dearest of all men to the
Immortals&rsquo; heart. And all ye gods came to her bridal, and thou among them
wert feasting with thy lyre, O lover of ill company, faithless ever.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to her in answer spake Zeus who gathereth the clouds: &ldquo;Hera, be not
wroth utterly with the gods: for these mel&rsquo;s honour is not to be the
same, yet Hector also was dearest to the gods of all mortals that are in Ilios.
So was he to me at least, for nowise failed he in the gifts I loved. Never did
my altar lack seemly feast, drink-offering and the steam of sacrifice, even the
honour that falleth to our due. But verily we will say no more of stealing away
brave Hector, for it cannot be hidden from Achilles, for his mother abideth
ever nigh to him night and day. But I were fain that some one of the gods would
call Thetis to come near to me, that I may speak unto her a wise word, so that
Achilles may take gifts from Priam and give Hector back.&rdquo; Thus spake he,
and airy-footed Iris sped forth upon the errand and between Samothrace and
rocky Imbros leapt into the black sea, and the waters closed above her with a
noise. And she sped to the bottom like a weight of lead that mounted on horn of
a field-ox goeth down bearing death to ravenous fishes. And she found Thetis in
a hollow cave; about her sat gathered other goddesses of the seas and she in
their midst was wailing for the fate of her noble son who must perish in
deep-soiled Troy, far from his native land. And standing near, fleet-footed
Iris spake to her: &ldquo;Rise, Thetis; Zeus of immortal counsels calleth
thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to her made answer Thetis the silver-footed goddess: &ldquo;Wherefore
biddeth me that mighty god? I shrink from mingling among the Immortals, for I
have countless woes at heart. Yet go I, nor shall his word be in vain,
whatsoever he saith.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus having said the noble goddess took to her a dark-hued robe, no blacker
raiment was there found than that. Then she went forth, and wind-footed swift
Iris led the way before her, and around them the surge of the sea was sundered.
And when they had come forth upon the shore they sped up to heaven, and found
the far-seeing son of Kronos, and round him sat gathered all the other blessed
gods that are for ever. Then she sat down beside father Zeus, and Athene gave
her place. And Hera set a fair golden cup in her hand and cheered her with
words, and Thetis drank, and gave back the cup. Then began speech to them the
father of gods and men: &ldquo;Thou art come to Olympus, divine Thetis, in thy
sorrow, with violent grief at thy heart; I know it of myself. Nevertheless will
I tell thee wherefore I called thee hither. Nine days hath dispute arisen among
the Immortals concerning the corpse of Hector and Achilles waster of cities.
Fain are they to send clear-sighted Hermes to steal the body away, but now hear
what glory I accord herein to Achilles, that I may keep through times to come
thy honour and good will. Go with all speed to the host and bear to thy son my
bidding. Say to him that the gods are displeased at him, and that I above all
Immortals am wroth, because with furious heart be holdeth Hector at the beaked
ships and hath not given him back, if haply he may fear me and give Hector
back. But I will send Iris to great-hearted Priam to bid him go to the ships of
the Achaians to ransom his dear son, and carry gifts to Achilles that may
gladden his heart.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and Thetis the silver-footed goddess was not disobedient to his
word, and sped darting upon her way down from the peaks of Olympus. And she
came to her sol&rsquo;s hut; there found she him making grievous moan, and his
dear comrades round were swiftly making ready and furnishing their early meal,
and a sheep great and fleecy was being sacrificed in the hut. Then his
lady-mother sate her down close beside him, and stroked him with her hand and
spake to him by his name: &ldquo;My child, how long with lamentation and woe
wilt thou devour thine heart, taking thought of neither food nor rest? good
were even a womal&rsquo;s embrace, for not long shalt thou be left alive to me;
already death and forceful fate are standing nigh thee. But hearken forthwith
unto me, for I am the messenger of Zeus to thee. He saith that the gods are
displeased at thee, and that himself above all Immortals is wroth, because with
furious heart thou holdest Hector at the beaked ships and hast not given him
back. But come restore him, and take ransom for the dead.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to her in answer spake fleet-footed Achilles: &ldquo;So be it: whoso
bringeth ransom let him take back the dead, if verily with heart&rsquo;s intent
the Olympian biddeth it himself.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
So they in the assembly of the ships, mother and son, spake to each other many
winged words. But the son of Kronos thus bade Iris go to holy Ilios: &ldquo;Go
forth, fleet Iris, leave the abode of Olympus and bear my message within Ilios
to great-hearted Priam that he go to the ships of the Achaians and ransom his
dear son and carry gifts to Achilles that may gladden his heart; let him go
alone, and no other man of the Trojans go with him. Only let some elder herald
attend on him to guide the mules and smooth-wheeled waggon and carry back to
the city the dead man whom noble Achilles slew. Let not death be in his thought
nor any fear; such guide will we give unto him, even the slyer of Argus who
shall lead him until his leading bring him to Achilles. And when he shall have
led him within the hut, neither shall Achilles himself slay him nor suffer any
other herein, for not senseless is he or unforeseeing or wicked, but with all
courtesy he will spare a suppliant man.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and airy-footed Iris sped forth upon the errand. And she came to
the house of Priam, and found therein crying and moan. His children sitting
around their father within the court were bedewing their raiment with their
tears, and the old man in their midst was close wrapped all over in his cloak;
and on his head and neck was much mire that he had gathered in his hands as he
grovelled upon the earth. And his daughters and his sons&rsquo; wives were
wailing throughout the house, bethinking them of all those valiant men who had
lost their lives at the hands of the Argives and were lying low. And the
messenger of Zeus stood beside Priam and spake softly unto him, and trembling
came upon his limbs: &ldquo;Be of good cheer in thy heart, O Priam son of
Dardanos, and be not dismayed for anything, for no evil come I hither to
forebode to thee, but with good will. I am the messenger of Zeus to thee, who,
though he be afar off, hath great care and pity for thee. The Olympian biddeth
thee ransom noble Hector and carry gifts to Achilles that may gladden his
heart: go thou alone, let none other of the Trojans go with thee. Only let some
elder herald attend on thee to guide the mules and the smooth-wheeled waggon to
carry back to the city the dead man whom noble Achilles slew. Let not death be
in thy thought, nor any fear; such guide shall go with thee, even the slayer of
Argus, who shall lead thee until his leading bring thee to Achilles. And when
he shall have led thee into the hut, neither shall Achilles himself slay thee,
nor suffer any other herein, for not senseless is he or unforeseeing or wicked,
but with all courtesy he will spare a suppliant man.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus having spoken fleet Iris departed from him; and he bade his sons make
ready the smooth-wheeled mule waggon, and bind the wicker carriage thereon. And
himself he went down to his fragrant chamber, of cedar wood, high-roofed, that
held full many jewels: and to Hekabe his wife he called and spake: &ldquo;Lady,
from Zeus hath an Olympian messenger come to me, that I go to the ships of the
Achaians and ransom my dear son, and carry gifts to Achilles that may gladden
his heart. Come tell me how seemeth it to thy mind, for of myself at least my
desire and heart bid me mightily to go thither to the ships and enter the wide
camp of the Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, but his wife lamented aloud and made answer to him: &ldquo;Woe
is me, whither is gone thy mind whereby aforetime thou wert famous among
stranger men and among them thou rulest? How art thou fain to go alone to the
ships of the Achaians, to meet the eyes of the man who hath slain full many of
thy brave sons? of iron verily is thy heart. For if he light on thee and behold
thee with his eyes, a savage and ill-trusted man is this, and he will not pity
thee, neither reverence thee at all. Nay, now let us sit in the hall and make
lament afar off. Even thus did forceful Fate erst spin for Hector with her
thread at his beginning when I bare him, even I, that he should glut
fleet-footed dogs, far from his parents, in the dwelling of a violent man whose
inmost vitals I were fain to fasten and feed upon; then would his deeds against
my son be paid again to him, for not playing the coward was he slain of him,
but championing the men and deep-bosomed women of Troy, neither bethought he
him of shelter or of flight.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
The to her in answer spake the old man godlike Priam: &ldquo;Stay me not, for I
am fain to go, neither be thyself a bird of ill boding in my halls, for thou
wilt not change my mind. Were it some other and a child of earth that bade me
this, whether some seer or of the priests that divine from sacrifice, then
would we declare it false and have no part therein; but now, since I have heard
the voice of the goddess myself and looked upon her face, I will go forth, and
her word shall not be void. And if it be my fate to die by the ships of the
mail-clad Achaians, so would I have it; let Achilles slay me with all speed,
when once I have taken in my arms my son, and have satisfied my desire with
moan.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He spake, and opened fair lids of chests wherefrom he chose twelve very goodly
womel&rsquo;s robes and twelve cloaks of single fold and of coverlets a like
number and of fair sheets, and of doublets thereupon. And he weighed and
brought forth talents of gold ten in all, and two shining tripods and four
caldrons, and a goblet exceeding fair that men of Thrace had given him when he
went thither on an embassy, a chattel of great price, yet not that even did the
old man grudge from his halls, for he was exceeding fain at heart to ransom his
dear son. Then he drave out all the Trojans from the colonnade, chiding them
with words of rebuke: &ldquo;Begone, ye that dishonour and do me shame! Have ye
no mourning of your own at home that ye come to vex me here? Think ye it a
small thing that Zeus Kronos&rsquo; son hath given me this sorrow, to lose him
that was the best man of my sons? Nay, but ye too shall feel it, for easier far
shall ye be to the Achaians to slay now he is dead. But for me, ere I behold
with mine eyes the city sacked and wasted, let me go down into the house of
Hades.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and with his staff chased forth the men, and they went forth before
the old man in his haste. Then he called unto his sons, chiding Helenos and
Paris and noble Agathon and Pammon and Antiphonos, and Polites of the loud
war-cry, and Deiphobos and Hippothoos and proud Dios; nine were they whom the
old man called and bade unto him: &ldquo;Haste ye, ill sons, my shame; would
that ye all in Hector&rsquo;s stead had been slain at the swift ships! Woe is
me all unblest, since I begat sons the best men in wide Troy-land, but none of
them is left for me to claim, neither godlike Mestor, nor Troilos with his
chariot of war, nor Hector who was a god among men, neither seemed he as the
son of a mortal man but of a god:—all these hath Ares slain, and here are my
shames all left to me, false-tongued, light-heeled, the heroes of dance,
plunderers of your own people&rsquo;s sheep and kids. Will ye not make me ready
a wain with all speed, and lay all these thereon, that we get us forward on our
way?&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they fearing their father&rsquo;s voice brought forth the
smooth-running mule chariot, fair and new, and bound the body thereof on the
frame; and from its peg they took down the mule yoke, a boxwood yoke with knob
well fitted with guiding-rings; and they brought forth the yoke-band of nine
cubits with the yoke. The yoke they set firmly on the polished pole on the rest
at the end thereof, and slipped the ring over the upright pin, which with three
turns of the band they lashed to the knob, and then belayed it close round the
pole and turned the tongue thereunder. Then they brought from the chamber and
heaped on the polished wain the countless ransom of Hector&rsquo;s head, and
yoked strong-hooved harness mules, which on a time the Mysians gave to Priam, a
splendid gift. But to Priam&rsquo;s car they yoked the horses that the old man
kept for his use and reared at the polished crib.
</p>

<p>
Thus in the high palace were Priam and the herald letting yoke their cars, with
wise thoughts at their hearts, when nigh came Hekabe sore at heart, with
honey-sweet wine in her right hand in a golden cup that they might make
libation ere they went. And she stood before the horses and spake a word to
Priam by name: &ldquo;Lo now make libation to father Zeus and pray that thou
mayest come back home from among the enemy, since thy heart speedeth thee forth
to the ships, though fain were I thou wentest not. And next pray to Kronion of
the Storm-cloud, the gods of Ida, that beholdeth all Troy-land beneath, and ask
of him a bird of omen, even the swift messenger that is dearest of all birds to
him and of mightiest strength, to appear upon thy right, that seeing the sign
with thine own eyes thou mayest go in trust thereto unto the ships of the
fleet-horsed Danaans. But if far-seeing Zeus shall not grant unto thee his
messenger, I at least shall not bid thee on to go among the ships of the
Achaians how fain soever thou mayest be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then answered and spake unto her godlike Priam: &ldquo;Lady, I will not
disregard this hest of thine, for good it is to lift up hands to Zeus, if haply
he will have pity.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the old man, and bade a house-dame that served him pour pure water
on his hands; and she came near to serve him with water in a ewer to wash
withal. And when he had washed his hands he took a goblet from his wife: then
he stood in the midst of the court and prayed and poured forth wine as he
looked up to heaven, and spake a word aloud: &ldquo;Father Zeus that bearest
sway from Ida, most glorious and most great, grant that I find welcome and pity
under Achilles&rsquo; roof, and send a bird of omen, even the swift messenger
that is dearest of all birds to thee and of mightiest strength, to appear upon
the right, that seeing this sign with mine eyes I may go trusting therein unto
the ships of the fleet-horsed Danaans.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he praying, and Zeus of wise counsels hearkened unto him, and
straightway sent forth an eagle, surest omen of winged birds, the dusky hunter
called of men the Black Eagle. Wide as the door, well locking, fitted close, of
some rich mal&rsquo;s high-roofed hall, so wide were his wings either way; and
he appeared to them speeding on the right hand above the city. And when they
saw the eagle they rejoiced and all their hearts were glad within their
breasts.
</p>

<p>
Then the old man made haste to go up into his car, and drave forth from the
doorway and the echoing portico. In front the mules drew the four-wheeled wain,
and wise Idaios drave them; behind came the horses which the old man urged with
the lash at speed along the city: and his friends all followed lamenting loud
as though he were faring to his death. And when they were come down from the
city and were now on the plain, then went back again to Ilios his sons and
marriage kin. But the two coming forth upon the plain were not unbeheld of
far-seeing Zeus. But he looked upon the old man and had compassion on him, and
straightway spake unto Hermes his dear son: &ldquo;Hermes, since unto thee
especially is it dear to companion men, and thou hearest whomsoever thou wilt,
go forth and so guide Priam to the hollow ships of the Achaians that no man
behold or be aware of him, among all the Danaans&rsquo; host, until he come to
the son of Peleus.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the Messenger, the slayer of Argus, was not disobedient unto
his word. Straightway beneath his feet he bound on his fair sandals, golden,
divine, that bare him over wet sea and over the boundless land with the
breathings of the wind. And he took up his wand wherewith he entranceth the
eyes of such men as he will, and others he likewise waketh out of sleep: this
did the strong slayer of Argus take in his hand, and flew. And quickly came he
to Troy-land and the Hellespont, and went on his way in semblance as a young
man that is a prince, with the new down on his chin, as when the youth of men
is the comeliest.
</p>

<p>
Now the others, when they had driven beyond the great barrow of Ilios, halted
the mules and horses at the river to drink; for darkness was come down over the
earth. Then the herald beheld Hermes from hard by, and marked him, and spake
and said to Priam: &ldquo;Consider, son of Dardanos; this is matter of prudent
thought. I see a man, methinks we shall full soon be rent in pieces. Come, let
us flee in our chariot, or else at least touch his knees and entreat him that
he have mercy on us.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the old man was confounded, and he was dismayed exceedingly,
and the hair on his pliant limbs stood up, and he stood still amazed. But the
Helper came nigh of himself and took the old mal&rsquo;s hand, and spake and
questioned him: &ldquo;Whither, father, dost thou thus guide these horses and
mules through the divine night, when other mortals are asleep? Hadst thou no
fear of the fierce-breathing Achaians, thy bitter foes that are hard anigh
thee? If one of them should espy thee carrying such treasures through the swift
black night, what then would be thy thought? Neither art thou young thyself,
and thy companion here is old, that ye should make defence against a man that
should assail thee first. But I will no wise harm thee, yea I will keep any
other from thy hurt: for the similitude of my dear father I see in thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him in answer spake the old man, godlike Priam: &ldquo;Even so, kind
son, are all these things as thou sayest. Nevertheless hath some god stretched
forth his hand even over me in that he hath sent a wayfarer such as thou to
meet me, a bearer of good luck, by the nobleness of thy form and semblance; and
thou art wise of heart and of blessed parents art thou sprung.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him again spake the Messenger, the slayer of Argus: &ldquo;All this, old
sire, hast thou verily spoken aright. But come say this and tell me truly
whether thou art taking forth a great and goodly treasure unto alien men, where
it may abide for thee in safety, or whether by this ye are all forsaking holy
Ilios in fear; so far the best man among you hath perished, even thy son; for
of battle with the Achaians abated he never a jot.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him in answer spake the old man, godlike Priam, &ldquo;Who art thou,
noble sir, and of whom art born? For meetly hast thou spoken of the fate of my
hapless son.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And to him again spake the Messenger, the slayer of Argus: &ldquo;Thou art
proving me, old sire, in asking me of noble Hector. Him have I full oft seen
with mine eyes in glorious battle, and when at the ships he was slaying the
Argives he drave thither, piercing them with the keen bronze, and we stood
still and marvelled thereat, for Achilles suffered us not to fight, being wroth
against Atreus&rsquo; son. His squire am I, and came in the same well-wrought
ship. From the Myrmidons I come, and my father is Polyktor. Wealthy is he, and
an old man even as thou, and six other sons hath he, and I am his seventh. With
the others I cast lots, and it fell to me to fare hither with the host. And now
am I come from the ships to the plain, for at day-break the glancing-eyed
Achaians will set the battle in array around the town. For it chafeth them to
be sitting here, nor can the Achaian lords hold in their fury for the
fray.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And the old man, godlike Priam, answered him, saying: &ldquo;If verily thou art
a squire of Achilles Peleus&rsquo; son, come tell me all the truth, whether
still my son is by the ships, or whether ere now Achilles hath riven him limb
from limb and cast him to the dogs.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then to him again spake the Messenger the slayer of Argus: &ldquo;Old sire, not
yet have dogs or birds devoured him, but there lieth he still by
Achilles&rsquo; ship, even as he fell, among the huts, and the twelfth morn now
hath risen upon him, nor doth his flesh corrupt at all, neither worms consume
it, such as devour men slain in war. Truly Achilles draggeth him recklessly
around the barrow of his dear comrade so oft as divine day dawneth, yet marreth
he him not; thou wouldst marvel if thou couldst go see thyself how dewy fresh
he lieth, and is washed clean of blood, nor anywhere defiled; and all his
wounds wherewith he was stricken are closed; howbeit many of thy son, though he
be but a dead corpse, for they held him dear at heart.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the old man rejoiced, and answered him, saying: &ldquo;My
son, it is verily a good thing to give due offerings withal to the Immortals,
for never did my child—if that child indeed I had—forget in our halls the gods
who inhabit Olympus. Therefore have they remembered this for him, albeit his
portion is death. But come now take from me this goodly goblet, and guard me
myself and guide me, under Heaven, that I may come unto the hut of
Peleus&rsquo; son.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then spake unto him again the Messenger the slayer of Argus: &ldquo;Thou art
proving me, old sire, who am younger than thou, but thou wilt not prevail upon
me, in that thou biddest me take gifts from thee without Achilles&rsquo;
privity. I were afraid and shamed at heart to defraud him, lest some evil come
to pass on me hereafter. But as thy guide I would go even unto famous Argos,
accompanying thee courteously in swift ship or on foot. Not from scorn of thy
guide would any assail thee then.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake the Helper, and leaping on the chariot behind the horses he swiftly
took lash and reins into his hand, and breathed brave spirit into horses and
mules. But when they were come to the towers and trench of the ships, there
were the sentinels just busying them about their supper. Then the Messenger,
the slayer of Argus, shed sleep upon them all, and straightway opened the gates
and thrust back the bars, and brought within Priam and the splendid gifts upon
his wain. And they came to the lofty hut of the son of Peleus, which the
Myrmidons made for their king and hewed therefor timber of the pine, and
thatched it with downy thatching-rush that they mowed in the meadows, and
around it made for him their lord a great court with close-set palisades; and
the door was barred by a single bolt of pine that three Achaians wont to drive
home, and three drew back that mighty bar—three of the rest, but Achilles by
himself would drive it home. Then opened the Helper Hermes the door for the old
man, and brought in the splendid gifts for Peleus&rsquo; fleet-footed son, and
descended from the chariot to the earth and spake aloud: &ldquo;Old sire, I
that have come to thee am an immortal god, even Hermes, for my father sent me
to companion thee on thy way. But now will I depart from thee nor come within
Achilles&rsquo; sight; it were cause of wrath that an immortal god should thus
show favour openly unto mortals. But thou go in and clasp the knees of
Peleus&rsquo; son and entreat him for his father&rsquo;s sake and his
mother&rsquo;s of the lovely hair and for his child&rsquo;s sake that thou
mayest move his soul.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus Hermes spake, and departed unto high Olympus. But Priam leapt from the car
to the earth, and left Idaios in his place; he stayed to mind the horses and
mules; but the old man made straight for the house where Achilles dear to Zeus
was wont to sit. And therein he found the man himself, and his comrades sate
apart: two only, the hero Automedon and Alkimos, of the stock of Ares, were
busy in attendance; and he was lately ceased from meat, even from eating and
drinking: and still the table stood beside him. But they were unaware of great
Priam as he came in, and so stood he anigh and clasped in his hands the knees
of Achilles, and kissed his hands, terrible, man-slaying, that slew many of
Priam&rsquo;s sons. And as when a grievous curse cometh upon a man who in his
own country hath slain another and escapeth to a land of strangers, to the
house of some rich man, and wonder possesseth them that look on him—so Achilles
wondered when he saw godlike Priam, and the rest wondered likewise, and looked
upon one another. Then Priam spake and entreated him, saying: &ldquo;Bethink
thee, O Achilles like to gods, of thy father that is of like years with me, on
the grievous pathway of old age. Him haply are the dwellers round about
entreating evilly, nor is there any to ward from him ruin and bane.
Nevertheless while he heareth of thee as yet alive he rejoiceth in his heart,
and hopeth withal day after day that he shall see his dear son returning from
Troy-land. But I, I am utterly unblest, since I begat sons the best men in wide
Troy-land, but declare unto thee that none of them is left. Fifty I had, when
the sons of the Achaians came; nineteen were born to me of one mother, and
concubines bare the rest within my halls. Now of the more part had impetuous
Ares unstrung the knees, and he who was yet left and guarded city and men, him
slewest thou but now as he fought for his country, even Hector. For his sake
come I unto the ships of the Achaians that I may win him back from thee, and I
bring with me untold ransom. Yea, fear thou the gods, Achilles, and have
compassion on me, even me, bethinking thee of thy father. Lo, I am yet more
piteous than he, and have braved what none other man on earth hath braved
before, to stretch forth my hand toward the face of the slayer of my
sons.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and stirred within Achilles desire to make lament for his
father. And he touched the old mal&rsquo;s hand and gently moved him back. And
as they both bethought them of their dead, so Priam for man-slaying Hector wept
sore as he was fallen before Achilles&rsquo; feet, and Achilles wept for his
own father, and now again for Patroklos, and their moan went up throughout the
house. But when noble Achilles had satisfied him with lament, and the desire
thereof departed from his heart and limbs, straightway he sprang from his seat
and raised the old man by his hand, pitying his hoary head and hoary beard, and
spake unto him winged words and said: &ldquo;Ah hapless! many ill things verily
thou hast endured in thy heart. How durst thou come alone to the ships of the
Achaians and to meet the eyes of the man who hath slain full many of the brave
sons? of iron verily is thy heart. But come then set thee on a seat, and we
will let our sorrows lie quiet in our hearts for all our pain, for no avail
cometh of chill lament. This is the lot the gods have spun for miserable men,
that they should live in pain; yet themselves are sorrowless. For two urns
stand upon the floor of Zeus filled with his evil gifts, and one with
blessings. To whomsoever Zeus whose joy is in the lightning dealeth a mingled
lot, that man chanceth now upon ill and now again on good, but to whom he
giveth but of the bad kind him he bringeth to scorn, and evil famine chaseth
him over the goodly earth, and he is a wanderer honoured of neither gods nor
men. Even thus to Peleus gave the gods splendid gifts from his birth, for he
excelled all men in good fortune and wealth, and was king of the Myrmidons, and
mortal though he was the gods gave him a goddess to be his bride. Yet even on
him God brought evil, seeing that there arose to him no offspring of princely
sons in his halls, save that he begat one son to an untimely death. Neither may
I tend him as he groweth old, since very far from my country I am dwelling in
Troy-land, to vex thee and thy children. And of thee, old sire, we have heard
how of old time thou wert happy, even how of all that Lesbos, seat of Makar,
boundeth to the north thereof and Phrygia farther up and the vast Hellespont—of
all these folk, men say, thou wert the richest in wealth and in sons, but after
that the Powers of Heaven brought this bane on thee, ever are battles and
man-slayings around thy city. Keep courage, and lament not unabatingly in thy
heart. For nothing wilt thou avail by grieving for thy son, neither shalt thou
bring him back to life or ever some new evil come upon thee.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then made answer unto him the old man, godlike Priam: &ldquo;Bid me not to a
seat, O fosterling of Zeus, so long as Hector lieth uncared for at the huts,
but straightway give him back that I may behold him with mine eyes; and accept
thou the great ransom that we bring. So mayest thou have pleasure thereof, and
come unto thy native land, since thou hast spared me from the first.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then fleet-footed Achilles looked sternly upon him and said: &ldquo;No longer
chafe me, old sire; of myself am I minded to give Hector back to thee, for
there came to me a messenger from Zeus, even my mother who bare me, daughter of
the Ancient One of the Sea. And I know, O Priam, in my mind, nor am unaware
that some god it is that hath guided thee to the swift ships of the Achaians.
For no mortal man, even though in prime of youth, would dare to come among the
host, for neither could he escape the watch, nor easily thrust back the bolt of
our doors. Therefore now stir my heart no more amid my troubles, lest I leave
not even thee in peace, old sire, within my hut, albeit thou art my suppliant,
and lest I transgress the commandment of Zeus.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the old man feared, and obeyed his word. And the son of
Peleus leapt like a lion through the door of the house, not alone, for with him
went two squires, the hero Automedon and Alkimos, they whom above all his
comrades Achilles honoured, save only Patroklos that was dead. They then loosed
from under the yoke the horses and mules, and led in the old mal&rsquo;s
crier-herald and set him on a chair, and from the wain of goodly felloes they
took the countless ransom set on Hector&rsquo;s head. But they left two robes
and a well-spun doublet, that Achilles might wrap the dead therein when he gave
him to be carried home. And he called forth handmaids and bade them wash and
anoint him when they had borne him apart, so that Priam should not look upon
his son, lest he should not refrain the wrath at his sorrowing heart when he
should look upon his son, and lest Achilles&rsquo; heart be vexed thereat and
he slay him and transgress the commandment of Zeus. So when the handmaids had
washed the body and anointed it with oil, and had thrown over it a fair robe
and a doublet, then Achilles himself lifted it and laid it on a bier, and his
comrades with him lifted it on to the polished waggon. Then he groaned aloud
and called on his dear comrade by his name: &ldquo;Patroklos, be not vexed with
me if thou hear even in the house of Hades that I have given back noble Hector
unto his dear father, for not unworthy is the ransom he hath given me, whereof
I will deal to thee again thy rightful share.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake noble Achilles, and went back into the hut, and sate him down on the
cunningly-wrought couch whence he had arisen by the opposite wall, and spake a
word to Priam: &ldquo;Thy son, old sire, is given back as thou wouldest and
lieth on a bier, and with the break of day thou shalt see him thyself as thou
carriest him. But now bethink we us of supper. For even fair-haired Niobe
bethought her of meat, she whose twelve children perished in her halls, six
daughters and six lusty sons. The sons Apollo, in his anger against Niobe, slew
with arrows from his silver bow, and the daughters archer Artemis, for that
Niobe matched herself against fair-cheeked Leto, saying that the goddess bare
but twain but herself many children: so they though they were but twain
destroyed the other all. Nine days they lay in their blood, nor was there any
to bury them, for Kronion turned the folk to stones. Yet on the tenth day the
gods of heaven buried them, and she then bethought her of meat, when she was
wearied out with weeping tears. And somewhere now among the cliffs, on the
lonely mountains, even on Sipylos, where they say are the couching-places of
nymphs that dance around Acheloos, there she, albeit a stone, broodeth still
over her troubles from the gods. But come let us too, noble father, take
thought of meat, and afterward thou shalt mourn over thy dear son as thou
carriest him to Ilios; and many tears shall be his due.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake fleet Achilles, and sprang up, and slew a pure white sheep, and his
comrades skinned and made it ready in seemly fashion, and divided it cunningly
and pierced it with spits, and roasted it carefully and drew all off. And
Automedon took bread and served it on a table in fair baskets, while Achilles
dealt out the flesh. And they stretched forth their hands to the good cheer
lying ready before them. But when they had put off the desire of meat and
drink, then Priam son of Dardanos marvelled at Achilles to see how great he was
and how goodly, for he was like a god to look upon. And Achilles marvelled at
Priam son of Dardanos, beholding his noble aspect and hearkening to his words.
But when they had gazed their fill upon one another, then first spake the old
man, godlike Priam, to Achilles: &ldquo;Now presently give me whereon to lie,
fosterling of Zeus, that of sweet sleep also we may now take our fill at rest:
for never yet have mine eyes closed beneath their lids since at thy hands my
son lost his life, but I continually mourn and brood over countless griefs,
grovelling in the courtyard-close amid the mire. Now at last have I tasted
bread and poured bright wine down my throat, but till now I had tasted
naught.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
He said, and Achilles bade his comrades and handmaids to set a bedstead beneath
the portico, and to cast thereon fair shining rugs and spread coverlets above
and thereon to lay thick mantles to be a clothing over all. And the maids went
forth from the inner hail with torches in their hands, and quickly spread two
beds in haste. Then with bitter meaning [in his reference to Agamemnon] said
fleet-footed Achilles unto Priam: &ldquo;Lie thou without, dear sire, lest
there come hither one of the counsellors of the Achaians, such as ever take
counsel with me by my side, as custom is. If any of such should behold thee
through the swift black night, forthwith he might haply tell it to Agamemnon
shepherd of the host, and thus would there be delay in giving back the dead.
But come say this to me and tell it true, how many days&rsquo; space thou art
fain to make funeral for noble Hector, so that for so long I may myself abide
and may keep back the host.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
And the old man, godlike Priam, answered him, saying: &ldquo;If thou art verily
willing that I accomplish noble Hector&rsquo;s funeral, by doing as thou
sayest, O Achilles, thou wilt do me grace. For thou knowest how we are pent
within the city, and wood from the mountain is far to fetch, and the Trojans
are much in fear. Nine days will we make moan for him in our halls, and on the
tenth we will hold funeral and the folk shall feast, and on the eleventh we
will make, a barrow over him, and on the twelfth we will do battle if need
be.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Then again spake the fleet noble Achilles unto him, saying: &ldquo;All this, O
ancient Priam, shall be as thou biddest; for I will hold back the battle even
so long a time as thou tellest me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus speaking he clasped the old mal&rsquo;s right hand at the wrist, lest he
should be anywise afraid at heart. So they in the forepart of the house laid
them down, Priam and the herald, with wise thoughts at their hearts, but
Achilles slept in a recess of the firm-wrought hut, and beside him lay
fair-cheeked Briseis.
</p>

<p>
Now all other gods and warriors lords of chariots slumbered all night, by soft
sleep overcome. But not on the Helper Hermes did sleep take hold as he sought
within his heart how he should guide forth king Priam from the ships unespied
of the trusty sentinels. And he stood above his head and spake a word to him:
&ldquo;Old sire, no thought then hast thou of any evil, seeing thou yet
sleepest among men that are thine enemies, for that Achilles spared thee. Truly
now hast thou won back thy dear son, and at great price. But for thy life will
thy sons thou hast left behind be offering threefold ransom, if but Agamemnon
Atreus&rsquo; son be aware of thee, and aware be all the Achaians.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and the old man feared, and roused the herald. And Hermes yoked
the horses and mules for them, and himself drave them lightly through the camp,
and none was aware of them.
</p>

<p>
But when they came to the ford of the fair-flowing river, [even eddying
Xanthos, begotten of immortal Zeus,] then Hermes departed up to high Olympus,
and Morning of the saffron robe spread over all the earth. And they with wail
and moan drave the horses to the city, and the mules drew the dead. Nor marked
them any man or fair-girdled woman until Kassandra, peer of golden Aphrodite,
having gone up upon Pergamos, was aware of her dear father as he stood in the
car, and the herald that was crier to the town. Then beheld she him that lay
upon the bier behind the mules, and thereat she wailed and cried aloud
throughout all the town: &ldquo;O men and women of Troy, come ye hither and
look upon Hector, if ever while he was alive ye rejoiced when he came back from
battle, since great joy was he to the city and all the folk.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she, nor was man or woman left within the city, for upon all came
unendurable grief. And near the gates they met Priam bringing home the dead.
First bewailed him his dear wife and lady mother, as they cast them on the
fair-wheeled wain and touched his head; and around them stood the throng and
wept. So all day long unto the setting of the sun they had lamented Hector in
tears without the gate, had not the old man spoken from the car among the folk:
&ldquo;Give me place for the mules to pass through; hereafter ye shall have
your fill of wailing, when I have brought him unto his home.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they parted asunder and gave place to the wain. And the
others when they had brought him to the famous house, laid him on a fretted
bed, and set beside him minstrel leaders of the dirge, who wailed a mournful
lay, while the women made moan with them. And among the women white-armed
Andromache led the lamentation, while in her hands she held the head of Hector
slayer of men: &ldquo;Husband, thou art gone young from life, and leavest me a
widow in thy halls. And the child is yet but a little one, child of ill-fated
parents, thee and me; nor methinks shall he grow up to manhood, for ere then
shall this city be utterly destroyed. For thou art verily perished who didst
watch over it, who guardedst it and keptest safe its noble wives and infant
little ones. These soon shall be voyaging in the hollow ships, yea and I too
with them, and thou, my child, shalt either go with me unto a place where thou
shalt toil at unseemly tasks, labouring before the face of some harsh lord, or
else some Achaian will take thee by the arm and hurl thee from the battlement,
a grievous death, for that he is wroth because Hector slew his brother or
father or son, since full many of the Achaians in Hector&rsquo;s hands have
bitten the firm earth. For no light hand had thy father in the grievous fray.
Therefore the folk lament him throughout the city, and woe unspeakable and
mourning hast thou left to thy parents, Hector, but with me chiefliest shall
grievous pain abide. For neither didst thou stretch thy hands to me from a bed
in thy death, neither didst speak to me some memorable word that I might have
thought on evermore as my tears fall night and day.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she wailing, and the women joined their moan. And among them Hekabe
again led the loud lament: &ldquo;Hector, of all my children far dearest to my
heart, verily while thou wert alive dear wert thou to the gods, and even in thy
doom of death have they had care for thee. For other sons of mine whom he took
captive would fleet Achilles sell beyond the unvintaged sea unto Samos and
Imbros and smoking Lemnos, but when with keen-edged bronze he had bereft thee
of thy life he was fain to drag thee oft around the tomb of his comrade, even
Patroklos whom thou slewest, yet might he not raise him up thereby. But now all
dewy and fresh thou liest in our halls, like one on whom Apollo, lord of the
silver bow, hath descended and slain him with his gentle darts.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she wailing, and stirred unending moan. Then thirdly Helen led their
sore lament: &ldquo;Hector, of all my brethren of Troy far dearest to my heart!
Truly my lord is godlike Alexandros who brought me to Troy-land—would I had
died ere then. For this is now the twentieth year since I went thence and am
gone from my own native land, but never yet heard I evil or despiteful word
from thee; nay, if any other haply upbraided me in the palace-halls, whether
brother or sister of thine or brother&rsquo;s fair-robed wife, or thy
mother—but thy father is ever kind to me as he were my own—then wouldst thou
soothe such with words and refrain them, by the gentleness of thy spirit and by
thy gentle words. Therefore bewail I thee with pain at heart, and my hapless
self with thee, for no more is any left in wide Troy-land to be my friend and
kind to me, but all men shudder at me.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake she wailing, and therewith the great multitude of the people
groaned. But the old man Priam spake a word among the folk: &ldquo;Bring wood,
men of Troy, unto the city, and be not anywise afraid at heart of a crafty
ambush of the Achaians; for this message Achilles gave me when he sent me from
the black ships, that they should do us no hurt until the twelfth morn
arise.&rdquo;
</p>

<p>
Thus spake he, and they yoked oxen and mules to wains, and quickly then they
flocked before the city. So nine days they gathered great store of wood. But
when the tenth morn rose with light for men, then bare they forth brave Hector,
weeping tears, and on a lofty pyre they laid the dead man, and thereon cast
fire.
</p>

<p>
But when the daughter of Dawn, rosy-fingered Morning, shone forth, then
gathered the folk around glorious Hector&rsquo;s pyre. First quenched they with
bright wine all the burning, so far as the fire&rsquo;s strength went, and then
his brethren and comrades gathered his white bones lamenting, and big tears
flowed down their cheeks. And the bones they took and laid in a golden urn,
shrouding them in soft purple robes, and straightway laid the urn in a hollow
grave and piled thereon great close-set stones, and heaped with speed a barrow,
while watchers were set everywhere around, lest the well-greaved Achaians
should make onset before the time. And when they had heaped the barrow they
went back, and gathered them together and feasted right well in noble feast at
the palace of Priam, Zeus-fostered king.
</p>

<p>
Thus held they funeral for Hector tamer of horses.</p>

</div><!--end chapter-->