Why weeps my son? what sorrow wrings thy soul?
Speak, hide it not. Jove hath fulfill’d the prayer
Which erst with lifted hands thou didst prefer,
That all Achaia’s host, wanting thy aid,95
Might be compell’d into the fleet, and foul
Disgrace incur, there prison’d for thy sake.
To whom Achilles, groaning deep, replied.
My mother! it is true; Olympian Jove
That prayer fulfils; but thence, what joy to me,100
Patroclus slain? the friend of all my friends
Whom most I loved, dear to me as my life—
Him I have lost. Slain and despoil’d he lies
By Hector of his glorious armor bright,
The wonder of all eyes, a matchless gift105
Given by the Gods to Peleus on that day
When thee they doom’d into a mortal’s arms.
Oh that with these thy deathless ocean-nymphs
Dwelling content, thou hadst my father left
To espouse a mortal bride, so hadst thou ’scaped110
Pangs numberless which thou must now endure
For thy son’s death, whom thou shalt never meet
From Troy return’d, in Peleus’ mansion more!
For life I covet not, nor longer wish
To mix with human kind, unless my spear115
May find out Hector, and atonement take
By slaying him, for my Patroclus slain.
To whom, with streaming tears, Thetis replied.
Swift comes thy destiny as thou hast said,
For after Hector’s death thine next ensues.120
Then answer, thus, indignant he return’d.
Death, seize me now! since when my friend was slain,
My doom was, not to succor him. He died
From home remote, and wanting me to save him.
Now, therefore, since I neither visit more125
My native land, nor, present here, have aught
Avail’d Patroclus or my many friends
Whom noble Hector hath in battle slain,
But here I sit unprofitable grown,
Earth’s burden, though of such heroic note,130
If not in council foremost (for I yield
That prize to others) yet in feats of arms,
Such as none other in Achaia’s host,
May fierce contention from among the Gods
Perish, and from among the human race,135
With wrath, which sets the wisest hearts on fire;
Sweeter than dropping honey to the taste,
But in the bosom of mankind, a smoke![3]
Such was my wrath which Agamemnon roused,
The king of men. But since the past is fled140
Irrevocable, howsoe’er distress’d,
Renounce we now vain musings on the past,
Content through sad necessity. I go
In quest of noble Hector, who hath slain
My loved Patroclus, and such death will take145
As Jove ordains me and the Powers of Heaven
At their own season, send it when they may.
For neither might the force of Hercules,
Although high-favored of Saturnian Jove,
From death escape, but Fate and the revenge150
Restless of Juno vanquish’d even Him.
I also, if a destiny like his
Await me, shall, like him, find rest in death;
But glory calls me now; now will I make
Some Trojan wife or Dardan with both hands155
Wipe her soft cheeks, and utter many a groan.
Long time have I been absent from the field,
And they shall know it. Love me as thou may’st,
Yet thwart me not, for I am fixt to go.
Whom Thetis answer’d, Goddess of the Deep.160
Thou hast well said, my son! it is no blame
To save from threaten’d death our suffering friends.
But thy magnificent and dazzling arms
Are now in Trojan hands; them Hector wears
Exulting, but ordain’d not long to exult,165
So habited; his death is also nigh.
But thou with yonder warring multitudes
Mix not till thou behold me here again;
For with the rising sun I will return
To-morrow, and will bring thee glorious arms,170
By Vulcan forged himself, the King of fire.[4]
She said, and turning from her son aside,
The sisterhood of Ocean thus address’d.
Plunge ye again into the briny Deep,
And to the hoary Sovereign of the floods175
Report as ye have heard. I to the heights
Olympian haste, that I may there obtain
From Vulcan, glorious artist of the skies,
Arms of excelling beauty for my son.
She said; they plunged into the waves again,180
And silver-footed Thetis, to the heights
Olympian soaring swiftly to obtain
Arms for renown’d Achilles, disappear’d.
Meantime, with infinite uproar the Greeks
From Hector’s hero-slaying arm had fled185
Home to their galleys station’d on the banks
Of Hellespont. Nor yet Achaia’s sons
Had borne the body of Patroclus clear
From flight of darts away, but still again
The multitude of warriors and of steeds190
Came on, by Priameian Hector led
Rapid as fire. Thrice noble Hector seized
His ancles from behind, ardent to drag
Patroclus, calling to his host the while;
But thrice, the two Ajaces, clothed with might,195
Shock’d and repulsed him reeling. He with force
Fill’d indefatigable, through his ranks
Issuing, by turns assail’d them, and by turns
Stood clamoring, yet not a step retired;
But as the hinds deter not from his prey200
A tawny lion by keen hunger urged,
So would not both Ajaces, warriors bold,
Intimidate and from the body drive
Hector; and he had dragg’d him thence and won
Immortal glory, but that Iris, sent205
Unseen by Jove and by the powers of heaven,
From Juno, to Achilles brought command
That he should show himself. Full near she drew,
And in wing’d accents thus the Chief address’d.
Hero! most terrible of men, arise!210
protect Patroclus, for whose sake the war
Stands at the fleet of Greece. Mutual prevails
The slaughter, these the dead defending, those
Resolute hence to drag him to the gates
Of wind-swept Ilium. But beyond them all215
Illustrious Hector, obstinate is bent
To win him, purposing to lop his head,
And to exhibit it impaled on high.
Thou then arise, nor longer on the ground
Lie stretch’d inactive; let the thought with shame220
Touch thee, of thy Patroclus made the sport
Of Trojan dogs, whose corse, if it return
Dishonored home, brings with it thy reproach.