Along the shore of the sounding sea they went, making prayer to Zeus that he would grant them success in what they sought.
When they came to the ships and huts of Achilles they found him sitting with a lyre in his hand. Of beautiful workmanship it was, with a silver cross-bar upon it, and as the hands of Achilles drew from it wondrous melody, he sang of the glorious deeds of the heroes of old.
Beside him sat Patroclus, listening silently to the song of the friend that he loved.
Then did Odysseus step forward, and Achilles, amazed, sprang to his feet, his lyre in his hand, and Patroclus also arose.
‘Welcome ye are,’ said Achilles; ‘truly ye are friends that are come. Even in my anger are ye the dearest of all the Greeks to me.’
Then he led them forward and made them sit on seats covered with lordly purple.
To Patroclus he said:
‘Bring forth the biggest bowl and the finest of my wines, for I have no dearer friends than those who are here with me now.’
So did Achilles have a rich feast of precious wines and of dainties of all sorts made ready for those who brought him the message of Agamemnon the king.
And when the feast was ended, Odysseus did tell him of the dire woes of the Greeks and of the royal gifts of Agamemnon, and of the pleadings of the Greeks and of their overlord, that their hero, Achilles, would come and fight for them once again.