Complete Works of Homer
Page 56
Touched at his person; still he lies at fleet, and in the tent
Of our great Captain, who indeed is much too negligent
Of his fit usage. But, though now twelve days have spent their heat
On his cold body, neither worms with any taint have eat,
Nor putrefaction perished it; yet ever, when the Morn
Lifts her divine light from the sea, unmercifully borne
About Patroclus' sepulchre, it bears his friend's disdain,
Bound to his chariot; but no fits of further outrage reign
In his distemper. You would muse to see how deep a dew
Even steeps the body, all the blood washed off, no slend'rest show
Of gore or quitture, but his wounds all closed, though many were
Opened about him. Such a love the blest Immortals bear,
Even dead, to thy dear son, because his life showed love to them."
He joyful answered : " O my son, it is a grace supreme
In any man to serve the gods. And I must needs say this,
For no cause, having season fit, my Hector's hands would miss
Advancement to the Gods with gifts, and therefore do not they
Miss his remembrance after death. Now let an old man pray
Thy graces to receive this cup, and keep it for my love,
Nor leave me till the gods and thee have made my prayers approve
Achilles' pity, by thy guide brought to his princely tent."
Hermes replied : " You tempt me now, old king, to a consent
Far from me, though youth aptly errs. I secretly receive
Gifts that I cannot broadly vouch, take graces that will give
My lord dishonour, or what be knows not, or will esteem
Perhaps unfit? Such briberies perhaps at first may seem
Sweet and secure, but futurely they still prove sour, and breed
Both fear and danger.. I could wish thy grave affairs did need
My guide to Argos, either shipped, or lackeying by thy side,
And would be studious in thy guard, so nothing could be tried
But care in me to keep thee safe, for that I could excuse,
And vouch to all men." These words past, he put the deeds in use
For which Jove sent him; up he leapt to Priam's chariot,
Took scourge and reins, and blew in strength to his free steeds, and got
The naval tow'rs and deep dike straight. The guards were all at meat,
Those he enslumbered, oped the ports, and in he safely let
Old Priam with his wealthy prize. Forthwith they reached the tent
Of great Achilles, large and high, and in his most ascent
A shaggy roof of seedy reeds mown from the meads; a hall
Of state they made their king in it, and strength'ned it withal
Thick with fir rafters, whose approach was let in by a door
That had but one bar, but so big that three men evermore
Raised it to shut, three fresh take down, which yet Aeacides
Would shut and ope himself. And this with far more ease
Hermes set ope, ent'ring the" king; then leaped from horse and said :
“Now know, old king, that Mercury, a god, hath given this aid
To thy endeavour, sent by Jove; and now away must I,
For men would envy thy estate to see a deity
Affect a man thus. Enter thou, embrace Achilles' knee,
And by his sire, son, mother, pray his ruth and grace to thee"
This said, he high Olympus reached. The king then left his coach
To grave Idseus, and went on, made his resolved approach,
And entered in a goodly room, where with his princes sate
Jove-loved Achilles, at their feast; two only kept the state
Of his attendance, Alcimus, and lord Automedon,
At Priam's entry. A great time Achilles gazed upon
His wondered-at approach, nor eat; the rest did nothing see,
While close he came up, with his hands fast holding the bent knee
Of Hector's conqueror, and kissed that large man-slaughtering hand
That much blood from his sons had drawn. And as in some strange land,
And great man's house, a man is driv'n (with that abhorred dismay
That follows wilful bloodshed still, his fortune being to slay
One whose blood cries aloud for his) to plead protection,
In such a miserable plight as frights the lookers on;
In such a stupefied estate Achilles sat to see
So unexpected, so in night, and so incredibly,
Old Priam's entry. All his friends one on another stared
To see his strange looks, seeing no cause. Thus Priam then prepared
His son's redemption: " See in me, O godlike Thetis' son,
Thy aged father, and perhaps even now being outrun
With some of my woes, neighbour foes, (thou absent), taking time
To do him mischief, no mean left to terrify the crime
Of his oppression; yet he hears thy graces still survive,
And joys to hear it, hoping still to see thee safe arrive
From ruined Troy; but I, cursed man, of all my race shall live
To see none living. Fifty sons the deities did give
My hopes to live in, all alive when near our trembling shore
The Greek ships harboured, and one womb nineteen of those sons bore.
Now Mars a number of their knees hath strengthless left, and he
That was, of all, my only joy, and Troy's sole guard, by thee,
Late fighting for his country, slain : whose tendered person now
I come to ransom. Infinite is that I offer you,
Myself conferring it, exposed alone to all your odds,
Only imploring right of arms. Achilles! Fear the Gods,
Pity an old man like thy sire, different in only this,
That I am wretcheder, and bear that weight of miseries
That never man did, my cursed lips enforced to kiss that hand
That slew my children." This moved tears, his father's name did stand
(Mentioned by Priam,) in much help to his compassion,
And moved Aeacides so much he could not look upon
The weeping father. With his hand he gently put away
His grave face. Calm remission now did mutually display
Her power in either's heaviness. Old Priam, to record
His son's death and his deathsman see, his tears and bosom poured
Before Achilles; at his feet he laid his reverend head.
Achilles' thoughts, now with his sire, now with his friend, were fed.
Betwixt both sorrow filled the tent. But now Aeacides
(Satiate at all parts with the ruth of their calamities)
Start up, and up he raised the king. His milk-white head and beard
With pity he beheld, and said : " Poor man, thy mind is scared
With much affliction. How durst thy person thus alone
Venture on his sight that hath slain so many a worthy son,
And so dear to thee? Thy old heart is made of iron. Sit,
And 'settle we our woes, though huge, for nothing profits it.
Cold mourning wastes but our lives' heats. The gods have destinate
That wretched mortals must live sad : 'Tis the immortal state
Of deity that lives secure. Two tuns of gifts there lie
In Jove's gate, one of good, one ill, that our mortality
Maintain, spoil, order; which when Jove doth mix to any man,
One while he frolics, one while mourns. If of his mournful can
A man drinks only, only wrongs he doth expose him to,
Sad hunger in th' abundant earth doth toss him to and fro.
Respected nor of gods nor men. The mixed cup Peleus drank
Even from his birth; Heaven blest his life; he lived not that could thank
The gods for suc
h rare benefits as set forth his estate.
He reigned among his Myrmidons most rich, most fortunate,
And, though a mortal, had his bed decked with a deathless dame.
And yet, with all this good, one ill God mixed, that takes all name
From all that goodness; his name now, whose preservation here
Men count the crown of their most good, not bless'd with power to bear
One blossom but myself, and I shaken as soon as blown;
Nor shall I live to cheer his age, and give nutrition
To him that nourished me. Far off my rest is set in Troy
To leave thee restless and thy seed; thyself that did enjoy,
As we have heard, a happy life, what Lesbos doth contain,
In times past being a bless'd man's seat, what th' unmeasured main
Of Hellespontus, Phrygia, holds, are all said to adorn
Thy empire, wealth and sons enow, but, when the Gods did turn
Thy blest state to partake with bane, war and the bloods of men
Circled thy city, never olear. Sit down and suffer then,
Mourn not inevitable things; thy tears can spring no deeds
To help thee, nor recall thy son; impatience ever breeds
Ill upon ill, makes worst things worse, and therefore sit." He said :
“Give me no seat, great seed of Jove, when yet unransomed
Hector lies riteless in thy tents, but deign with utmost speed
His resignation, that these eyes.may see his person freed,
And thy grace satisfied with gifts. Accept what I have brought,
And turn to Phthia; 'tis enough thy conquering hand hath fought
Till Hector faltered under it, and Hector's father stood
With free humanity safe." He frowned and said : " Give not my blood
Fresh cause of fury. I know well I must resign thy son,
Jove by my mother utter'd it, and what besides is done
I know as amply; and thyself, old Priam, I know too.
Some God hath brought thee, for no man durst use a thought to go •
On such a service. I have guards, and I have gates to stay
Easy accesses; do not then presume thy will can sway,
Like Jove's will, and incense again my quenched blood, lest nor thou
Nor Jove get the command of me." This made the old king bow,
And down he sat in fear. The prince leaped like a lion forth,
Automedon and Alcimus attending; all the Worth
Brought for the body they took down and brought in, and with it
Idseus, herald to the king; a coat embroidered yet,
And two rich cloaks, they left to hide the person. Thetis' son
Called out his women to anoint and quickly overrun
The corse with water, lifting it in private to the coach,
Lest Priam saw, and his cold blood embraced a fiery touch
Of anger at the turpitude profaning it, and blew
Again his wrath's fire to his death. This done, his women threw
The coat and cloak on, but the corse Achilles' own hand laid
Upon a bed, and with his friends to chariot it conveyed.
For which forced grace, abhorring so from his free mind, he wept,
Cried out for anger, and thus prayed : " O, friend, do not accept
Against this favour to our foe, if in the deep thou hear,
And that I give him to his sire; he gave fair ransom; dear
In my observance is Jove's will; and whatsoever part
Of all these gifts by any mean I fitly may convert
To thy renown here, and will there, it shall be poured upon
Thy honoured sepulchre." This said, he went, and what was done
Told Priam, saying : " Father, now thy will's fit rites are paid,
Thy son is given up; in the morn thine eyes shall see him laid
Decked in thy chariot on his bed; in mean space let us eat.
The rich-haired Niobe found thoughts that made her take her meat,
Though twelve dear children she saw slain, six daughters, six young sons
The sons incensed Apollo slew; the maids' confusions
Diana wrought, since Niobe her merits durst compare
With great Latona's, arguing that she did only bear
Two children, and herself had twelve, for which those only two
Slew all her twelve. Nine days they lay steeped in their blood, her woe
Found no friend to afford them fire, Saturnius had turned
Humanes to stones. The tenth day yet, the good celestials burned
The trunks themselves, and Niobe, when she was tired with tears,
Fell to her food, and now with rocks and wild hills mixed she bears
In Sipylus the gods' wraths still, in that place where 'tis said
The Goddess Fairies use to dance about the funeral bed
Of Achelous, where, though turned with cold grief to a stone,
Heaven gives her heat enough to feel what plague comparison
With his pow'rs made by earth deserves. Affect not then too far
Without grief, like a God, being a .man, but for a man's life care,
And take fit food: thou shalt have time beside to mourn thy son;
He shall be tearful, thou being full, not here, but Ilion i
Shall find thee weeping-rooms enow." He said, and so arose,
And caused a silver-fleeced sheep killed: his friends' skills did dispose
The flaying, cutting of it up, and cookly spitted it,
Roasted, and drew it artfully. Automedon, as fit,
Was for the reverend sewer's place; and all the brown joints served
On wicker vessels to the board; Achilles' own hands kerved,
And close they fell to. Hunger stanched, talk, and observing time,
Was used of all hands. Priam sat amazed to see the prime
Of Thetis' son, accomplished so with stature, looks, and grace,
In which the fashion of a God he thought had changed his place.
Achilles fell to him as fast, admired as much his years
Told in his grave and good aspect, his speech even charmed his ears,
So ordered, so material. With this food feasted too,
Old Priam spake thus : " Now, Jove's seed, command that I may go,
And add to this feast grace of rest. These lids ne'er closed mine eyes
Since under thy hands fled the soul of my dear son; sighs, cries,
And woes, all use from food and sleep have taken; the base courts
Of my sad palace made my beds, where all the abject sorts
Of sorrow I have varied, tumbled in dust, and hid;
No bit, no drop, of sustenance touched." Then did Achilles bid
His men and women see his bed laid down, and covered
With purple blankets, and on them an arras coverlid,
Waistcoats of silk plush laying by. The women straight took lights,
And two beds made with'utmost speed, and all the other rites'
Their lord named used, who pleasantly the king in hand thus bore :
“Good father, you must sleep without, lest any counsellor
Make his access in depth of night, as oft their industry
Brings them t' impart our war-affairs, of whom should any eye
Discern your presence, his next steps to Agamemnon fly,
And then shall I lose all these gifts. But go to, signify,
And that with truth, how many days you mean to keep the state
Of Hector's funerals; because so long would I rebate
Mine own edge set to sack your town, and all our host contain
From interruption of your rites." He answered: " If you mean
To suffer such rites to my son, you shall perform a part
Of most grace to me. But you know with how dismayed a heart
Our host took Troy, and how much fear will therefore apprehend
Their spirits
to make out again, so far as we must send
For wood to raise our heap of death; unless I may assure
That this your high grace will stand good, and make their pass secure;
Which if you seriously confirm, nine days I mean to mourn,
The tenth keep funeral and feast, th' eleventh raise and adorn
My son's fit sepulchre, the twelfth, if w.e-must needs, we'll fight."
“Be it," replied Aeacides, " do Hector all, this right;
I'll hold war back those whole twelve days; of which, to free all fear,
Take this my right hand." This confirmed, the old king rested there;
His herald lodged by him; and both in forepart of the tent;
Achilles in an inmost room of wondrous ornament,
Whose side bright-cheeked Briseis warmed. Soft sleep tamed gods and men,
All but most-useful Mercury; sleep could not lay one chain
On his quick temples, taking care for getting off again
Engaged Priam undiscerned of those that did maintain
The sacred watch. Above his head he stood with this demand:
“O father, sleep'st thou so secure, still lying in the hand
Of so much ill, and being dismissed by great ^Eacides?
'Tis true thou hast redeemed the dead, but for thy life's release,
Should Agamemnon hear thee here, three times the price now paid
Thy sons' hands must repay for thee." This said, the king, afraid,
Starts from his sleep, Idaeus'called, and, for both, Mercury
The horse and mules, before loosed, joined so soft and curiously
That no ear heard, and through the host drave; but when they drew
To gulfy Xanthus' bright-waved stream, up to Olympus flew
Industrious Mercury. And now the saffron morning rose,
Spreading her white robe over all the world; when, full of woes,
They scourged on with the corse to Troy, from whence no eye had seen,
Before Cassandra, their return. She, like love's golden Queen,
Ascending Pergamus, discerned her father's person nigh,
His herald, and her brother's corse, and then she 'cast this cry
Round about Troy : " O Tro'ians, if ever ye did greet
Hector returned from fight alive, now look ye out and meet
His ransomed person. Then his worth was all your city's joy,
Now do it honour." Out all rushed, woman nor man in Troy
Was left, a most unmeasured cry took up their voices. Close
To Scsea's ports they met the corse : and to it headlong goes
The reverend mother, the dear wife, upon it strow their hair,