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The Iliad of Homer

Page 64

by Richmond Lattimore


  15 The sands were wet, and the armor of men was wet with their tears. Such

  was their longing after Patroklos, who drove men to thoughts of terror.

  Peleus’ son led the thronging chant of their lamentation,

  and laid his manslaughtering hands over the chest of his dear friend:

  “Good-bye, Patroklos. I hail you even in the house of the death god.

  20 All that I promised you in time past I am accomplishing,

  that I would drag Hektor here and give him to the dogs to feed on

  raw, and before your burning pyre to behead twelve glorious

  children of the Trojans for my anger over your slaying.”

  He spoke, and thought of shameful treatment for glorious Hektor.

  25 He laid him on his face in the dust by the bier of Menoitios’

  son. Meanwhile the others took off each man his glittering

  brazen armor, and all unyoked their proud neighing horses

  and sat down in their thousands beside the ship of swift-footed

  Aiakides, who set the funeral feast in abundance

  30 before them; and many shining oxen were slaughtered with the stroke

  of the iron, and many sheep and bleating goats and numerous

  swine with shining teeth and the fat abundant upon them

  were singed and stretched out across the flame of Hephaistos.

  The blood ran and was caught in cups all around the dead man.

  35 But now the kings of the Achaians brought the swift-footed

  lord, the son of Peleus, to great Agamemnon, hardly

  persuading him, since his heart was still angered for his companion.

  When these had made their way to the shelter of Agamemnon

  straightway they gave orders to the heralds, the clear crying,

  40 to set a great cauldron over the fire, if so they might persuade

  the son of Peleus to wash away the filth of the bloodstains,

  but he denied them stubbornly and swore an oath on it:

  “No, before Zeus, who is greatest of gods and the highest,

  there is no right in letting water come near my head, until

  45 I have laid Patroklos on the burning pyre, and heaped the mound over him,

  and cut my hair for him, since there will come no second sorrow

  like this to my heart again while I am still one of the living.

  Then let us now give way to the gloomy feast; and with the dawn

  cause your people to rise, O lord of men Agamemnon,

  50 and bring in timber and lay it by, with all that is fitting

  for the dead man to have when he goes down under the gloom and the darkness,

  so that with the more speed the unwearying fire may burn him

  away from our eyes, and the people turn back to that which they must do.”

  So he spoke, and they listened well to him and obeyed him,

  55 and in speed and haste they got the dinner ready, and each man

  feasted, nor was any man’s hunger denied a fair portion.

  But when they had put aside their desire for eating and drinking,

  they went away to sleep, each man into his own shelter,

  but along the beach of the thunderous sea the son of Peleus

  60 lay down, groaning heavily, among the Myrmidon numbers

  in a clear place where the waves washed over the beach; and at that time

  sleep caught him and was drifted sweetly about him, washing

  the sorrows out of his mind, for his shining limbs were grown weary

  indeed, from running in chase of Hektor toward windy Ilion;

  65 and there appeared to him the ghost of unhappy Patroklos

  all in his likeness for stature, and the lovely eyes, and voice,

  and wore such clothing as Patroklos had worn on his body.

  The ghost came and stood over his head and spoke a word to him:

  “You sleep, Achilleus; you have forgotten me; but you were not

  70 careless of me when I lived, but only in death. Bury me

  as quickly as may be, let me pass through the gates of Hades.

  The souls, the images of dead men, hold me at a distance,

  and will not let me cross the river and mingle among them,

  but I wander as I am by Hades’ house of the wide gates.

  75 And I call upon you in sorrow, give me your hand; no longer

  shall I come back from death, once you give me my rite of burning.

  No longer shall you and I, alive, sit apart from our other

  beloved companions and make our plans, since the bitter destiny

  that was given me when I was born has opened its jaws to take me.

  80 And you, Achilleus like the gods, have your own destiny;

  to be killed under the wall of the prospering Trojans. There is one

  more thing I will say, and ask of you, if you will obey me:

  do not have my bones laid apart from yours, Achilleus,

  but with them, just as we grew up together in your house,

  85 when Menoitios brought me there from Opous, when I was little,

  and into your house, by reason of a baneful manslaying,

  on that day when I killed the son of Amphidamas. I was

  a child only, nor intended it, but was angered over a dice game.

  There the rider Peleus took me into his own house,

  90 and brought me carefully up, and named me to be your henchman.

  Therefore, let one single vessel, the golden two-handled

  urn the lady your mother gave you, hold both our ashes.”

  Then in answer to him spoke swift-footed Achilleus:

  “How is it, O hallowed head of my brother, you have come back to me

  95 here, and tell me all these several things? Yet surely

  I am accomplishing all, and I shall do as you tell me.

  But stand closer to me, and let us, if only for a little,

  embrace, and take full satisfaction from the dirge of sorrow.”

  So he spoke, and with his own arms reached for him, but could not

  100 take him, but the spirit went underground, like vapor,

  with a thin cry, and Achilleus started awake, staring,

  and drove his hands together, and spoke, and his words were sorrowful:

  “Oh, wonder! Even in the house of Hades there is left something,

  a soul and an image, but there is no real heart of life in it.

  105 For all night long the phantom of unhappy Patroklos

  stood over me in lamentation and mourning, and the likeness

  to him was wonderful, and it told me each thing I should do.”

  So he spoke, and stirred in all of them the passion of mourning,

  and Dawn of the rose fingers showed on them as still they mourned

  110 about the forlorn body. Now powerful Agamemnon

  gave order for men and mules to assemble from all the shelters

  and bring in timber, and a great man led them in motion,

  Meriones, the henchman of courtly Idomeneus. These then

  went out and in their hands carried axes to cut wood

  115 and ropes firmly woven, and their mules went on ahead of them.

  They went many ways, uphill, downhill, sidehill and slantwise;

  but when they came to the spurs of Ida with all her well springs,

  they set to hewing with the thin edge of bronze and leaning

  their weight to the strokes on towering-leafed oak trees that toppled

  120 with huge crashing; then the Achaians splitting the timbers

  fastened them to the mules and these with their feet tore up

  the ground as they pulled through the dense undergrowth to the flat land.

  All the woodcutters carried logs themselves; such was the order

  of Meriones, the henchman of courtly Idomeneus. These then

  125 threw down their burdens in order along the bea
ch, where Achilleus

  had chosen place for a huge grave mound, for himself and Patroklos.

  Then when on all sides they had thrown down abundance of timber,

  they sat down where they were, assembled. And now Achilleus

  gave order at once to the Myrmidons, whose delight was in battle,

  130 to belt themselves in bronze and each man to yoke his horses

  to the chariot. And they rose up and got into their armor

  and stepped up, charioteer and sideman, into the chariots

  with the horsemen in front, and behind them came on a cloud of foot-soldiers

  by thousands; and in the midst his companions carried Patroklos.

  135 They covered all the corpse under the locks of their hair, which they cut off

  and dropped on him, and behind them brilliant Achilleus held the head

  sorrowing, for this was his true friend he escorted toward Hades.

  When these had come to the place Achilleus had spoken of to them

  they laid him down, and quickly piled up abundant timber.

  140 And now brilliant swift-footed Achilleus remembered one more thing.

  He stood apart from the pyre and cut off a lock of fair hair

  which he had grown long to give to the river Spercheios, and gazing

  in deep distress out over the wine-blue water, he spoke forth:

  “Spercheios, it was in vain that Peleus my father vowed to you

  145 that there, when I had won home to the beloved land of my fathers,

  I would cut my hair for you and make you a grand and holy

  sacrifice of fifty rams consecrate to the waters

  of your springs, where is your holy ground and your smoking altar.

  So the old man vowed, but you did not accomplish his purpose.

  150 Now, since I do not return to the beloved land of my fathers,

  I would give my hair into the keeping of the hero Patroklos.”

  He spoke, and laid his hair in the hands of his beloved

  companion, and stirred in all of them the passion of mourning.

  And now the light of the sun would have set on their lamentation

  155 had not Achilleus soon stood by Agamemnon and spoken:

  “Son of Atreus, beyond others the people of the Achaians

  will obey your words. There can be enough, even in mourning.

  Now cause them to scatter from the fire and bid them make ready

  their dinner; and we, who are most nearly concerned with the dead man,

  160 shall do this work; except only let the leaders stay near us.”

  Then the lord of men, Agamemnon, when he had heard this,

  at once caused the people to disperse among the balanced ships,

  but the close mourners stayed by the place and piled up the timber,

  and built a pyre a hundred feet long this way and that way,

  165 and on the peak of the pyre they laid the body, sorrowful

  at heart; and in front of it skinned and set in order numbers

  of fat sheep and shambling horn-curved cattle; and from all

  great-hearted Achilleus took the fat and wrapped the corpse in it

  from head to foot, and piled up the skinned bodies about it.

  170 Then he set beside him two-handled jars of oil and honey

  leaning them against the bier, and drove four horses with strong necks

  swiftly aloft the pyre with loud lamentation. And there were

  nine dogs of the table that had belonged to the lord Patroklos.

  Of these he cut the throats of two, and set them on the pyre;

  175 and so also killed twelve noble sons of the great-hearted Trojans

  with the stroke of bronze, and evil were the thoughts in his heart against them,

  and let loose the iron fury of the fire to feed on them.

  Then he groaned, and called by name on his beloved companion:

  “Good-bye, Patroklos. I hail you even in the house of the death god

  180 for all that I promised you in time past I am accomplishing.

  Here are twelve noble sons of the great-hearted Trojans

  whom the fire feeds on, all, as it feeds on you. But I will not

  give Hektor, Priam’s son, to the fire, but the dogs, to feast on.”

  So he spoke his threat. But the dogs did not deal with Hektor,

  185 for Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, drove the dogs back from him

  by day and night, and anointed him with rosy immortal

  oil, so Achilleus, when he dragged him about, might not tear him.

  And Phoibos Apollo brought down a darkening mist about him

  from the sky to the plain, and covered with it all the space that was taken

  190 by the dead man, to keep the force of the sun from coming

  first, and wither his body away by limbs and sinews.

  But the pyre of dead Patroklos would not light. Then swift-footed

  brilliant Achilleus thought of one more thing that he must do.

  He stood apart from the pyre and made his prayer to the two winds

  195 Boreas and Zephyros, north wind and west, and promised them splendid

  offerings, and much outpouring from a golden goblet entreated them

  to come, so that the bodies might with best speed burn in the fire

  and the timber burst into flame. And Iris, hearing his prayer,

  went swiftly as messenger to the winds for him. Now the winds

  200 assembled within the house of storm-blowing Zephyros

  were taking part in a feast, and Iris paused in her running

  and stood on the stone doorsill; but they, when their eyes saw her,

  sprang to their feet, and each one asked her to sit beside him.

  But she refused to be seated and spoke her word to them: “I must not

  205 sit down. I am going back to the running waters of Ocean

  and the Aithiopians’ land, where they are making grand sacrifice

  to the immortals; there I, too, shall partake of the sacraments.

  But Achilleus’ prayer is that Boreas and blustering Zephyros

  may come to him, and he promises them splendid offerings,

  210 so that you may set ablaze the funeral pyre, whereon lies

  Patroklos, with all Achaians mourning about him.”

  She spoke so, and went away, and they with immortal

  clamor rose up, and swept the clouds in confusion before them.

  They came with a sudden blast upon the sea, and the waves rose

  215 under the whistling wind. They came to the generous Troad

  and hit the pyre, and a huge inhuman blaze rose, roaring.

  Nightlong they piled the flames on the funeral pyre together

  and blew with a screaming blast, and nightlong swift-footed Achilleus

  from a golden mixing bowl, with a two-handled goblet in his hand,

  220 drew the wine and poured it on the ground and drenched the ground with it,

  and called upon the soul of unhappy Patroklos. And as

  a father mourns as he burns the bones of a son, who was married

  only now, and died to grieve his unhappy parents,

  so Achilleus was mourning as he burned his companion’s

  225 bones, and dragged himself by the fire in close lamentation.

  At that time when the dawn star passes across earth, harbinger

  of light, and after him dawn of the saffron mantle is scattered

  across the sea, the fire died down and the flames were over.

  The winds took their way back toward home again, crossing

  230 the Thracian water, and it boiled with a moaning swell as they crossed it.

  The son of Peleus turned aside and away from the burning

  and lay down exhausted, and sweet sleep rose upon him. But now

  they who were with the son of Atreus assembled together

  and the sound and murmur of their oncomi
ng wakened Achilleus,

  235 who straightened himself and sat upright and spoke a word to him:

  “Son of Atreus, and you other greatest of all the Achaians,

  first put out with gleaming wine the pyre that is burning,

  all that still has on it the fury of fire; and afterward

  we shall gather up the bones of Patroklos, the son of Menoitios,

  240 which we shall easily tell apart, since they are conspicuous

  where he lay in the middle of the pyre and the others far from him

  at the edge burned, the men indiscriminately with the horses.

  And let us lay his bones in a golden jar and a double

  fold of fat, until I myself enfold him in Hades.

  245 And I would have you build a grave mound which is not very great

  but such as will be fitting, for now; afterward, the Achaians

  can make it broad and high—such of you Achaians as may be

  left to survive me here by the benched ships, after I am gone.”

  So he spoke, and they did as swift-footed Peleion told them.

  250 First with gleaming wine they put out the pyre that was burning,

  as much as was still aflame, and the ashes dropped deep from it.

  Then they gathered up the white bones of their gentle companion,

  weeping, and put them into a golden jar with a double

  fold of fat, and laid it away in his shelter, and covered it

  255 with a thin veil; then laid out the tomb and cast down the holding walls

  around the funeral pyre, then heaped the loose earth over them

  and piled the tomb, and turned to go away. But Achilleus

  held the people there, and made them sit down in a wide assembly,

  and brought prizes for games out of his ships, cauldrons and tripods,

  260 and horses and mules and the powerful high heads of cattle

  and fair-girdled women and gray iron. First of all

  he set forth the glorious prizes for speed of foot for the horsemen:

  a woman faultless in the work of her hands to lead away

  and a tripod with ears and holding twenty-two measures

  265 for the first prize; and for the second he set forth a six-year-old

  unbroken mare who carried a mule foal within her.

  Then for the third prize he set forth a splendid unfired

  cauldron, which held four measures, with its natural gloss still upon it.

  For the fourth place he set out two talents’ weight of gold, and for

  270 the fifth place set forth an unfired jar with two handles.

 

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