THE ILIAD (Completed)

BOOK 16

Thus round the well-mann'd ship they wag'd the war: Meanwhile by Peleus' son Patroclus stood, Weeping hot tears; as some dark-water'd fount Pours o'er a craggy rock its gloomy stream; Achilles, swift of foot, with pity saw, And to his friend these winged words address'd:

"Why weeps Patroclus, like an infant girl, That prays her mother, by whose side she runs, To take her up; and, clinging to her gown, Impedes her way, and still with tearful eyes Looks in her face, until she take her up? Ev'n as that girl, Patroclus, such art thou, Shedding soft tears: hast thou some tidings brought Touching the gen'ral weal, or me alone? Or have some evil news from Phthia come, Known but to thee? Menoetius, Actor's son, Yet surely lives; and 'mid his Myrmidons Lives aged Peleus, son of AEacus: Their deaths indeed might well demand our tears: Or weep'st thou for the Greeks, who round their ships By death their former insolence repay? Speak out, that I may know thy cause of grief."

To whom, with bitter groans, Patroclus thus: "O son of Peleus, noblest of the Greeks, Achilles, be not wroth! such weight of woe The Grecian camp oppresses; in their ships They who were late their bravest and their best, Sore wounded all by spear or arrow lie; The valiant son of Tydeus, Diomed, Pierc'd by a shaft, Ulysses by a spear, And Agamemnon's self; Eurypylus By a sharp arrow through the thigh transfix'd; For these, the large resources of their art The leeches ply, and on their wounds attend; While thou, Achilles, still remain'st unmov'd. Oh, be it never mine to nurse such hate As thou retain'st, inflexibly severe! Who e'er may hope in future days by thee To profit, if thou now forbear to save The Greeks from shame and loss? Unfeeling man! Sure Peleus, horseman brave, was ne'er thy sire, Nor Thetis bore thee; from the cold grey sea And craggy rocks thou hadst thy birth; so hard And stubborn is thy soul. But if the fear Of evil prophesied thyself restrain, Or message by thy Goddess-mother brought From Jove, yet send me forth with all thy force Of Myrmidons, to be the saving light Of Greece; and let me to the battle bear Thy glitt'ring arms, if so the men of Troy, Scar'd by thy likeness, may forsake the field, And breathing-time afford the sons of Greece, Toil-worn; for little pause has yet been theirs. Fresh and unwearied, we may drive with ease To their own city, from our ships and tents, The Trojans, worn and battle-wearied men."

Thus pray'd he, all unwisely; for the pray'r He utter'd, to himself was fraught with death; To whom, much griev'd, Achilles, swift of foot: "Heav'n-born Patroclus, oh, what words are these! Of prophecy I reck not, though I know; Nor message hath my mother brought from Jove; But it afflicts my soul; when one I see That basely robs his equal of his prize, His lawful prize, by highest valour won; Such grief is mine, such wrong have I sustain'd. Her, whom the sons of Greece on me bestow'd, Prize of my spear, the well-wall'd city storm'd, The mighty Agamemnon, Atreus' son, Hath borne by force away, as from the hands Of some dishonour'd, houseless vagabond. But let the past be past; I never meant My wrath should have no end; yet had not thought My anger to abate, till my own ships Should hear the war-cry, and the battle bear, But go, and in my well-known armour clad, Lead forth the valiant Myrmidons to war, Since the dark cloud of Trojans circles round The ships in force; and on the shingly beach, Pent up in narrow limits, lie the Greeks; And all the city hath pour'd its numbers forth In hope undoubting; for they see no more My helm among them flashing; else in flight Their dead would choke the streams, if but to me Great Agamemnon bore a kindly mind: But round the camp the battle now is wag'd. No more the hands of valiant Diomed, The Greeks protecting, hurl his fiery spear; Nor hear I now, from his detested lips, The shout of Agamemnon; all around Is heard the warrior-slayer Hector's voice, Cheering his Trojans; with triumphant cries They, from the vanquish'd Greeks, hold all the plain. Nathless do thou, Patroclus, in defence Fall boldly on, lest they with blazing fire Our ships destroy, and hinder our retreat. But hear, and ponder well the end of all I have to say, and so for me obtain Honour and glory in the eyes of Greece; And that the beauteous maiden to my arms They may restore, with costly gifts to boot. The ships reliev'd, return forthwith; and though The Thund'rer, Juno's Lord, should crown thine arms With triumph, be not rash, apart from me, In combat with the warlike sons of Troy; (So should my name in less repute be held;) Nor, in the keen excitement of the fight And slaughter of the Trojans, lead thy troops On tow'rd the city, lest thou find thyself By some one of th' immortal Gods oppos'd; For the far-darting Phoebus loves them well; But when in safety thou hast plac'd the ships, Delay not to return, and leave the rest To battle on the plain: for would to Jove, To Pallas and Apollo, that not one, Or Greek or Trojan, might escape from death, Save only thou and I; that so we two Alone might raze the sacred tow'rs of Troy."