Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/444

So shall thy pity and forbearance give
A weak old man to see the light, and live!"
⁠"Move me no more," Achilles thus replies,
While kindling anger sparkled in his eyes,
"Nor seek by tears my steady soul to bend;
To yield thy Hector I myself intend:
For know, from Jove my goddess mother came;
Old Ocean's daughter, silver-footed dame;
Nor comest thou but by heaven; nor comest alone;
Some god impels with courage not thy own:
No human hand the weighty gates unbarred,
Nor could the boldest of our youth have dared
To pass our outworks, or elude the guard.
Cease; lest, neglectful of high Jove's command,
I shew thee, king! thou treadest on hostile land;
Release my knees, thy suppliant arts give o'er,
And shake the purpose of my soul no more."
⁠The sire obeyed him, trembling and o'erawed.
Achilles, like a lion, rushed abroad;
Automedon and Alcimus attend,
Whom most he honoured, since he lost his friend;
These to unyoke the mules and horses went,
And led the hoary herald to the tent:
Next, heaped on high, the numerous presents bear,
Great Hector's ransom, from the polished car.
Two splendid mantles, and a carpet spread,
They leave, to cover and enwrap the dead:
Then call the handmaids, with assistant toil
To wash the body, and anoint with oil,
Apart from Priam; lest the unhappy sire,
Provoked to passion, once more rouse to ire
The stern Pelides; and nor sacred age,
Nor Jove's command, should check the rising rage.
This done, the garments o'er the corse they spread;
Achilles lifts it to the funeral bed:
Then, while the body on the car they laid,
He groans, and calls on loved Patroclus' shade:
⁠"If, in that gloom which never light must know,
The deeds of mortals touch the ghosts below;
O friend! forgive me, that I thus fulfil,
Restoring Hector, heaven's unquestioned will.
The gifts the father gave, be ever thine,
To grace thy manes, and adorn thy shrine."
⁠He said, and, entering, took his seat of state,
Where full before him reverend Priarn sat:
To whom, composed, the godlike chief begun:
"Lo! to thy prayer restored, thy breathless
Extended on the funeral couch he lies;

And, soon as morning paints the eastern skies,