Ἰλιάδος Ψ

So they lamented through the city; but the Achaeans,

when they had reached the ships and the Hellespont,

They scattered, each man to his own ship,

but Achilles would not let the Myrmidons scatter.

Instead he addressed his war-loving companions:

"Myrmidons, swift with horses, my trusty companions,

let us not yet loose our single-hoofed horses from the chariots,

but with the horses and chariots themselves let us draw near

and mourn Patroclus; for that is the honor due the dead.

But when we have taken our fill of bitter lament,

we shall loose the horses and all take supper here."

So he spoke, and they wailed together, Achilles leading.

Three times around the corpse they drove their lovely-maned horses,

weeping; and among them Thetis stirred desire for lament.

The sands were wet, and wet were the warriors' arms

with tears; so deeply they missed that master of rout.

The son of Peleus led them in the piercing dirge,

laying his man-slaying hands upon his companion's chest

"Farewell, Patroclus, even in the house of Hades.

All that I promised you before I now fulfill:

I shall drag Hector here and give him raw for dogs to tear,

and before your pyre cut the throats of twelve glorious Trojan youths,

in wrath at your death.

So he spoke, and devised shameful treatment for godlike Hector:

he stretched him face down in the dust beside the bier

of Menoetius' son. Each man stripped off his armor,

the gleaming bronze, and loosed the high-necked horses,

and by the ship of the fleet-footed son of Aeacus

they sat in thousands; and he gave them a funeral feast to satisfy the heart.

Many white cattle bellowed around the iron

as they were slaughtered, and many sheep and bleating goats;

and many white-tusked swine, rich with fat,

were singed and stretched across the flame of Hephaestus,

everywhere around the corpse, blood ran deep enough to fill cups.

But the Achaean kings led the lord, the fleet son of Peleus,

to godlike Agamemnon,

persuading him only with effort, for his heart raged over his companion.

When they came on their way to Agamemnon's shelter,

at once they ordered the clear-voiced heralds

to set a great tripod over the fire, in hope they might persuade

the son of Peleus to wash away the bloody gore.

But he refused steadfastly and swore an oath besides:

"No, by Zeus, who is highest and best of the gods,

it is not right for washing-water to come near my head

before I place Patroclus in the fire, heap up his mound,

and cut my hair; for never again will grief like this

reach my heart while I remain among the living.

Yet now let us submit to the hateful feast;

but at dawn, Agamemnon, lord of men, command them

to bring wood and provide all that is fitting

for one who has died to go beneath the misty dark,

so that tireless fire may burn him quickly

from our sight, and the people turn to their work."

So he spoke, and they listened closely and obeyed him.

Each man swiftly made his supper ready,

they feasted, and no heart lacked its share of the fair-shared feast.

But when they had put from them the desire for drink and food,

the others went each to his shelter to lie down,

but the son of Peleus lay on the shore of the loud-roaring sea,

groaning heavily among his many Myrmidons,

in an open place where waves washed over the strand.

When sleep seized him, easing the cares of his heart,

sweet sleep poured around him; for his splendid limbs were utterly weary

from chasing Hector toward windy Ilion,

the shade of poor Patroclus came to him,

like him in every way—in stature and lovely eyes,

and voice—and such clothes were wrapped about his body.

He stood above his head and spoke these words to him:

"You sleep, Achilles, and have become forgetful of me.

You did not neglect me while I lived, but now you do in death.

Bury me with all speed, that I may pass the gates of Hades.

Far off the shades, phantoms of the worn-out dead, keep me,

nor do they yet allow me to mingle beyond the river,

but so I wander beside the wide-gated house of Hades.

Give me your hand; I grieve, for never again

shall I return from Hades once you have given me my share of fire.

For never again alive, apart from our dear companions,

shall we sit and take counsel; but a hateful doom

has opened wide around me, the doom allotted me at birth.

And your own fate too, Achilles, peer of the gods,

is to die beneath the wall of the prosperous Trojans.

One more thing I shall tell and charge you, if you will obey:

do not set my bones apart from yours, Achilles,

but together, as we were reared in your house,

when Menoetius brought me, still a little child, from Opoeis

to your home because of a grievous killing,

on the day when I killed Amphidamas' son,

foolishly and unwillingly, angered over knucklebones.

Then Peleus the horseman received me in his halls,

reared me with care, and named me your attendant.

So may one urn enfold the bones of us both,

the golden two-handled jar your queenly mother gave you."

Then swift-footed Achilles answered him and said:

"Why, dear heart, have you come here

and laid each of these commands upon me? I shall indeed

fulfill them all and obey as you command.

But stand nearer; for a little while let us embrace

one another and take our fill of bitter lament."

So speaking, he reached out with loving hands,

but grasped nothing; the shade went down beneath the earth like smoke,

shrilling as it vanished. Achilles sprang up in amazement,

clapped his hands together, and spoke a sorrowful word:

"Ah, then even in the house of Hades there remains

a shade and phantom, though there is no mind in it at all.

All night the shade of poor Patroclus

stood over me, mourning and weeping,

and charged me with each thing; it looked wondrously like him."

So he spoke, and stirred in them all a longing for lament.