The Iliad of Homer

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Thus was the head of Hector being dishonoured in the dust. His
mother tore her hair, and flung her veil from her with a loud cry
as she looked upon her son. His father made piteous moan, and
throughout the city the people fell to weeping and wailing. It
was as though the whole of frowning Ilius was being smirched with
fire. Hardly could the people hold Priam back in his hot haste to
rush without the gates of the city. He grovelled in the mire and
besought them, calling each one of them by his name. "Let be, my
friends," he cried, "and for all your sorrow, suffer me to go
single-handed to the ships of the Achaeans. Let me beseech this
cruel and terrible man, if maybe he will respect the feeling of
his fellow-men, and have compassion on my old age. His own father
is even such another as myself--Peleus, who bred him and reared
him to be the bane of us Trojans, and of myself more than of all
others. Many a son of mine has he slain in the flower of his
youth, and yet, grieve for these as I may, I do so for one--
Hector--more than for them all, and the bitterness of my sorrow
will bring me down to the house of Hades. Would that he had died
in my arms, for so both his ill-starred mother who bore him, and
myself, should have had the comfort of weeping and mourning over
him."

Thus did he speak with many tears, and all the people of the city
joined in his lament. Hecuba then raised the cry of wailing among
the Trojans. "Alas, my son," she cried, "what have I left to live
for now that you are no more? Night and day did I glory in you
throughout the city, for you were a tower of strength to all in
Troy, and both men and women alike hailed you as a god. So long
as you lived you were their pride, but now death and destruction
have fallen upon you."

Hector's wife had as yet heard nothing, for no one had come to
tell her that her husband had remained without the gates. She was
at her loom in an inner part of the house, weaving a double
purple web, and embroidering it with many flowers. She told her
maids to set a large tripod on the fire, so as to have a warm
bath ready for Hector when he came out of battle; poor woman, she
knew not that he was now beyond the reach of baths, and that
Minerva had laid him low by the hands of Achilles. She heard the
cry coming as from the wall, and trembled in every limb; the
shuttle fell from her hands, and again she spoke to her
waiting-women. "Two of you," she said, "come with me that I may
learn what it is that has befallen; I heard the voice of my
husband's honoured mother; my own heart beats as though it would
come into my mouth and my limbs refuse to carry me; some great
misfortune for Priam's children must be at hand. May I never live
to hear it, but I greatly fear that Achilles has cut off the
retreat of brave Hector and has chased him on to the plain where
he was singlehanded; I fear he may have put an end to the
reckless daring which possessed my husband, who would never
remain with the body of his men, but would dash on far in front,
foremost of them all in valour."

Her heart beat fast, and as she spoke she flew from the house
like a maniac, with her waiting-women following after. When she
reached the battlements and the crowd of people, she stood
looking out upon the wall, and saw Hector being borne away in
front of the city--the horses dragging him without heed or care
over the ground towards the ships of the Achaeans. Her eyes were
then shrouded as with the darkness of night and she fell fainting
backwards. She tore the attiring from her head and flung it from
her, the frontlet and net with its plaited band, and the veil
which golden Venus had given her on the day when Hector took her
with him from the house of Eetion, after having given countless
gifts of wooing for her sake. Her husband's sisters and the wives
of his brothers crowded round her and supported her, for she was
fain to die in her distraction; when she again presently breathed
and came to herself, she sobbed and made lament among the Trojans
saying, "Woe is me, O Hector; woe, indeed, that to share a common
lot we were born, you at Troy in the house of Priam, and I at
Thebes under the wooded mountain of Placus in the house of Eetion
who brought me up when I was a child--ill-starred sire of an
ill-starred daughter--would that he had never begotten me. You
are now going into the house of Hades under the secret places of
the earth, and you leave me a sorrowing widow in your house. The
child, of whom you and I are the unhappy parents, is as yet a
mere infant. Now that you are gone, O Hector, you can do nothing
for him nor he for you. Even though he escape the horrors of this
woeful war with the Achaeans, yet shall his life henceforth be
one of labour and sorrow, for others will seize his lands. The
day that robs a child of his parents severs him from his own
kind; his head is bowed, his cheeks are wet with tears, and he
will go about destitute among the friends of his father, plucking
one by the cloak and another by the shirt. Some one or other of
these may so far pity him as to hold the cup for a moment towards
him and let him moisten his lips, but he must not drink enough to
wet the roof of his mouth; then one whose parents are alive will
drive him from the table with blows and angry words. 'Out with
you,' he will say, 'you have no father here,' and the child will
go crying back to his widowed mother--he, Astyanax, who erewhile
would sit upon his father's knees, and have none but the
daintiest and choicest morsels set before him. When he had played
till he was tired and went to sleep, he would lie in a bed, in
the arms of his nurse, on a soft couch, knowing neither want nor
care, whereas now that he has lost his father his lot will be
full of hardship--he, whom the Trojans name Astyanax, because
you, O Hector, were the only defence of their gates and
battlements. The wriggling writhing worms will now eat you at the
ships, far from your parents, when the dogs have glutted
themselves upon you. You will lie naked, although in your house
you have fine and goodly raiment made by hands of women. This
will I now burn; it is of no use to you, for you can never again
wear it, and thus you will have respect shown you by the Trojans
both men and women."

In such wise did she cry aloud amid her tears, and the women
joined in her lament.

BOOK XXIII

The funeral of Patroclus, and the funeral games.

Thus did they make their moan throughout the city, while the
Achaeans when they reached the Hellespont went back every man to
his own ship. But Achilles would not let the Myrmidons go, and
spoke to his brave comrades saying, "Myrmidons, famed horsemen
and my own trusted friends, not yet, forsooth, let us unyoke, but
with horse and chariot draw near to the body and mourn Patroclus,
in due honour to the dead. When we have had full comfort of
lamentation we will unyoke our horses and take supper all of us
here."

On this they all joined in a cry of wailing and Achilles led them
in their lament. Thrice did they drive their chariots all
sorrowing round the body, and Thetis stirred within them a still
deeper yearning. The sands of the seashore and the men's armour
were wet with their weeping, so great a minister of fear was he
whom they had lost. Chief in all their mourning was the son of
Peleus: he laid his bloodstained hand on the breast of his
friend. "Fare well," he cried, "Patroclus, even in the house of
Hades. I will now do all that I erewhile promised you; I will
drag Hector hither and let dogs devour him raw; twelve noble sons
of Trojans will I also slay before your pyre to avenge you."

As he spoke he treated the body of noble Hector with contumely,
laying it at full length in the dust beside the bier of
Patroclus. The others then put off every man his armour, took the
horses from their chariots, and seated themselves in great
multitude by the ship of the fleet descendant of Aeacus, who
thereon feasted them with an abundant funeral banquet. Many a
goodly ox, with many a sheep and bleating goat did they butcher
and cut up; many a tusked boar moreover, fat and well-fed, did
they singe and set to roast in the flames of Vulcan; and rivulets
of blood flowed all round the place where the body was lying.

Then the princes of the Achaeans took the son of Peleus to
Agamemnon, but hardly could they persuade him to come with them,
so wroth was he for the death of his comrade. As soon as they
reached Agamemnon's tent they told the serving-men to set a large
tripod over the fire in case they might persuade the son of
Peleus to wash the clotted gore from this body, but he denied
them sternly, and swore it with a solemn oath, saying, "Nay, by
King Jove, first and mightiest of all gods, it is not meet that
water should touch my body, till I have laid Patroclus on the
flames, have built him a barrow, and shaved my head--for so long
as I live no such second sorrow shall ever draw nigh me. Now,
therefore, let us do all that this sad festival demands, but at
break of day, King Agamemnon, bid your men bring wood, and
provide all else that the dead may duly take into the realm of
darkness; the fire shall thus burn him out of our sight the
sooner, and the people shall turn again to their own labours."

Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said. They made
haste to prepare the meal, they ate, and every man had his full
share so that all were satisfied. As soon as they had had enough
to eat and drink, the others went to their rest each in his own
tent, but the son of Peleus lay grieving among his Myrmidons by
the shore of the sounding sea, in an open place where the waves
came surging in one after another. Here a very deep slumber took
hold upon him and eased the burden of his sorrows, for his limbs
were weary with chasing Hector round windy Ilius. Presently the
sad spirit of Patroclus drew near him, like what he had been in
stature, voice, and the light of his beaming eyes, clad, too, as
he had been clad in life. The spirit hovered over his head and
said--

"You sleep, Achilles, and have forgotten me; you loved me living,
but now that I am dead you think for me no further. Bury me with
all speed that I may pass the gates of Hades; the ghosts, vain
shadows of men that can labour no more, drive me away from them;
they will not yet suffer me to join those that are beyond the
river, and I wander all desolate by the wide gates of the house
of Hades. Give me now your hand I pray you, for when you have
once given me my dues of fire, never shall I again come forth out
of the house of Hades. Nevermore shall we sit apart and take
sweet counsel among the living; the cruel fate which was my
birth-right has yawned its wide jaws around me--nay, you too
Achilles, peer of gods, are doomed to die beneath the wall of the
noble Trojans.

"One prayer more will I make you, if you will grant it; let not
my bones be laid apart from yours, Achilles, but with them; even
as we were brought up together in your own home, what time
Menoetius brought me to you as a child from Opoeis because by a
sad spite I had killed the son of Amphidamas--not of set purpose,
but in childish quarrel over the dice. The knight Peleus took me
into his house, entreated me kindly, and named me to be your
squire; therefore let our bones lie in but a single urn, the
two-handled golden vase given to you by your mother."

And Achilles answered, "Why, true heart, are you come hither to
lay these charges upon me? will of my own self do all as you have
bidden me. Draw closer to me, let us once more throw our arms
around one another, and find sad comfort in the sharing of our
sorrows."

He opened his arms towards him as he spoke and would have clasped
him in them, but there was nothing, and the spirit vanished as a
vapour, gibbering and whining into the earth. Achilles sprang to
his feet, smote his two hands, and made lamentation saying, "Of a
truth even in the house of Hades there are ghosts and phantoms
that have no life in them; all night long the sad spirit of
Patroclus has hovered over head making piteous moan, telling me
what I am to do for him, and looking wondrously like himself."

Thus did he speak and his words set them all weeping and mourning
about the poor dumb dead, till rosy-fingered morn appeared. Then
King Agamemnon sent men and mules from all parts of the camp, to
bring wood, and Meriones, squire to Idomeneus, was in charge over
them. They went out with woodmen's axes and strong ropes in their
hands, and before them went the mules. Up hill and down dale did
they go, by straight ways and crooked, and when they reached the
heights of many-fountained Ida, they laid their axes to the roots
of many a tall branching oak that came thundering down as they
felled it. They split the trees and bound them behind the mules,
which then wended their way as they best could through the thick
brushwood on to the plain. All who had been cutting wood bore
logs, for so Meriones squire to Idomeneus had bidden them, and
they threw them down in a line upon the seashore at the place
where Achilles would make a mighty monument for Patroclus and for
himself.

When they had thrown down their great logs of wood over the whole
ground, they stayed all of them where they were, but Achilles
ordered his brave Myrmidons to gird on their armour, and to yoke
each man his horses; they therefore rose, girded on their armour
and mounted each his chariot--they and their charioteers with
them. The chariots went before, and they that were on foot
followed as a cloud in their tens of thousands after. In the
midst of them his comrades bore Patroclus and covered him with
the locks of their hair which they cut off and threw upon his
body. Last came Achilles with his head bowed for sorrow, so noble
a comrade was he taking to the house of Hades.

When they came to the place of which Achilles had told them they
laid the body down and built up the wood. Achilles then bethought
him of another matter. He went a space away from the pyre, and
cut off the yellow lock which he had let grow for the river
Spercheius. He looked all sorrowfully out upon the dark sea, and
said, "Spercheius, in vain did my father Peleus vow to you that
when I returned home to my loved native land I should cut off
this lock and offer you a holy hecatomb; fifty she-goats was I to
sacrifice to you there at your springs, where is your grove and
your altar fragrant with burnt-offerings. Thus did my father vow,
but you have not fulfilled his prayer; now, therefore, that I
shall see my home no more, I give this lock as a keepsake to the
hero Patroclus."

As he spoke he placed the lock in the hands of his dear comrade,
and all who stood by were filled with yearning and lamentation.
The sun would have gone down upon their mourning had not Achilles
presently said to Agamemnon, "Son of Atreus, for it is to you
that the people will give ear, there is a time to mourn and a
time to cease from mourning; bid the people now leave the pyre
and set about getting their dinners: we, to whom the dead is
dearest, will see to what is wanted here, and let the other
princes also stay by me."

When King Agamemnon heard this he dismissed the people to their
ships, but those who were about the dead heaped up wood and built
a pyre a hundred feet this way and that; then they laid the dead
all sorrowfully upon the top of it. They flayed and dressed many
fat sheep and oxen before the pyre, and Achilles took fat from
all of them and wrapped the body therein from head to foot,
heaping the flayed carcases all round it. Against the bier he
leaned two-handled jars of honey and unguents; four proud horses
did he then cast upon the pyre, groaning the while he did so. The
dead hero had had house-dogs; two of them did Achilles slay and
threw upon the pyre; he also put twelve brave sons of noble
Trojans to the sword and laid them with the rest, for he was full
of bitterness and fury. Then he committed all to the resistless
and devouring might of the fire; he groaned aloud and called on
his dead comrade by name. "Fare well," he cried, "Patroclus, even
in the house of Hades; I am now doing all that I have promised
you. Twelve brave sons of noble Trojans shall the flames consume
along with yourself, but dogs, not fire, shall devour the flesh
of Hector son of Priam."

Thus did he vaunt, but the dogs came not about the body of
Hector, for Jove's daughter Venus kept them off him night and
day, and anointed him with ambrosial oil of roses that his flesh
might not be torn when Achilles was dragging him about. Phoebus
Apollo moreover sent a dark cloud from heaven to earth, which
gave shade to the whole place where Hector lay, that the heat of
the sun might not parch his body.

Now the pyre about dead Patroclus would not kindle. Achilles
therefore bethought him of another matter; he went apart and
prayed to the two winds Boreas and Zephyrus vowing them goodly
offerings. He made them many drink-offerings from the golden cup
and besought them to come and help him that the wood might make
haste to kindle and the dead bodies be consumed. Fleet Iris heard
him praying and started off to fetch the winds. They were holding
high feast in the house of boisterous Zephyrus when Iris came
running up to the stone threshold of the house and stood there,
but as soon as they set eyes on her they all came towards her and
each of them called her to him, but Iris would not sit down. "I
cannot stay," she said, "I must go back to the streams of Oceanus
and the land of the Ethiopians who are offering hecatombs to the
immortals, and I would have my share; but Achilles prays that
Boreas and shrill Zephyrus will come to him, and he vows them
goodly offerings; he would have you blow upon the pyre of
Patroclus for whom all the Achaeans are lamenting."

With this she left them, and the two winds rose with a cry that
rent the air and swept the clouds before them. They blew on and
on until they came to the sea, and the waves rose high beneath
them, but when they reached Troy they fell upon the pyre till the
mighty flames roared under the blast that they blew. All night
long did they blow hard and beat upon the fire, and all night
long did Achilles grasp his double cup, drawing wine from a
mixing-bowl of gold, and calling upon the spirit of dead
Patroclus as he poured it upon the ground until the earth was
drenched. As a father mourns when he is burning the bones of his
bridegroom son whose death has wrung the hearts of his parents,
even so did Achilles mourn while burning the body of his comrade,
pacing round the bier with piteous groaning and lamentation.

At length as the Morning Star was beginning to herald the light
which saffron-mantled Dawn was soon to suffuse over the sea, the
flames fell and the fire began to die. The winds then went home
beyond the Thracian sea, which roared and boiled as they swept
over it. The son of Peleus now turned away from the pyre and lay
down, overcome with toil, till he fell into a sweet slumber.
Presently they who were about the son of Atreus drew near in a
body, and roused him with the noise and tramp of their coming. He
sat upright and said, "Son of Atreus, and all other princes of
the Achaeans, first pour red wine everywhere upon the fire and
quench it; let us then gather the bones of Patroclus son of
Menoetius, singling them out with care; they are easily found,
for they lie in the middle of the pyre, while all else, both men
and horses, has been thrown in a heap and burned at the outer
edge. We will lay the bones in a golden urn, in two layers of
fat, against the time when I shall myself go down into the house
of Hades. As for the barrow, labour not to raise a great one now,
but such as is reasonable. Afterwards, let those Achaeans who may
be left at the ships when I am gone, build it both broad and
high."

Thus he spoke and they obeyed the word of the son of Peleus.
First they poured red wine upon the thick layer of ashes and
quenched the fire. With many tears they singled out the whitened
bones of their loved comrade and laid them within a golden urn in
two layers of fat: they then covered the urn with a linen cloth
and took it inside the tent. They marked off the circle where the
barrow should be, made a foundation for it about the pyre, and
forthwith heaped up the earth. When they had thus raised a mound
they were going away, but Achilles stayed the people and made
them sit in assembly. He brought prizes from the ships--cauldrons,
tripods, horses and mules, noble oxen, women with fair girdles,
and swart iron.

The first prize he offered was for the chariot races--a woman
skilled in all useful arts, and a three-legged cauldron that had
ears for handles, and would hold twenty-two measures. This was
for the man who came in first. For the second there was a
six-year old mare, unbroken, and in foal to a he-ass; the third
was to have a goodly cauldron that had never yet been on the
fire; it was still bright as when it left the maker, and would
hold four measures. The fourth prize was two talents of gold, and
the fifth a two-handled urn as yet unsoiled by smoke. Then he
stood up and spoke among the Argives saying--

"Son of Atreus, and all other Achaeans, these are the prizes that
lie waiting the winners of the chariot races. At any other time I
should carry off the first prize and take it to my own tent; you
know how far my steeds excel all others--for they are immortal;
Neptune gave them to my father Peleus, who in his turn gave them
to myself; but I shall hold aloof, I and my steeds that have lost
their brave and kind driver, who many a time has washed them in
clear water and anointed their manes with oil. See how they stand
weeping here, with their manes trailing on the ground in the
extremity of their sorrow. But do you others set yourselves in
order throughout the host, whosoever has confidence in his horses
and in the strength of his chariot."

Thus spoke the son of Peleus and the drivers of chariots
bestirred themselves. First among them all uprose Eumelus, king
of men, son of Admetus, a man excellent in horsemanship. Next to
him rose mighty Diomed son of Tydeus; he yoked the Trojan horses
which he had taken from Aeneas, when Apollo bore him out of the
fight. Next to him, yellow-haired Menelaus son of Atreus rose and
yoked his fleet horses, Agamemnon's mare Aethe, and his own horse
Podargus. The mare had been given to Agamemnon by Echepolus son
of Anchises, that he might not have to follow him to Ilius, but
might stay at home and take his ease; for Jove had endowed him
with great wealth and he lived in spacious Sicyon. This mare, all
eager for the race, did Menelaus put under the yoke.

Fourth in order Antilochus, son to noble Nestor son of Neleus,
made ready his horses. These were bred in Pylos, and his father
came up to him to give him good advice of which, however, he
stood in but little need. "Antilochus," said Nestor, "you are
young, but Jove and Neptune have loved you well, and have made
you an excellent horseman. I need not therefore say much by way
of instruction. You are skilful at wheeling your horses round the
post, but the horses themselves are very slow, and it is this
that will, I fear, mar your chances. The other drivers know less
than you do, but their horses are fleeter; therefore, my dear
son, see if you cannot hit upon some artifice whereby you may
insure that the prize shall not slip through your fingers. The
woodman does more by skill than by brute force; by skill the
pilot guides his storm-tossed barque over the sea, and so by
skill one driver can beat another. If a man go wide in rounding
this way and that, whereas a man who knows what he is doing may
have worse horses, but he will keep them well in hand when he
sees the doubling-post; he knows the precise moment at which to
pull the rein, and keeps his eye well on the man in front of him.
I will give you this certain token which cannot escape your
notice. There is a stump of a dead tree--oak or pine as it may
be--some six feet above the ground, and not yet rotted away by
rain; it stands at the fork of the road; it has two white stones
set one on each side, and there is a clear course all round it.
It may have been a monument to some one long since dead, or it
may have been used as a doubling-post in days gone by; now,
however, it has been fixed on by Achilles as the mark round which
the chariots shall turn; hug it as close as you can, but as you
stand in your chariot lean over a little to the left; urge on
your right-hand horse with voice and lash, and give him a loose
rein, but let the left-hand horse keep so close in, that the nave
of your wheel shall almost graze the post; but mind the stone, or
you will wound your horses and break your chariot in pieces,
which would be sport for others but confusion for yourself.
Therefore, my dear son, mind well what you are about, for if you
can be first to round the post there is no chance of any one
giving you the go-by later, not even though you had Adrestus's
horse Arion behind you--a horse which is of divine race--or those
of Laomedon, which are the noblest in this country."

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