Book 18

So they fought on, in the very likeness of blazing fire;and swift-footed Antilochus came as a messenger to Achilles.He found him before the high-prowed ships,pondering in his heart the things that had been accomplished;and groaning, he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:"Ah me, why again are the long-haired Achaeansdriven in rout along the ships, panic-stricken over the plain?May the gods not fulfil for me the grievous cares in my heart,as once my mother declared to me and told me:that the best of the Myrmidons, while I yet live,would fall by Trojan hands and leave the light of the sun.Surely the valiant son of Menoetius is dead,the stubborn one; yet I bade him, when he had thrust back the enemy fire,to come again to the ships, and not to fight Hector in his strength.While he was turning these things over in mind and spirit,meanwhile the son of glorious Nestor came near him,shedding hot tears, and he spoke his grievous message:"Ah me, son of warlike Peleus, surely of a bittermessage you shall hear, which ought never to have come to pass.Patroclus lies dead, and they do battle about the corpse,naked; but his armour helmet-flashing Hector holds."So he spoke, and a black cloud of grief covered him;and with both hands he took the sooty dustand poured it over his head, and defiled his comely face;and on his fragrant tunic the black ashes settled.And he himself in the dust, huge, hugely stretched out,lay; and with his own hands he defiled his hair, tearing it.And the slave women, whom Achilles and Patroclus had taken,wailed aloud, hearts stricken with grief, and out of doorsthey ran about warlike Achilles, and with their hands allbeat their breasts, and the limbs of each were loosened.And Antilochus on the other side lamented, shedding tears,holding the hands of Achilles; and he groaned in his noble heart;for he feared lest he should cut his throat with the iron.Dreadfully he cried out; and his queenly mother heard him,as she sat in the depths of the sea beside her old father,and she wailed thereafter; and the goddesses gathered about her,all the Nereids that were in the depth of the sea.There was Glauce, Thaleia, Cymodoce,Nesaea, Speio, Thoe, and ox-eyed Halia,Cymothoe, Actaea, Limnoreia,and Melite, and Iaira, and Amphithoe, and Agave,Doto, Proto, Pherousa, Dynamene,Dexamene, Amphinome, Callianeira,Doris, Panope, and famous Galatea,Nemertes, Apseudes, Callianassa;there was Clymene, Ianeira, Ianassa,Maera, Oreithyia, and fair-tressed Amathia,and the other Nereids that were in the depth of the sea.And their cave was filled with them, gleaming silver; and all togetherthey beat their breasts, and Thetis led the lamentation:"Hear me, sister Nereids, that all of you mayknow well, hearing, how many griefs are in my heart.Ah me, wretched that I am, ah me, ill-fated mother of the best,who once bore a son blameless and strong,outstanding among heroes; and he shot up like a sapling;whom I nurtured like a young plant on the hill of an orchard,and sent forth in the curved ships to Ilios,to fight the Trojans; and I shall not welcome him backreturning home to the house of Peleus.And while he lives and sees the light of the sun,he grieves, and I can do nothing to help him by going to him.But I will go, that I may see my dear child, and hearwhat grief has come upon him as he waits apart from the war."So speaking, she left the cave; and with herthe others went in tears, and the wave of the seabroke around them; and when they came to fertile Troy,they stepped ashore in order, where in close ranksthe ships of the Myrmidons were drawn up about swift Achilles.And to him, heavily groaning, the queenly mother stood near,and with a shrill cry she took the head of her own son,and lamenting she addressed him with winged words:"Child, why do you weep? What grief has come to your heart?Speak out, do not hide it; for these things have been accomplishedfor you by Zeus, as indeed you prayed before, lifting up your hands,that all the sons of the Achaeans should be crowded at the sterns,lacking you, and should suffer unseemly deeds."And to her, heavily groaning, swift-footed Achilles spoke:"My mother, these things the Olympian has indeed accomplished for me;but what joy are they to me, when my dear companion has perished,Patroclus, whom I honoured above all my companions,equal to my own head? I have lost him, and Hectorhas slain and stripped from him the monstrous armour, a marvel to behold,beautiful; which the gods gave to Peleus as shining giftson the day when they cast you into the bed of a mortal man.Would that you had stayed there among the immortal sea-maidens,and Peleus had wed a mortal wife.But now, that you too may have grief beyond measure in your heartfor your son who has perished, whom you shall not welcome backreturning home; since my own spirit does not bid melive, nor dwell among men, unless Hectorfirst, struck by my spear, lose his life,and pay the price for Patroclus, son of Menoetius."And Thetis spoke to him again, shedding a tear:"Swift-fated you shall be for me, my child, by what you say;for straightway after Hector death is ready for you."And greatly vexed, swift-footed Achilles answered her:"May I die at once, since I was not to help my companionwhen he was slain; and he perished far from his homeland,and I was not there to be a defence against ruin.But now, since I am not returning to my dear native land,and I was no light to Patroclus, nor to the othercompanions, who in great numbers were slain by noble Hector,but I sit by the ships, a useless burden upon the earth,being such as no other of the bronze-clad Achaeansis in war; and in the assembly others are better.So may strife perish from gods and from men,and wrath, which drives even the thoughtful man to rage,which, far sweeter than honey dripping down,swells in the breasts of men like smoke;so Agamemnon, king of men, has now enraged me.But these things we shall let be, grieved as we are,having subdued our own dear spirit within our breasts by necessity;but now I go, that I may overtake the destroyer of my dear head,Hector; and I shall receive my fate wheneverZeus wishes to accomplish it, and the other immortal gods.For not even the might of Heracles escaped death,who was dearest to Zeus, lord, son of Cronus;but his fate subdued him, and the grievous wrath of Hera.So I too, if a like fate is appointed for me,shall lie still when I have died; but now let me win good glory,and make some one of the Trojan and deep-bosomed Dardanian womenwith both hands over her tender cheekswipe away her tears and groan aloud,and let them know that I have long ceased from war.Do not hold me back from battle, dear as you are; you will not persuade me."Then the goddess Thetis of the silver feet answered him:"Yes, my child, these things are true and no evil,to ward off steep destruction from companions in distress.But your beautiful armour is among the Trojans,bronze and gleaming; and helmet-flashing Hectorhimself glories in it, bearing it on his shoulders; yet I sayhe shall not glory in it long, since slaughter is near him.But do you not yet go down into the press of Aresbefore you see me come here before your eyes;for at dawn I shall return with the rising sun,bringing beautiful armour from lord Hephaestus."So speaking, she turned back from her own son,and turning, she spoke to her sea sisters:"You now go down into the wide bosom of the seato see the old man of the sea and the house of your father,and tell him everything; and I will go to steep Olympus,to Hephaestus the renowned craftsman, if he is willingto give my son glorious gleaming armour."So she spoke, and they straightway went down beneath the wave of the sea;but the goddess Thetis of the silver feet, she againwent toward Olympus, that she might bring her dear son glorious armour.Her feet bore her to Olympus; but the Achaeanswith a wondrous cry, before murderous Hectorfleeing, came to the ships and the Hellespont.And not even Patroclus would the well-greaved Achaeanshave dragged out of the missiles, the corpse of Achilles' companion;for again the host and horses overtook him,and Hector, son of Priam, like a flame in his valour.Three times famous Hector seized him from behind by the feet,eager to drag him away, and shouted loudly to the Trojans;three times the two Ajaxes, clad in furious valour,thrust him back from the corpse; and he, firmly trusting in his strength,now rushed upon them through the battle, now againstood still, crying aloud; and he did not give way at all.As from a body herdsmen in the fields cannotdrive off a tawny lion greatly hungering,so the two helmeted Ajaxes could notdrive Hector, son of Priam, away from the corpse.And now he would have dragged him away and won boundless glory,had not swift Iris, wind-footed, come to the son of Peleusas messenger, running from Olympus, to arm himself,secretly from Zeus and the other gods; for Hera sent her.Standing near, she spoke winged words:"Rise up, son of Peleus, most terrible of all men;help Patroclus, for whose sake the dread battlestands before the ships; and they destroy one another,some defending the dead corpse,and others eager to drag it to windy Ilios,the Trojans rushing on; and most of all famous Hectoris eager to drag it away; and his heart bids himto fix the head on stakes, having cut it from the tender neck.But rise up, and lie no longer; let shame come to your heartthat Patroclus should become a plaything for Trojan dogs;it is a disgrace to you, if the corpse comes back dishonoured."Then swift-footed shining Achilles answered her:"Iris, goddess, who of the gods sent you to me as messenger?"And again wind-footed swift Iris spoke to him:"Hera sent me, the glorious wife of Zeus;and the son of Cronus, high-throned, does not know, nor any otherof the immortals who dwell about snowy Olympus."And answering her, swift-footed Achilles spoke:"How then shall I go into the press? They hold the armour;and my dear mother did not allow me to arm myself beforeI see her with my own eyes coming here;for she promised to bring beautiful armour from Hephaestus.And I know no other man whose glorious armour I might put on,except the shield of Ajax, son of Telamon.But even he, I think, is among the foremost,dealing death with his spear about dead Patroclus."Again wind-footed swift Iris spoke to him:"We too know well that your glorious armour is held;but just go to the trench and show yourself to the Trojans,in case the Trojans, fearing you, hold back from battle,and the warlike sons of the Achaeans may breathe againin their distress; and there is a little breathing space from war."So she spoke and departed, swift-footed Iris;but Achilles rose, dear to Zeus; and about him Athenacast her tasselled aegis over his mighty shoulders,and about his head the shining goddess wreathed a cloudof gold, and from it she kindled a gleaming flame.As when smoke rising from a city reaches the upper airfrom afar, from an island which enemies beset,who all day long contend in hateful warfrom their own city; and at sunsetbeacon fires blaze in close array, and the light goes updarting high for the neighbours to see,in case with their ships they come as helpers against the war;so from the head of Achilles the light reached the upper air.He went and stood on the trench, away from the wall, and did notmix with the Achaeans; for he respected his mother's strict command.Standing there he shouted, and apart from him Pallas Athenacried aloud; but among the Trojans she roused boundless confusion.As when the piercing sound of a trumpet rings outaround a city beset by spirit-destroying foes,so then piercing was the voice of the son of Aeacus.And when they heard the brazen voice of the son of Aeacus,the spirit of all was shaken; and the fair-maned horseswheeled the chariots back; for they foresaw sorrow in their hearts.The charioteers were amazed, when they saw the untiring fireterrible above the head of the great-hearted son of Peleusblazing; and the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, kindled it.Three times over the trench great Achilles shouted,three times the Trojans and their famed allies were thrown into confusion.There and then twelve of their best men perishedabout their own chariots and spears. But the Achaeansgladly dragged Patroclus out from under the missilesand laid him on a bier; and his dear companions stood aboutmourning; and among them swift Achilles followedshedding hot tears, when he saw his trusted companionlying on the bier, mangled by the sharp bronze,whom indeed he had sent with horses and chariotto war, and did not receive back returning.And the sun, untiring, ox-eyed queenly Herasent to go unwillingly down into the streams of Ocean;the sun set, and the noble Achaeans ceasedfrom the fierce battle and the equal war.And the Trojans on the other side, from the strong encounterwithdrawing, loosed the swift horses under their chariots,and gathered into assembly before thinking of dinner.The assembly was of men standing upright, and no one daredto sit; for trembling held them all, because Achilleshad appeared, and he had long ceased from grievous war.Among them prudent Polydamas, son of Panthous, began to speak;for he alone saw both before and behind;and he was a companion of Hector, and they were born on the same night,but one excelled in counsel, the other far in the spear.He, well-minded, spoke among them and said:"Think carefully, my friends; for I for my part urgethat now we go to the city, and not wait for shining dawnon the plain beside the ships; for we are far from the wall.While this man was angered against shining Agamemnon,so long the Achaeans were easier to fight;for I used to rejoice, sleeping beside the swift ships,hoping that we would take the curved ships.But now I dread terribly the swift-footed son of Peleus;so overbearing is that man's spirit, he will not be willingto wait on the plain, where Trojans and Achaeansboth in the midst divide the fury of Ares,but he will fight for the city and the women.But let us go to the city, obey me; for thus it shall be:now night has stopped the swift-footed son of Peleus,immortal night; but if tomorrow he comes upon us heresetting out with his armour, then someone will surelyknow him; for he will gladly come to sacred Ilioswho escapes; but many of the Trojans dogs and vultures will eat;may such a thing never come to my ear.But if we obey my words, though we are anxious,during the night we shall keep our strength in assembly, and the wallsand the high gates and the planks fitted on them,long and well-planed and bolted, shall protect the city;but at dawn, early, armed with our armour,we shall stand on the walls; and it will be the worse for him, if he wishesto come from the ships and fight with us about the wall.He will go back again to the ships, when he has driven his strong-necked horsesweary with every kind of running, as he ranges beneath the city;but his spirit will not let him rush inside,nor will he ever sack it; before that the swift dogs will eat him."And looking at him from under his brows, helmet-flashing Hector spoke:"Polydamas, you no longer speak things dear to me,you who bid us go back and gather in the city.Are you not yet sated with being penned inside the towers?For before, all mortal men spoke of the city of Priamas rich in gold, rich in bronze;but now the beautiful treasures have perished from its houses,and many possessions have gone to be sold in Phrygia and lovely Maeonia,since great Zeus was angered.But now, when the son of crooked-counselled Cronus has given meto win glory by the ships, and to pen the Achaeans against the sea,fool, no longer show such thoughts among the people;for no Trojan will obey you; nor shall I allow it.But come, let us all obey as I shall say.Now take your dinner throughout the army by companies,and remember the watch, and let each man keep awake;and of the Trojans, whoever is over-proud and vexed about his possessions,let him gather them and give them to the people to devour;it is better for one of them to profit than for the Achaeans.But at dawn, early, armed with our armour,let us waken sharp Ares against the hollow ships.And if in truth shining Achilles has risen up from the ships,it will be the worse for him, if he wishes it; I for one will notflee from the dolorous war, but I shall standright against him, and either he bears away great victory, or I bear it.Enyalius is common to both, and he kills the one who would kill."So Hector spoke, and the Trojans shouted in assent,fools; for Pallas Athena took away their wits.For they praised Hector for counselling evil,but no one praised Polydamas for his good advice.Then they took dinner throughout the army; but the Achaeansall night long groaned and lamented for Patroclus.And among them the son of Peleus led the ceaseless lament,laying his murderous hands on the breast of his companion,groaning thick and fast, like a well-maned lionwhose cubs a hunter has snatched from under himout of the thick wood; and he grieves, coming too late,and he ranges over many glens, tracking the man's footsteps,in case he may find him somewhere; for sharp anger seizes him;so he, heavily groaning, spoke to the Myrmidons:"Ah, surely I spoke a vain word on that daywhen I encouraged the hero Menoetius in his halls;for I said I would bring his famous son back to Opoeishaving sacked Ilios, and having won his share of the spoil.But Zeus does not fulfil all the thoughts of men;for it is fated for both of us to redden the same earthhere in Troy, since not even me, returned,will the old horseman Peleus receive in his halls,nor my mother Thetis, but here the earth will hold me.But now, Patroclus, since I am going under the earth after you,I shall not perform your funeral rites before I bring here Hector'sarmour and head, the head of your great-hearted slayer;and before the pyre I shall cut the throats of twelveglorious children of the Trojans, angered for your death.Meanwhile you shall lie beside the curved ships just as you are,and about you Trojan and deep-bosomed Dardanian womenshall weep, shedding tears night and day,whom we ourselves won by our strength and the long spearwhen we sacked the rich cities of mortal men."So speaking, shining Achilles called to his companionsto set a great tripod about the fire, so that as quickly as possiblethey might wash Patroclus of the bloody gore.And they set a bath-tripod on the blazing fire,and poured water into it, and kindled wood beneath, taking it up.The fire wrapped the belly of the tripod, and the water grew warm;but when the water boiled in the shining bronze,then they washed him and anointed him thickly with oil,and filled his wounds with nine-year ointment;and laying him on a bier they covered him with a soft linen clothfrom head to feet, and over it with a white mantle.All night long then about swift-footed Achillesthe Myrmidons groaned and lamented for Patroclus.And Zeus spoke to Hera, his sister and his wife:"You have done it, then, ox-eyed queenly Hera,by rousing swift-footed Achilles; surely the long-haired Achaeansare born of you yourself."Then ox-eyed queenly Hera answered him:"Most dread son of Cronus, what a word you have spoken.Surely some mortal man may intend to accomplish something for a man,one who is but mortal and knows no such counsels;how then should I, who claim to be the best of goddesses,both in birth and because I am called your wife,and you rule among all the immortals,not have woven evil for the Trojans in my anger?"So they spoke such things to one another;and Thetis of the silver feet came to the house of Hephaestus,imperishable, starry, conspicuous among the immortals,of bronze, which the crook-footed god himself had built.She found him sweating, turning about his bellows,busy; for he was fashioning twenty tripods in allto stand about the wall of the well-built hall,and he set golden wheels under the base of each,so that they might enter the divine assembly of their own accordand return again to his house, a marvel to behold.These indeed had their completion, but the ears were not yetfitted on them, cunningly wrought; these he was preparing, and he was cutting the bonds.While he was labouring at these things with his skilled mind,meanwhile the goddess Thetis of the silver feet came near him.And the Grace, shining-veiled, saw her as she came forward,beautiful, whom the renowned lame god had married;and she clung to her hand and spoke and called her by name:"Why, Thetis of the trailing robe, have you come to our house,revered and dear? Before, you were not at all wont to come.But follow further in, that I may set guest-gifts before you."So speaking, the shining goddess led her forward.Then she seated her on a silver-studded throne,beautiful and cunningly wrought; and a footstool was under her feet;and she called to Hephaestus the renowned craftsman and spoke a word:"Hephaestus, come out here; Thetis has need of you."Then the renowned lame god answered her:"Surely a dread and revered goddess is in my house,who saved me when grief came upon me, fallen far away,by the will of my dog-faced mother, who wishedto hide me away, being lame; then I would have suffered grief in my heart,if Eurynome and Thetis had not received me in their bosom,Eurynome, daughter of the refluent Ocean.With them for nine years I wrought many cunning things,brooches and twisted bracelets and spiral cups and necklaces,in a hollow cave; and about it the stream of Oceanflowed, murmuring with foam, unmeasured; and no otherknew of it, neither of the gods nor of mortal men,but Thetis and Eurynome knew, who saved me.She has now come to our house; so I must greatlypay back all the guest-gifts to fair-tressed Thetis.But do you now set before her fine guest-gifts,while I put away the bellows and all my tools."He spoke, and rose from the anvil, a huge monstrous bulk,limping; and beneath him his thin shins moved swiftly.He set the bellows away from the fire, and all his toolshe gathered into a silver chest, with which he laboured;and with a sponge he wiped his face and both his hands,and his sturdy neck and his shaggy chest,and he put on his tunic, and took a thick staff, and went out the doorlimping; and handmaids hurried along beside their master,golden, like living young maidens.In them there is understanding in their minds, and voiceand strength, and from the immortal gods they know their works.They hurried along beside their master; but he, movingnear to where Thetis was, sat down on a shining throne,and clung to her hand and spoke and called her by name:"Why, Thetis of the trailing robe, have you come to our house,revered and dear? Before, you were not at all wont to come.Speak out what you have in mind; my heart bids me fulfil it,if I can fulfil it and if it is a thing that can be fulfilled."Then Thetis answered him, shedding a tear:"Hephaestus, is there then any one of all the goddesses in Olympuswho has endured in her own heart such grievous caresas the griefs Zeus, son of Cronus, has given me out of all?Out of the other sea-goddesses he subdued me to a mortal man,Aeacus' son Peleus, and I endured the bed of a manmuch against my will. He now, in hateful old age,lies in his halls worn out, and I have other griefs now;since he gave me a son to be born and to be reared,outstanding among heroes; and he shot up like a sapling;whom I nurtured like a young plant on the hillside of an orchard,and sent forth in the curved ships to Ilios,to fight the Trojans; and I shall not welcome him backreturning home to the house of Peleus.And while he lives and sees the light of the sun,he grieves, and I can do nothing to help him by going to him.The girl whom the sons of the Achaeans chose out as a prize for him,her lordly Agamemnon took back out of his hands.And he wasted the heart in him with grief; while the Achaeansthe Trojans penned at the sterns, and would not let themgo out; and the elders of the Argives entreated him,and named many glorious gifts.Then he himself refused to ward off destruction,but he clothed Patroclus in his own armour,and sent him to war, and gave him a great host besides.All day they fought about the Scaean gates;and that same day they would have sacked the city, had not Apolloslain the valiant son of Menoetius, who had done much harm,among the foremost fighters, and given glory to Hector.Therefore now I come to your knees, in case you are willingto give my son, who is swift-fated, a shield and a helmetand beautiful greaves fitted with ankle-piecesand a corselet; for his faithful companion lost his own,subdued by the Trojans; and he lies on the ground grieving in spirit."Then the renowned lame god answered her:"Take heart; let not these things be a care in your mind.If only I could hide him from dolorous deathlike this, when dread fate comes upon him,as surely beautiful armour shall be his, such thatmany men will marvel, whoever sees it."So speaking, he left her there, and went to the bellows;he turned them toward the fire and bade them work.And the bellows, twenty in all, blew in their furnaces,sending out every kind of ready blast,now to attend him as he hurried, now againjust as Hephaestus wished and the work went forward.He cast into the fire weariless bronze and tinand precious gold and silver; and thenhe set the great anvil on its block, and took in his handa mighty hammer, and in the other he took the tongs.And he made first a shield, great and sturdy,embossing it all over, and about it he set a shining rim,triple, gleaming, and a silver baldric on it.And five layers there were on the shield; and on ithe wrought many cunning things with his skilled mind.On it he fashioned earth, and on it heaven, and on it sea,and the untiring sun and the full moon,and on it all the constellations with which the sky is crowned,the Pleiades, the Hyades, and the strength of Orion,and the Bear, which men also call by the name Wagon,which turns in the same place and watches Orion,and alone has no share in the baths of Ocean.On it he made two cities of mortal men,beautiful. In the one there were weddings and feasts,and they were leading the brides from their chambers by the light of blazing torchesthrough the city, and a loud marriage song arose;and young men whirled in the dance, and among thempipes and lyres sounded; and the womenstood each at her doorway and marvelled.And the people were gathered in the assembly; and there a quarrelhad arisen, and two men were quarrelling about blood-moneyfor a man who had been killed; one claimed to have paid everything,showing it to the people, and the other refused to accept anything;and both were eager to go to an arbitrator for a decision.And the people shouted on both sides, as helpers;and heralds restrained the people; and the elderssat on polished stones in a sacred circle,holding in their hands the sceptres of the loud-voiced heralds;then they sprang up, and each in turn gave judgment.And there lay in the midst two talents of gold,to give to the one who spoke the straightest judgment among them.And about the other city two armies of people sat,gleaming in armour; and their counsel was divided in two,either to sack it or to divide in two allthe possessions that the lovely citadel held within;and they were not yet yielding, but were secretly arming for an ambush.And the wall their dear wives and infant childrenwere guarding, standing on it, and with them the men whom old age held;and the others went forth; and Ares led them and Pallas Athena,both golden, and golden were the garments they wore,both beautiful and tall with their armour, as befits gods,conspicuous on both sides; and the people were lesser.And when they came to the place where it seemed good to them to lie in ambush,at a river, where there was a watering-place for all the herds,there they sat down, wrapped in gleaming bronze.And apart from them two scouts sat, watchingfor the flocks and the curved-horned cattle to be seen.And these soon came on, and two herdsmen followed with themdelighting in their pipes; and they had no foreknowledge of the trap.And those, seeing this beforehand, rushed upon them, and quickly thenthey cut down the herds of cattle and the fair flocksof white sheep, and killed the shepherds.And when the others heard the great din among the cattle,as they sat before their huts, straightway leaping on their horseswith high-lifting feet, they pursued, and quickly came.Then they set themselves in array and fought a battle beside the river banks,and they struck one another with bronze-tipped spears.And among them Strife and Confusion mingled, and deadly Fate,holding one man alive and newly wounded, another unwounded,and dragging another, dead, through the battle by the feet;and she wore a cloak about her shoulders, red with the blood of men.And they mingled as living mortals and fought,and they dragged at one another's corpses, fallen dead.On it he set a soft, rich field of fallow land,a broad fallow, thrice-ploughed; and many plowmen in itdrove their teams, turning them this way and that.And whenever they turned and came to the end of the field,then in their hands a man came up and gave thema cup of honey-sweet wine; and they turned back along the furrows,eager to reach the end of the deep fallow land.And it grew black behind them, and looked like ploughed land,though it was golden; that was made a wonder indeed.On it he set a royal domain; there labourerswere reaping, holding sharp sickles in their hands.And some sheaves fell in dense rows along the furrow,and others the binders bound with bands.And three binders stood by; and behind themboys gathered the sheaves and brought them in their armsand gave them without pause; and the king among them in silence,holding his sceptre, stood at the furrow, glad at heart.And heralds apart under an oak were preparing a feast,and they had sacrificed a great ox and were busy with it; and the womenscattered much white barley for the labourers' meal.On it he set a great vineyard heavy with grapes,beautiful, golden; and the clusters were black,and it stood on silver poles throughout.And about it he drew a dark trench, and a fence about itof tin; and there was one single path to it,by which the carriers went when they gathered the vineyard.And maidens and young men, tender-hearted,carried the honey-sweet fruit in woven baskets.And in their midst a boy with a clear lyreplayed charmingly, and sang the beautiful Linos songin a thin voice; and they with leaping andwith dance and cry, skipping with their feet, followed along.On it he made a herd of straight-horned cattle;and the cattle were wrought of gold and tin,and with lowing they rushed from the dung to the pasturebeside a murmuring river, beside a rustling reed-bed.And golden herdsmen walked along with the cattle,four of them, and nine swift dogs followed them.And two terrible lions among the foremost cattleheld a bellowing bull; and he, lowing long,was dragged along; and the dogs and the young men followed after.And the two, having torn open the hide of the great ox,gulp its entrails and black blood; and the herdsmenin vain press on, urging their swift dogs.And the dogs indeed shrank back from biting the lions,but standing very near they barked and darted off.And a pasture the renowned lame god made,in a beautiful glen, a great one for white sheep,and sheepfolds and roofed huts and pens.And a dancing floor the renowned lame god made cunningly,like the one that once in wide KnossosDaedalus fashioned for fair-tressed Ariadne.There young men and maidens, wooers of many oxen,danced, holding one another's hands by the wrist.And of them the girls wore fine linen, and the young menwore well-woven tunics, softly shining with oil;and the maidens had beautiful garlands, and the young menhad golden daggers from silver baldrics.And they now ran with skilled feetvery lightly, as when a potter sitting at his wheelthat fits his hands tries it, if it will run;and another time they ran in rows toward one another.And a great crowd stood around the lovely dancerejoicing; and among them sang a divine singerplaying the lyre; and two tumblers in their midstleading the dance whirled about.And on it he set the great strength of the river Oceanalong the outermost rim of the well-wrought shield.But when he had made the shield, great and sturdy,he made him a corselet brighter than the gleam of fire,and he made him a helmet, sturdy, fitted to his temples,beautiful and cunningly wrought, and on it he set a golden crest,and he made him greaves of pliant tin.But when the renowned lame god had wrought all the armour,he lifted it and set it before the mother of Achilles.And she, like a hawk, sprang down from snowy Olympusbearing the gleaming armour from Hephaestus.

So they kept fighting, looking just like blazing fire,and swift-footed Antilochus came as a messenger to Achilles.He found him in front of the high-prowed ships,thinking over in his heart what had already been done.Groaning, he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit:"Oh no, why are the long-haired Achaeansbeing driven in confusion at the ships, terrified over the plain?May the gods not bring about for me in my heart the painful griefsthat my mother once explained to me and told me:that while I was still alive, the best of the Myrmidonswould fall at Trojan hands and leave the light of the sun.Surely the brave son of Menoetius is dead,the stubborn man. I told him, once he had pushed back the enemy fire,to come back to the ships and not to fight Hector in full force.While he was turning these things over in his mind and heart,meanwhile the son of glorious Nestor came up close to him,shedding hot tears, and he told his painful news:"Oh no, son of warlike Peleus, you are going to heara very bitter message, which should never have happened.Patroclus lies dead, and they are fighting over the naked body;helmet-flashing Hector has his armour."So he spoke, and a black cloud of grief covered him.With both hands he took the sooty dustand poured it over his head, and spoiled his handsome face,and the black ash settled on his scented tunic.He himself, huge, stretched out at great length in the dust,lay there, and with his own hands he spoiled his hair, tearing it.The slave women whom Achilles and Patroclus had taken as plunderwailed aloud with hearts in grief, and out of the doorthey ran around warlike Achilles, and all with their handsstruck their breasts, and each one's limbs went slack.On the other side Antilochus lamented, shedding tears,holding Achilles' hands; and he groaned in his noble heart,for he was afraid he might cut his throat with the iron.He cried out dreadfully, and his queenly mother heard him,as she sat in the depths of the sea beside her old father.She wailed, and the goddesses gathered around her,all the Nereids who were in the depth of the sea.There were Glauce, Thaleia, Cymodoce,Nesaea, Speio, Thoe, and ox-eyed Halia,Cymothoe, Actaea, Limnoreia,and Melite, and Iaira, and Amphithoe, and Agave,Doto, Proto, Pherousa, Dynamene,Dexamene, Amphinome, Callianeira,Doris, Panope, and famous Galatea,Nemertes, Apseudes, Callianassa.There were Clymene, Ianeira, Ianassa,Maera, Oreithyia, and fair-haired Amathia,and the other Nereids who were in the depth of the sea.Their cave was filled with them, gleaming silver, and all togetherthey struck their breasts, and Thetis began the lament:"Listen, sister Nereids, so that all of you mayknow well, hearing how many griefs are in my heart.Oh no, wretched me, oh no, ill-fated mother of the best son,I who once bore a son blameless and strong,outstanding among heroes; he grew up like a young shoot,whom I raised like a plant on the hill of an orchardand sent out in the curved ships to Iliosto fight the Trojans; I will not welcome him backreturning home to the house of Peleus.While he lives and sees the light of the sunhe grieves, and I cannot help him by going to him.But I will go, so that I may see my dear child and hearwhat grief has come to him while he waits away from the war."So she spoke and left the cave, and with herthe others went in tears, and around them the wave of the seabroke; and when they reached fertile Troythey went up onto the shore in order, where in close rowsthe ships of the Myrmidons were drawn up around swift Achilles.His queenly mother stood beside him as he groaned heavily,and with a sharp cry she took her own son's head in her hands,and lamenting she spoke winged words to him:"Child, why do you weep? What grief has reached your heart?Tell me, do not hide it; for these things have been accomplishedfor you by Zeus, just as you once prayed, lifting up your hands,that all the sons of the Achaeans would be crowded at the sterns,in need of you, and suffer shameful things."Heavily groaning, swift-footed Achilles answered her:"My mother, the Olympian has indeed accomplished these things for me,but what pleasure are they to me, when my dear companion has died,Patroclus, whom I honoured above all my companions,equal to my own self? I have lost him, and Hectorkilled him and stripped off the huge armour, a wonder to look at,beautiful; the gods gave it to Peleus as shining giftson the day when they put you in the bed of a mortal man.If only you had stayed there among the immortal sea-goddesses,and Peleus had taken a mortal wife.But now, so that you too may have endless grief in your heartfor your son who has died, whom you will not welcome backreturning home; since my own heart does not bid melive or be among men, unless Hectorfirst, struck by my spear, loses his life,and pays the price for Patroclus, son of Menoetius."Shedding a tear, Thetis spoke to him:"You will be short-lived, my child, from what you say;for straight after Hector, death is ready for you."Greatly vexed, swift-footed Achilles answered her:"Then let me die at once, since I was not going to help my companionwhen he was killed. He died far from his homeland,and I was not there to be a defence against destruction.But now, since I am not going back to my dear native land,and I was no light to Patroclus or to the othercompanions, many of whom were killed by noble Hector,but I sit by the ships, a useless burden on the earth,though I am such as no other of the bronze-clad Achaeansis in war; but in the assembly others are better.So may strife perish from gods and men,and anger, which makes even a thoughtful man furious,which, far sweeter than dripping honey,grows in the breasts of men like smoke.So Agamemnon, king of men, has now made me angry.But let us let these things be, grieved as we are,and subdue our own dear spirit in our breasts by necessity.But now I go, so that I may catch the destroyer of my dear head,Hector; and I will accept my death wheneverZeus and the other immortal gods wish to accomplish it.For not even the strength of Heracles escaped death,though he was dearest to Zeus, lord, son of Cronus,but fate subdued him, and the painful anger of Hera.So I too, if a similar fate has been made for me,will lie dead when I die. But now let me win good glory,and make some one of the Trojan and deep-bosomed Dardanian womenwith both hands over her soft cheekswipe away her tears and groan aloud,and let them know that I have long rested from war.Do not hold me back from battle, dear as you are; you will not persuade me."Then the goddess Thetis of the silver feet answered him:"Yes, my child, this is true and no bad thing,to fend off steep destruction from companions in distress.But your beautiful armour is in Trojan hands,bronze and gleaming; and helmet-flashing Hectorhimself glories in wearing it on his shoulders; but I sayhe will not glory in it long, for slaughter is near him.But do not go down into the rush of Aresbefore you see me come here before your eyes;for at dawn I will come back with the rising sun,bringing beautiful armour from lord Hephaestus."So she spoke and turned back from her own son,and turning she spoke to her sea sisters:"You now go down into the wide bosom of the seaand see the old man of the sea and your father's house,and tell him everything. I will go to steep Olympusto Hephaestus the famous craftsman, if he is willingto give my son glorious gleaming armour."So she spoke, and they immediately went down under the wave of the sea,and the goddess Thetis of the silver feetwent toward Olympus to bring her dear son the glorious armour.Her feet carried her to Olympus; but the Achaeanswith a wondrous cry, fleeing before man-killing Hector,came to the ships and the Hellespont.Not even Patroclus would the well-greaved Achaeanshave dragged out from under the weapons, the body of Achilles' companion;for the host and the horses overtook him again,and Hector, son of Priam, like a flame in his strength.Three times famous Hector grabbed him from behind by the feet,eager to drag him away, and shouted loudly to the Trojans;three times the two Ajaxes, clothed in furious strength,pushed him back from the body; and he, firmly trusting in his strength,now rushed at them through the battle, now againstood still, shouting loudly; and he did not give ground at all.Just as herdsmen in the fields cannotdrive away a tawny lion that is very hungry,so the two helmeted Ajaxes could notdrive Hector, son of Priam, away from the body.And now he would have dragged him away and won boundless glory,if swift Iris, wind-footed, had not come to the son of Peleusas a messenger, running from Olympus, to arm himself,without Zeus or the other gods knowing; for Hera sent her.Standing near, she spoke winged words:"Get up, son of Peleus, most terrifying of all men;help Patroclus, for whose sake the dread battlestands before the ships; they are killing each other,some defending the dead body,and others, the Trojans, rushing to drag it to windy Ilios.Most of all famous Hectoris eager to drag it away; his heart bids himto cut the head from the tender neck and fix it on a stake.But get up and lie there no longer; let shame come to your heartthat Patroclus should become a plaything for Trojan dogs.It is a disgrace to you if the body comes back dishonoured."Then swift-footed shining Achilles answered her:"Iris, goddess, which of the gods sent you to me as a messenger?"Then wind-footed swift Iris spoke to him:"Hera sent me, the glorious wife of Zeus.The high-throned son of Cronus does not know, nor any otherof the immortals who live around snowy Olympus."Answering her, swift-footed Achilles said:"How can I go into the press? They have the armour.My dear mother did not let me arm myself beforeI see her with my own eyes come here;she promised to bring beautiful armour from Hephaestus.I know no one else whose glorious armour I could put on,except the shield of Ajax, son of Telamon.But even he, I think, is among the front ranks,killing with his spear around dead Patroclus."Then wind-footed swift Iris spoke to him:"We too know well that your glorious armour is in their hands,but just go to the ditch and show yourself to the Trojans,in case the Trojans, afraid of you, hold back from battle,and the warlike sons of the Achaeans can breathe againin their exhaustion; there is little relief from war."So she spoke and left, swift-footed Iris.But Achilles rose, dear to Zeus; and around him Athenathrew her tasselled aegis over his strong shoulders,and around his head the shining goddess wreathed a goldencloud, and from it she kindled a brightly gleaming flame.Just as smoke rising from a city reaches the upper airfrom far off, from an island that enemies are attacking,who all day long contend in hateful warfrom their own city; and at sunsetthe beacon fires blaze in close rows, and the glarerises darting up for the neighbours to see,in case they come with their ships as helpers against the war;so from Achilles' head the light reached the upper air.He went and stood on the ditch, away from the wall, and did notjoin the Achaeans, for he respected his mother's firm command.Standing there he shouted, and apart from him Pallas Athenacried out; but among the Trojans she stirred up boundless confusion.Just as a piercing sound, when a trumpet rings outaround a city besieged by spirit-destroying enemies,so then was the piercing voice of the son of Aeacus.When they heard the bronze voice of the son of Aeacus,everyone's spirit was shaken; the fair-maned horsesturned the chariots back, for they sensed suffering in their hearts.The charioteers were stunned when they saw the untiring fireterrible above the head of the great-hearted son of Peleus,blazing; the bright-eyed goddess Athena kindled it.Three times over the ditch great Achilles shouted,three times the Trojans and their famous allies were thrown into confusion.There and then twelve of their best men diedaround their own chariots and spears. But the Achaeansgladly dragged Patroclus out from under the weaponsand laid him on a bier; his dear companions stood aroundmourning; and swift Achilles followed among them,shedding hot tears, when he saw his trusted companionlying on the bier, mangled by the sharp bronze,the one he had sent out with horses and chariotto war, and did not receive back returning.Ox-eyed queenly Hera sent the untiring sunto go down unwillingly into the streams of Ocean.The sun set, and the noble Achaeans stoppedthe fierce battle and the even war.The Trojans on the other side, from the strong fightingwithdrew and unyoked the swift horses from under their chariots,and gathered in assembly before thinking about dinner.The assembly was of men standing upright, and no one daredto sit; for trembling held them all, because Achilleshad appeared, and he had long abstained from painful war.Among them prudent Polydamas, son of Panthous, began to speak,for he alone saw both forward and backward,and he was a companion of Hector, and they were born on the same night,but one was far the better in words, the other in the spear.He, well-minded, spoke to them and said:"Think carefully, my friends; I for my part urgethat we go now to the city and not wait for shining dawnon the plain beside the ships; for we are far from the wall.While this man was angry with shining Agamemnon,the Achaeans were easier to fight;I used to be glad, sleeping by the swift ships,hoping to take the curved ships.But now I am terribly afraid of the swift-footed son of Peleus.So overbearing is his spirit that he will not be willingto wait on the plain, where Trojans and Achaeansboth in the middle share out the fury of Ares,but he will fight for the city and the women.But let us go to the city; obey me, for this is how it will be.For now night has stopped the swift-footed son of Peleus,immortal night; but if tomorrow he comes upon us heresetting out with his armour, then someone will surelyrecognise him; he will gladly reach sacred Ilios— whoever escapes; but dogs and vultures will eat manyof the Trojans. May I never hear of such a thing.But if we obey my words, anxious as we are,during the night we will keep our strength in the assembly, and the wallsand the high gates and the planks fitted on them,long and well-planed and bolted, will protect the city.At dawn, early, armed with our armour,we will stand on the walls; it will be worse for him, if he wishesto come from the ships and fight us around the wall.He will go back again to the ships, after he has worn out his strong-necked horseswith every kind of running as he ranges under the city,but his spirit will not let him rush inside,nor will he ever sack it; before that the swift dogs will eat him."Looking at him from under his brows, helmet-flashing Hector said:"Polydamas, you no longer say things that please me,you who tell us to go back and gather in the city.Are you not yet satisfied with being penned inside the towers?Before, all mortal men used to say that the city of Priamwas rich in gold and rich in bronze;but now the beautiful treasures have perished from its houses,and many possessions have gone to be sold in Phrygia and lovely Maeonia,since great Zeus is angry.But now, when the son of crooked-counselled Cronus has given meto win glory by the ships and to pen the Achaeans against the sea,fool, do not show such thoughts among the people any longer;for no Trojan will obey you; and I will not allow it.But come, let us all obey what I say.Now take your dinner throughout the army by companies,and remember the watch, and let each man stay awake;and of the Trojans, whoever is over-proud and upset about his possessions,let him gather them and give them to the people to eat up;it is better for one of them to benefit than for the Achaeans.At dawn, early, armed with our armour,let us wake sharp Ares against the hollow ships.And if in truth shining Achilles has risen up from the ships,it will be worse for him, if he wishes it; I for one will notflee from the painful war, but I will standright against him, and either he carries off great victory, or I do.Enyalius is shared by both, and he kills the one who would kill."So Hector spoke, and the Trojans shouted in approval,fools; for Pallas Athena took away their wits.For they praised Hector for planning evil,and no one praised Polydamas for his good advice.Then they took dinner throughout the army; but the Achaeansall night long groaned and wept for Patroclus.Among them the son of Peleus led the constant lament,laying his man-killing hands on his companion's breast,groaning thick and fast like a well-maned lionwhose cubs a hunter has snatched from under himout of the thick forest; he grieves, arriving too late,and he roams over many glens, searching for the man's tracks,in case he finds him somewhere; for sharp anger seizes him.So he, heavily groaning, spoke to the Myrmidons:"Oh, surely I spoke a useless word that daywhen I encouraged the hero Menoetius in his halls;I said I would bring his famous son back to Opoeisafter sacking Ilios and winning his share of the plunder.But Zeus does not fulfil all the plans of men.For it is fated for both of us to redden the same earthhere in Troy, since the old horseman Peleuswill not receive me either when I return in his halls,nor my mother Thetis, but here the earth will hold me.But now, Patroclus, since I am going under the earth after you,I will not perform your funeral rites before I bring here Hector'sarmour and head, the head of your great-hearted killer;and before the pyre I will cut the throats of twelveglorious children of the Trojans, angry over your death.Meanwhile you will lie by the curved ships just as you are,and around you Trojan and deep-bosomed Dardanian womenwill weep, shedding tears night and day,whom we ourselves won with our strength and the long spearwhen we sacked the rich cities of mortal men."So he spoke, and shining Achilles called to his companionsto set a great tripod over the fire, so that as quickly as possiblethey might wash the bloody gore off Patroclus.They set a bathing tripod on the blazing fire,poured water into it, and lit wood under it, taking it up.The fire wrapped the belly of the tripod, and the water grew warm.When the water boiled in the gleaming bronze,then they washed him and anointed him thickly with oil,and filled his wounds with nine-year-old salve;laying him on a bier, they covered him with a soft linen clothfrom head to feet, and over that with a white mantle.All night long then around swift-footed Achillesthe Myrmidons groaned and wept for Patroclus.And Zeus spoke to Hera, his sister and wife:"You did it, then, ox-eyed queenly Hera,by rousing swift-footed Achilles; surely the long-haired Achaeansare born from you yourself."Then ox-eyed queenly Hera answered him:"Most dread son of Cronus, what a thing you have said!Surely some mortal man may intend to do something for a man,one who is mortal and knows no such plans;how then could I, who claim to be the best of the goddesses,both in birth and because I am called your wife,and you rule among all the immortals,not have woven evil for the Trojans in my anger?"So they said such things to each other.And Thetis of the silver feet came to the house of Hephaestus,imperishable, starry, outstanding among the immortals,bronze, which the crooked-footed god himself had made.She found him sweating, turning about his bellows,hurrying; for he was making twenty tripods in allto stand around the wall of the well-built hall,and he put golden wheels under each base,so that they might enter the divine assembly by themselvesand come back again to his house, a wonder to see.These indeed were finished, but the handles were not yetfitted on them, cunningly worked; these he was preparing and cutting the fastenings.While he was working at these things with his skilled mind,meanwhile the goddess Thetis of the silver feet came near him.The Grace with shining veil saw her as she came forward,beautiful, whom the famous lame god had married.She clung to her hand and spoke and called her by name:"Why, Thetis of the trailing robe, have you come to our house,revered and dear? Before, you did not come often.But come further in, so that I may set guest-gifts before you."So she spoke, and the shining goddess led her forward.Then she seated her on a silver-studded throne,beautiful and cunningly worked; there was a footstool under her feet.She called to Hephaestus the famous craftsman and said:"Hephaestus, come out here; Thetis has some need of you."Then the famous lame god answered her:"Surely a dread and revered goddess is in my house,who saved me when grief came on me after I fell far away,through the will of my shameless mother, who wantedto hide me because I was lame; then I would have suffered grief in my heart,if Eurynome and Thetis had not taken me to their bosom,Eurynome, daughter of the refluent Ocean.With them for nine years I forged many cunning things,brooches and twisted bracelets and spiral cups and necklaces,in a hollow cave; around it the stream of Oceanflowed, murmuring with foam, endlessly; and no otherknew of it, neither of the gods nor of mortal men,but Thetis and Eurynome knew, who saved me.She has now come to our house; so I must greatlypay back all the guest-gifts to fair-tressed Thetis.But do you now set fine guest-gifts before her,while I put away the bellows and all my tools."He spoke, and rose from the anvil, a huge monstrous bulk,limping; and beneath him his thin shins moved busily.He set the bellows away from the fire, and all his toolshe gathered into a silver chest, the ones he worked with.With a sponge he wiped his face and both hands,and his sturdy neck and his shaggy chest,and he put on a tunic, took a thick staff, and went out the doorlimping; and handmaids hurried along beside their master,golden, like living young women.In them there is understanding in their minds, and voiceand strength, and they know the works of the immortal gods.They hurried along beside their master; but he, movingnear to where Thetis was, sat down on a shining throne,and clung to her hand and spoke and called her by name:"Why, Thetis of the trailing robe, have you come to our house,revered and dear? Before, you did not come often.Say what you have in mind; my heart bids me fulfil it,if I can fulfil it and if it is something that can be done."Then Thetis answered him, shedding a tear:"Hephaestus, is there then any one of all the goddesses in Olympuswho has endured in her heart such grievous sorrowsas the pains Zeus, son of Cronus, has given me out of all of them?Out of the other sea-goddesses he subdued me to a mortal man,Peleus, son of Aeacus, and I endured the bed of a manvery much against my will. He now, in hateful old age,lies in his halls, worn out, and I have other troubles now;since he gave me a son to be born and raised,outstanding among heroes; he grew up like a young shoot,whom I raised like a plant on the hill of an orchardand sent out in the curved ships to Iliosto fight the Trojans; I will not welcome him backreturning home to the house of Peleus.While he lives and sees the light of the sunhe grieves, and I cannot help him by going to him.The girl whom the sons of the Achaeans chose out as a prize for him,lordly Agamemnon took her back out of his hands.He wasted the heart in him with grief, while the Trojanspenned the Achaeans at the sterns and did not let themgo out; the elders of the Argives begged him,and named many glorious gifts.Then he himself refused to ward off destruction,but he dressed Patroclus in his own armourand sent him to war, and gave him a great host besides.All day they fought around the Scaean gates,and that same day they would have sacked the city, if Apollohad not killed the brave son of Menoetius, who had done much harm,among the front fighters, and given glory to Hector.Therefore I now come to your knees, in case you are willingto give my son, who is short-lived, a shield and a helmetand beautiful greaves fitted with ankle-piecesand a corselet; for his faithful companion lost his own,subdued by the Trojans; and he lies on the ground grieving in spirit."Then the famous lame god answered her:"Take courage; do not let these things be a care in your mind.If only I could hide him from painful deathlike this, when dread fate comes on him,as surely beautiful armour will be his, such thatmany people will marvel, whoever sees it."So he spoke, left her there, and went to the bellows;he turned them toward the fire and told them to work.The bellows, twenty in all, blew in their furnaces,sending out every kind of ready blast,now to help him as he hurried, now againjust as Hephaestus wished and the work went forward.He threw weariless bronze into the fire, and tinand precious gold and silver; thenhe set the great anvil on its block, and took in one handa mighty hammer, and in the other he took the tongs.He made first a shield, great and sturdy,working it cunningly all over, and around it he set a shining rim,triple, gleaming, and a silver strap.There were five layers on the shield; and on ithe made many cunning things with his skilled mind.On it he fashioned earth, and heaven, and sea,and the untiring sun and the full moon,and on it all the constellations with which the sky is crowned,the Pleiades, the Hyades, and the strength of Orion,and the Bear, which men also call the Wagon,which turns in the same place and watches Orion,and alone has no share in the baths of Ocean.On it he made two cities of mortal men,beautiful. In the one there were weddings and feasts,and they were leading brides from their chambers by the light of blazing torchesthrough the city, and a loud marriage song arose;young men whirled in the dance, and among thempipes and lyres sounded; the womeneach stood at her doorway and marvelled.The people were gathered in the assembly; there a quarrelhad arisen, and two men were quarrelling about blood-moneyfor a man who had been killed; one claimed to have paid everything,showing it to the people, and the other refused to accept anything;both were eager to go to an arbitrator for a decision.The people shouted on both sides as helpers,and heralds held the people back; the elderssat on polished stones in a sacred circle,holding in their hands the sceptres of the loud-voiced heralds;then they sprang up and gave judgment each in turn.There lay in the middle two talents of gold,to give to the one who spoke the straightest judgment among them.Around the other city two armies of people sat,gleaming in armour; their counsel was divided in two,either to sack it or to divide in two allthe possessions that the lovely citadel held inside.They were not yet yielding, but were secretly arming for an ambush.The wall their dear wives and infant childrenwere guarding, standing on it, and with them the men whom old age held;the others went out; Ares led them and Pallas Athena,both golden, and golden were the clothes they wore,both beautiful and tall with their armour, as is fitting for gods,conspicuous on both sides; the people were smaller.When they came to the place where it seemed good to them to lie in ambush,at a river, where there was a watering place for all the herds,there they sat down, wrapped in gleaming bronze.Apart from them two scouts sat, watchingfor the flocks and the curved-horned cattle to appear.These soon came on, and two herdsmen followed with them,delighting in their pipes; they had no foreknowledge of the trap.Those, seeing this beforehand, rushed at them, and quickly thenthey cut down the herds of cattle and the fair flocksof white sheep, and killed the shepherds.When the others heard the great din among the cattle,as they sat before their huts, immediately leaping on their horseswith high-lifting feet, they pursued them and quickly arrived.Then they drew themselves up and fought a battle by the river banks,and they struck each other with bronze-tipped spears.Among them Strife and Confusion mingled, and deadly Fate,holding one man alive and newly wounded, another unwounded,and dragging another, dead, through the battle by the feet;she wore a cloak over her shoulders, red with the blood of men.They mingled like living mortals and fought,and they dragged at each other's corpses, lying dead.On it he set a soft, rich field of fallow land,a broad fallow, ploughed three times; many plowmen in itdrove their teams, turning them this way and that.Whenever they turned and came to the end of the field,then in their hands a man came up and gave thema cup of honey-sweet wine; they turned back along the furrows,eager to reach the end of the deep fallow land.It grew black behind them and looked like ploughed land,though it was golden; that was made a wonder indeed.On it he set a royal estate; there labourerswere reaping, holding sharp sickles in their hands.Some sheaves fell in close rows along the furrow,and others the binders tied with bands.Three binders stood by; behind themboys gathered the sheaves and brought them in their armsand handed them over without pause; the king among them in silence,holding his sceptre, stood at the furrow, glad at heart.Heralds apart under an oak were preparing a feast,they had sacrificed a great ox and were busy with it; the womenscattered much white barley for the labourers' meal.On it he set a great vineyard heavy with grapes,beautiful, golden; the clusters were black,and it stood on silver poles throughout.Around it he drew a dark trench, and around it a fenceof tin; there was one single path to it,by which the carriers went when they harvested the vineyard.Maidens and young men, tender-hearted,carried the honey-sweet fruit in woven baskets.In their midst a boy with a clear lyreplayed charmingly, and sang the beautiful Linos songin a thin voice; they with leaping andwith dance and cry, skipping with their feet, followed along.On it he made a herd of straight-horned cattle;the cattle were made of gold and tin,and with lowing they rushed from the dung to the pasturebeside a murmuring river, beside a rustling reed-bed.Golden herdsmen walked along with the cattle,four of them, and nine swift dogs followed them.Two terrible lions among the foremost cattleheld a bellowing bull; he, lowing long,was dragged along; the dogs and the young men followed after.The two, having torn open the hide of the great ox,gulp down its entrails and black blood; the herdsmenin vain pressed on, urging their swift dogs.The dogs shrank back from biting the lions,but standing very near they barked and darted away.The famous lame god made a pasture,in a beautiful glen, a great one for white sheep,and sheepfolds and roofed huts and pens.The famous lame god made a dancing floor cunningly,like the one that once in wide KnossosDaedalus made for fair-tressed Ariadne.There young men and maidens, wooed with many oxen,danced, holding one another's hands by the wrist.Of them the girls wore fine linen, and the young menwore well-woven tunics, softly shining with oil;the maidens had beautiful garlands, and the young menhad golden daggers from silver straps.They now ran with skilled feetvery lightly, as when a potter sitting at his wheelthat fits his hands tries it, to see if it will run;another time they ran in rows toward one another.A great crowd stood around the lovely dance,rejoicing; among them sang a divine singerplaying the lyre; two tumblers in their midstleading the dance whirled about.On it he set the great strength of the river Oceanalong the outermost rim of the well-wrought shield.But when he had made the shield, great and sturdy,he made him a corselet brighter than the gleam of fire,he made him a helmet, sturdy, fitted to his temples,beautiful and cunningly worked, and on it he set a golden crest,he made him greaves of pliant tin.But when the famous lame god had worked all the armour,he lifted it and set it before the mother of Achilles.She, like a hawk, sprang down from snowy Olympusbearing the gleaming armour from Hephaestus.