by Homer
And in the midst, close cover'd with his robe,
Their sire, his head and neck with dirt defil'd,
Which, wallowing on the earth, himself had heap'd,
With his own hands, upon his hoary head.
Throughout the house his daughters loudly wail'd
In mem'ry of the many and the brave
Who lay in death, by Grecian warriors slain.
Beside him stood the messenger of Jove,
And whisper'd, while his limbs with terror shook:
"Fear nothing, Priam, son of Dardanus,
Nor let thy mind be troubled; not for ill,
But here on kindly errand am I sent:
To thee I come, a messenger from Jove,
Who from on high looks down on thee with eyes
Of pitying love; he bids thee ransom home
The godlike Hector's corpse; and with thee take
Such presents as may melt Achilles' heart.
Alone, no Trojan with thee, must thou go;
Yet may a herald on thy steps attend,
Some aged man, thy smoothly-rolling car
And mules to drive, and to the city back
To bring thy dead, whom great Achilles slew.
Nor let the fear of death disturb thy mind:
Hermes shall with thee, as thine escort, go,
And to Achilles' presence safely bring.
Arriv'd within the tent, nor he himself
Will slay thee, but from others will protect;
Not ignorant is he, nor void of sense,
Nor disobedient to the Gods' behest,
But will with pitying eyes his suppliant view."
Swift-footed Iris said, and vanish'd straight:
He to his sons commandment gave, the mules
To yoke beneath the smoothly-rolling car,
And on the axle fix the wicker seat.
Himself the lofty cedar chamber sought,
Fragrant, high-roof'd, with countless treasures stor'd;
And call'd to Hecuba his wife, and said,
"Good wife, a messenger from Jove hath come,
Who bids me seek the Grecian ships, and there
Obtain my son's release; and with me take
Such presents as may melt Achilles' heart.
Say then, what think'st thou? for my mind inclines
To seek the ships within the Grecian camp."
So he; but Hecuba lamenting cried,
"Alas, alas! where are thy senses gone?
And where the wisdom, once of high repute
'Mid strangers, and 'mid those o'er whom thou reign'st?
How canst thou think alone to seek the ships,
Ent'ring his presence, who thy sons hath slain,
Many and brave? an iron heart is thine!
Of that bloodthirsty and perfidious man,
If thou within the sight and reach shalt come,
No pity will he feel, no rev'rence show:
Rather remain we here apart and mourn;
For him, when at his birth his thread of life
Was spun by fate, 'twas destin'd that afar
From home and parents, he should glut the maw
Of rav'ning dogs, by that stern warrior's tent,
Whose inmost heart I would I could devour:
Such for my son were adequate revenge,
Whom not in ignominious flight he slew;
But standing, thoughtless of escape or flight,
For Trojan men and Troy's deep-bosom'd dames."
To whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:
"Seek not to hinder me; nor be thyself
A bird of evil omen in my house;
For thou shalt not persuade me. If indeed
This message had been brought by mortal man,
Prophet, or seer, or sacrificing priest,
I should have deem'd it false, and laugh'd to scorn
The idle tale; but now (for I myself
Both saw and heard the Goddess) I must go;
Nor unfulfill'd shall be the words I speak:
And if indeed it be my fate to die
Beside the vessels of the brass-clad Greeks,
I am content! by fierce Achilles' hand
Let me be slain, so once more in my arms
I hold my boy, and give my sorrow vent."
Then raising up the coffer's polish'd lid,
He chose twelve gorgeous shawls, twelve single cloaks.
As many rugs, as many splendid robes,
As many tunics; then of gold he took
Ten talents full; two tripods, burnish'd bright,
Four caldrons; then a cup of beauty rare,
A rich possession, which the men of Thrace
Had giv'n, when there he went ambassador;
E'en this he spar'd not, such his keen desire
His son to ransom. From the corridor
With angry words he drove the Trojans all:
"Out with ye, worthless rascals, vagabonds!
Have ye no griefs at home, that here ye come
To pester me? or is it not enough
That Jove with deep affliction visits me,
Slaying my bravest son? ye to your cost
Shall know his loss: since now that he is gone,
The Greeks shall find you easier far to slay.
But may my eyes be clos'd in death, ere see
The city sack'd, and utterly destroy'd."
He said, and with his staff drove out the crowd;
Before the old man's anger fled they all;
Then to his sons in threat'ning tone he cried;
To Paris, Helenus, and Agathon,
Pammon, Antiphonus, Polites brave,
Deiphobus, and bold Hippothous,
And godlike Dius; all these nine with threats
And angry taunts the aged sire assail'd:
"Haste, worthless sons, my scandal and my shame!
Would that ye all beside the Grecian ships
In Hector's stead had died! Oh woe is me,
Who have begotten sons, in all the land
The best and bravest; now remains not one;
Mestor, and Troilus, dauntless charioteer,
And Hector, who a God 'mid men appear'd,
Nor like a mortal's offspring, but a God's:
All these hath Mars cut off; and left me none,
None but the vile and refuse; liars all,
Vain skipping coxcombs, in the dance alone,
And in nought else renown'd; base plunderers,
From their own countrymen, of lambs and kids.
When, laggards, will ye harness me the car
Equipp'd with all things needed for the way?"
He said; they quail'd beneath their father's wrath,
And brought the smoothly-running mule-wain out,
Well-fram'd, new-built; and fix'd the wicker seat;
Then from the peg the mule-yoke down they took,
Of boxwood wrought, with boss and rings complete;
And with the yoke, the yoke-band brought they forth,
Nine cubits long; and to the polish'd pole
At the far end attach'd; the breast-rings then
Fix'd to the pole-piece: and on either side
Thrice round the knob the leathern thong they wound.
And bound it fast, and inward turn'd the tongue.
Then the rich ransom, from the chambers brought,
Of Hector's head, upon the wain they pil'd;
And yok'd the strong-hoof'd mules, to harness train'd,
The Mysians' splendid present to the King:
To Priam's car they harness'd then the steeds,
Which he himself at polish'd manger fed.
Deep thoughts revolving, in the lofty halls
Were met the herald and the aged King,
When Hecuba with troubled mind drew near;
In her right hand a golden cup she bore
Of luscious wine, that ere they took their way
They to the Gods might due libations
pour;
Before the car she stood, and thus she spoke:
"Take, and to father Jove thine off'ring pour,
And pray that he may bring thee safely home
From all thy foes; since sore against my will
Thou needs wilt venture to the ships of Greece.
Then to Idaean Jove, the cloud-girt son
Of Saturn, who th' expanse of Troy surveys,
Prefer thy pray'r, beseeching him to send,
On thy right hand, a winged messenger,
The bird he loves the best, of strongest flight;
That thou thyself mayst see and know the sign,
And, firm in faith, approach the ships of Greece.
But should all-seeing Jove the sign withhold,
Then not with my consent shouldst thou attempt,
Whate'er thy wish, to reach the Grecian ships."
To whom, in answer, godlike Priam thus:
"O woman, I refuse not to obey
Thy counsel; good it is to raise the hands
In pray'r to Heav'n, and Jove's protection seek."
The old man said; and bade th' attendant pour
Pure water on his hands; with ewer she,
And basin, stood beside him: from his wife,
The due ablutions made, he took the cup;
Then in the centre of the court he stood,
And as he pour'd the wine, look'd up to Heav'n,
And thus with voice uplifted pray'd aloud:
"O father Jove, who rul'st on Ida's height,
Most great, most glorious! grant that I may find
Some pity in Achilles' heart; and send,
On my right hand, a winged messenger,
The bird thou lov'st the best, of strongest flight,
That I myself may see and know the sign,
And, firm in faith, approach the ships of Greece."
Thus as he pray'd, the Lord of counsel heard;
And sent forthwith an eagle, feather'd king,
Dark bird of chase, and Dusky thence surnam'd:
Wide as the portals, well secur'd with bolts,
That guard some wealthy monarch's lofty hall,
On either side his ample pinions spread.
On the right hand appear'd he, far above
The city soaring; they the fav'ring sign
With joy beheld, and ev'ry heart was cheer'd.
Mounting his car in haste, the aged King
Drove thro' the court, and thro' the echoing porch;
The mules in front, by sage Idaeus driv'n,
That drew the four-wheel'd wain; behind them came
The horses, down the city's steep descent
Urg'd by th' old man to speed; the crowd of friends
That follow'd mourn'd for him, as doom'd to death.
Descended from the city to the plain,
His sons and sons-in-law to Ilium took
Their homeward way; advancing o'er the plain
They two escap'd not Jove's all-seeing eye;
Pitying he saw the aged sire; and thus
At once to Hermes spoke, his much-lov'd son:
"Hermes, for thou in social converse lov'st
To mix with men, and hear'st whome'er thou wilt;
Haste thee, and Priam to the Grecian ships
So lead, that none of all the Greeks may see
Ere at Achilles' presence he attain."
He said; nor disobey'd the heav'nly Guide;
His golden sandals on his feet he bound,
Ambrosial work; which bore him o'er the waves,
Swift as the wind, and o'er the wide-spread earth;
Then took his rod, wherewith he seals at will
The eyes of men, and wakes again from sleep.
This in his hand he bore, and sprang for flight.
Soon the wide Hellespont he reach'd, and Troy,
And pass'd in likeness of a princely youth,
In op'ning manhood, fairest term of life.
The twain had pass'd by Ilus' lofty tomb,
And halted there the horses and the mules
Beside the margin of the stream to drink;
For darkness now was creeping o'er the earth:
When through the gloom the herald Hermes saw
Approaching near, to Priam thus he cried:
"O son of Dardanus, bethink thee well;
Of prudent counsel great is now our need.
A man I see, and fear he means us ill.
Say, with the horses shall we fly at once,
Or clasp his knees, and for his mercy sue?"
The old man heard, his mind confus'd with dread;
So grievously he fear'd, that ev'ry hair
Upon his bended limbs did stand on end;
He stood astounded; but the Guardian-God
Approach'd, and took him by the hand, and said:
"Where, father, goest thou thus with horse and mule
In the still night, when men are sunk in sleep?
And fear'st thou not the slaughter-breathing Greeks,
Thine unrelenting foes, and they so near?
If any one of them should see thee now,
So richly laden in the gloom of night,
How wouldst thou feel? thou art not young thyself,
And this old man, thy comrade, would avail
But little to protect thee from assault.
I will not harm thee, nay will shield from harm,
For like my father's is, methinks, thy face."
To whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:
"'Tis as thou say'st, fair son; yet hath some God
Extended o'er me his protecting hand,
Who sends me such a guide, so opportune.
Bless'd are thy parents in a son so grac'd
In face and presence, and of mind so wise."
To whom in answer thus the Guardian-God:
"O father, well and wisely dost thou speak;
But tell me this, and truly: dost thou bear
These wealthy treasures to some foreign land,
That they for thee in safety may be stor'd?
Or have ye all resolv'd to fly from Troy
In fear, your bravest slain, thy gallant son,
Who never from the Greeks' encounter flinch'd?"
To whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:
"Who art thou, noble Sir, and what thy race,
That speak'st thus fairly of my hapless son?"
To whom in answer thus the Guardian-God:
"Try me, old man; of godlike Hector ask;
For often in the glory-giving fight
These eyes have seen him; chief, when to the ships
The Greeks he drove, and with the sword destroy'd.
We gaz'd in wonder; from the fight restrain'd
By Peleus' son, with Agamemnon wroth.
His follower I; one ship convey'd us both;
One of the Myrmidons I am; my sire
Polyctor, rich, but aged, e'en as thou.
Six sons he hath, besides myself, the sev'nth;
And I by lot was drafted for the war.
I from the ships am to the plain come forth;
For with the dawn of day the keen-ey'd Greeks
Will round the city marshal their array.
They chafe in idleness; the chiefs in vain
Strive to restrain their ardour for the fight."
To whom in answer Priam, godlike sire:
"If of Achilles, Peleus' son, thou art
Indeed a follower, tell me all the truth;
Lies yet my son beside the Grecian ships,
Or hath Achilles torn him limb from limb,
And to his dogs the mangled carcase giv'n?"
To whom in answer thus the Guardian-God:
"On him, old man, nor dogs nor birds have fed,
But by the ship of Peleus' son he lies
Within the tent; twelve days he there hath lain,
Nor hath corruption touch'd his flesh, nor worms,
That wont to prey on m
en in battle slain.
The corpse, indeed, with each returning morn,
Around his comrade's tomb Achilles drags,
Yet leaves it still uninjur'd; thou thyself
Mightst see how fresh, as dew-besprent, he lies,
From blood-stains cleans'd, and clos'd his many wounds,
For many a lance was buried in his corpse.
So, e'en in death, the blessed Gods above,
Who lov'd him well, protect thy noble son."
He said; th' old man rejoicing heard his words,
And answer'd, "See, my son, how good it is
To give th' immortal Gods their tribute due;
For never did my son, while yet he liv'd,
Neglect the Gods who on Olympus dwell;
And thence have they remember'd him in death.
Accept, I pray, this goblet rich-emboss'd;
Be thou my guard, and, under Heav'n, my guide,
Until I reach the tent of Peleus' son."
To whom in answer thus the Guardian-God:
"Old father, me thy younger wouldst thou tempt,
In vain; who bidd'st me at thy hands accept
Thy proffer'd presents, to Achilles' wrong.
I dread his anger; and should hold it shame
To plunder him, through fear of future ill.
But, as thy guide, I could conduct thee safe,
As far as Argos, journeying by thy side,
On ship-board or on foot; nor by the fault
Of thy conductor shouldst thou meet with harm."
Thus spoke the Guardian-God, and on the car
Mounting in haste, he took the whip and reins,
And with fresh vigour mules and horses fill'd.
When to the ship-tow'rs and the trench they came,
The guard had late been busied with their meal;
And with deep sleep the heav'nly Guide o'erspread
The eyes of all; then open'd wide the gates,
And push'd aside the bolts, and led within
Both Priam, and the treasure-laden wain.
But when they reach'd Achilles' lofty tent,
(Which for their King the Myrmidons had built
Of fir-trees fell'd, and overlaid the roof
With rushes mown from off the neighb'ring mead;
And all around a spacious court enclos'd
With cross-set palisades; a single bar
Of fir the gateway guarded, which to shut
Three men, of all the others, scarce suffic'd,
And three to open; but Achilles' hand
Unaided shut with ease the massive bar)
Then for the old man Hermes op'd the gate,
And brought within the court the gifts design'd
For Peleus' godlike son; then from the car
Sprang to the ground, and thus to Priam spoke:
"Old man, a God hath hither been thy guide;
Hermes I am, and sent to thee from Jove,
Father of all, to bring thee safely here.