1–21: Achilles cannot sleep for thinking about Patroclus. He drags Hector’s body round Patroclus’ tomb, but APOLLO protects it from disfigurement.
[Eleven days of Hector’s mistreatment, which began from the day of his death, cf. 24.107–8].
22–142: [39th day] The other gods pity Hector, but HERA, ATHENE and POSEIDON remain hostile. APOLLO pleads Hector’s case, and ZEUS instructs THETIS to tell Achilles he must return the body. Achilles agrees.
143–87: ZEUS tells the mourning Priam to take gifts to Achilles and ransom Hector.
188–321: Priam, after rounding on his sons, sets off, with an omen from ZEUS.
322–469: [Night before 40th day] HERMES in disguise accompanies Priam safely to Achilles’ quarters.
469–571: Priam’s supplication of Achilles succeeds. They both weep, and Achilles compares Priam’s fate with that of his own father, Peleus.
572–691: Priam’s gifts are unloaded, and Hector’s body placed on the waggon. Achilles and Priam eat together. By night HERMES leads Priam secretly away.
691–784: [40th day] Cassandra sees Priam approaching. Andromache, Hecabe and Helen utter laments. Wood is collected.
[Nine days to build Hector’s pyre].
785–804: [49th day] Hector is cremated and [50th day] buried, and a grave-mound set up. A funeral feast is held in Priam’s palace.
The gathering broke up, and the warriors scattered to their several ships; they were thinking of the pleasures of food and sweet sleep. But Achilles began to weep for his dear companion whom he could not banish from his mind, and all-conquering sleep refused to visit him. He tossed and turned from side to side, always thinking of his loss, of Patroclus’ manliness and spirit, of all they had been through together and the hardships they had endured, of battles against the enemy and dangers at sea. As memories crowded in, the warm tears poured down his (10) cheeks. Sometimes he lay on his side, sometimes on his back and then again on his face. Then he would get up and roam agitatedly along the salt-sea beach.
Achilles mutilates Hector’s body
Dawn after dawn as it lit up the sea and coastline never failed to find him there. He would yoke his swift horses to his chariot, tie Hector’s body loosely to the back of it and, when he had hauled it three times round Patroclus’ grave-mound, go back and rest in his hut, leaving the body stretched face downward in the dust. But dead though Hector was, Apollo still felt pity for the man and protected his flesh from all disfigurement. Moreover, he (20) wrapped him in his golden aegis, so that Achilles should not tear his flesh when he was dragging him along.
So Achilles in his fury disfigured godlike Hector. The blessed gods looked on and took pity on him. They even urged Hermes, sharp-eyed slayer of Argus, to steal the body, but while this found favour with the rest, it had no appeal for Hera, Poseidon or grey-eyed Athene. These hated sacred Ilium and Priam and his people just as much now as when Paris first committed that act of blind folly at the judgement in his shepherd’s hut, when he humiliated Hera and Athene by preferring Aphrodite – whose (30) reward was his fatal lust for women.
Eleven days went by, and at dawn on the twelfth Phoebus Apollo spoke out to the immortals:
[Day 39] APOLLO and HERA quarrel over Achilles
‘You are hard-hearted, you gods – monsters of cruelty. Did Hector never burn for you the thighs of oxen and of unblemished goats? Yet now you will not even go so far as to save his body for his wife, mother and child to see, and for his father Priam and his people to cremate and honour with funeral rites. No, it’s the (40) murderous Achilles you gods choose to support, Achilles, who has no decent feelings in him and remains utterly relentless, like a lion that, when it wants its food, looks to nothing but its own great strength and arrogant appetites and pounces on shepherds’ flocks. Achilles, like the lion, has destroyed pity; he has no respect for others.
‘Many a man, I presume, is likely to have lost an even dearer one than he has, a brother borne by the same mother, or maybe a son. He weeps and laments for him, and that is the end of it, since the fates have endowed men with an enduring heart. But (50) Achilles first robs godlike Hector of his life and then ties him to his chariot and drags him round the tomb of his beloved companion. As though that will do him honour or credit! He had better beware of our anger, great man though he is. All he is doing in his fury is disfiguring dumb clay.’
Angrily, white-armed Hera replied:
‘There would be something in what you say, lord of the silver bow, if you gods had it in mind to honour Hector as you do Achilles. But Hector is a mere mortal, who was suckled at a woman’s breast; while Achilles is the son of Thetis, a goddess, (60) whom I myself brought up and took under my wing and gave in marriage to a man, to Peleus, the greatest favourite we had. All you gods came to the wedding. And so did you, Apollo, and sat down at the wedding feast, lyre in hand. But then you always were two-faced, you and your crooked friends.’ Zeus who marshals the clouds replied and said:
ZEUS orders return of Hector
‘Hera, stop losing your temper with the gods. There is no question of putting the two men on the same footing. But the fact remains that Hector was our favourite out of everyone in Ilium. He certainly was mine: he never failed to give me what I like. My altar never lacked its share of generous offerings, libations of wine and the (70) fat from burnt sacrifice, the honour gods have been granted as our right. But we must abandon this idea of secretly stealing Hector’s body. In any case it is not feasible, since Achilles’ mother stays beside him night and day. However, let one of the gods tell Thetis to come here to me. I have a carefully considered solution to suggest, to make Achilles accept a ransom from Priam and release Hector.’
So he spoke, and Iris, quick as the wind, sped off on her mission. Halfway between Samothrace and rugged Imbros she dived into the dark sea, and the waters boomed and echoed. She (80) sank to the bottom like the piece of lead that an angler attaches to his ox-horn lure to bring death to the greedy fish. She found Thetis in her vaulted cavern, surrounded by a gathering of other salt-sea Nymphs; she was in the middle, bewailing the lot of her matchless son, destined, as she knew, to be killed in fertile Troy far from the land of his fathers. Swift-footed Iris came up to her and spoke:
‘Come, Thetis. Zeus in his infinite wisdom calls you to his side.’
The goddess silver-footed Thetis replied:
(90) ‘What does the great god want me for? I am so overwhelmed with sorrow that I shrink from mixing with the gods. However, I will come – Zeus’ words will not be idle.’
With these words the goddess took a dark-blue shawl – there was nothing blacker she could wear – and set out on her journey, preceded by swift Iris, quick as the wind. The waters of the sea made way for them, and they came out on the shore and sped up to the skies where they found far-thundering Zeus with all the other blessed everlasting gods seated round him. Thetis sat (100) down by Father Zeus – Athene let her have her chair – and Hera, with a warm word of welcome, passed her a lovely golden cup which Thetis returned to her when she had drunk from it. The Father of men and gods began and spoke his mind:
‘So, goddess Thetis, you have come to Olympus in spite of your troubles. You are distraught with grief – I know that as well as you. Nevertheless I must tell you why I called you here. For nine days the gods have been quarrelling over Hector’s body and Achilles sacker of cities. They have even urged Hermes, the sharp-eyed slayer of Argus, to steal the body. But I intend to (110) grant Achilles glory and in that way preserve your future respect and goodwill.
‘Go at once to the camp and convey my orders to your son. Tell him the gods are displeased with him and that I am the angriest of them all, because in his senseless fury he refuses to part with Hector’s body and has kept it by his beaked ships. If he will somehow fear me and release Hector, I will send Iris to great-hearted Priam to suggest that he should ransom his son by going to the Greek ships with gifts for Achilles that will warm his heart.’
THETIS persuades Achilles
(120) So he spoke, and the goddess silver-footed Thetis complied. She came swooping down from the heights of Olympus and reached her son’s hut. There she found him, groaning incessantly, while his comrades bustled around him in busy preparation of a meal, for which a large fleecy sheep was being slaughtered. Achilles’ lady mother sat down close beside him, stroked him with her hand and spoke to him:
‘My child, how much longer are you going to eat your heart out in lamentation and misery, forgetful even of food and bed? (130) It must be a good thing to make love to a woman – you have so short a time to live and already stand in the shadow of death and inexorable destiny.
‘Listen to me now and understand I come from Zeus, who wishes you to know the gods are displeased with you and that he himself is the angriest of them all, because in your senseless fury you refuse to part with Hector’s body and have kept it by your beaked ships. Come now, give it back and accept a ransom for the dead.’
Swift-footed Achilles replied and said:
(140) ‘If the Olympian is in earnest and himself commands me, then bring in the man who would offer a ransom and take the body away.’
While mother and son exchanged many a winged word with each other down there among the ships, Zeus dispatched Iris to sacred Ilium:
IRIS’ mission to Priam
‘Off with you, swift Iris. Leave your Olympian home and take a message to great-hearted Priam in Ilium. Tell him to ransom his son by going to the Greek ships with gifts for Achilles that will warm his heart. He must go alone, without a single Trojan to escort him, except (150) maybe one of the older heralds who could drive the mules and smooth-running waggon and bring back to Ilium the body of the man godlike Achilles killed. Tell him not to think of death and to have no fears whatever. We will send him the best of escorts, Hermes slayer of Argus, who will remain in charge till he has brought him into Achilles’ presence. Once he is inside his hut, no one is going to kill him, neither Achilles himself nor anybody else. Achilles will see to that. He is not foolish, thoughtless or wicked. On the contrary, he will spare his suppliant and show him every kindness.’
So he spoke, and Iris, quick as the wind, sped off on her (160) mission. She came to Priam’s palace where sounds of lamentation met her. In the courtyard Priam’s sons were sitting round their father, drenching their clothes with tears, and there in the middle sat the old man wrapped up in his cloak, showing just the outline of his body, with his head and neck plastered with the dung he had gathered in his hands as he grovelled on the ground. His daughters and his sons’ wives were wailing through the house, remembering the many fine men who had lost their lives at Greek hands and now lay dead.
The messenger of Zeus stood by Priam and addressed him. (170) She spoke in a low voice, but his limbs began at once to tremble:
‘Courage, Dardanian Priam! Compose yourself and have no fears. I come here not as a messenger of evil, but of hope. And I am the messenger of Zeus who, far off as he is, is much concerned on your behalf and pities you. The Olympian orders you to ransom godlike Hector with gifts for Achilles that will warm his heart. You must go alone without a single Trojan to escort you, except maybe one of the older heralds who (180) could drive the mules and smooth-running waggon and bring back to Ilium the body of the man godlike Achilles killed. Do not think of death and have no fears whatever. The best of escorts, Hermes slayer of Argus, will remain in charge till he has brought you into Achilles’ presence. Once you are inside his hut, no one is going to kill you, neither Achilles himself nor anybody else. Achilles will see to that. He is not foolish, thoughtless or wicked. On the contrary, he will spare his suppliant and show you every kindness.’
With these words swift-footed Iris disappeared. Priam told (190) his sons to get ready a smooth-running mule-waggon with a wicker basket lashed on top. Then he went down to his high-roofed, scented store-room which was built of cedar-wood and was full of treasures. He called out to Hecabe his wife and said:
‘My dear, an Olympian messenger has come to me from Zeus and told me to ransom Hector’s body by going to the Greek ships with gifts for Achilles that will warm his heart. Tell me, what do you make of that? My own feelings impel me to go down to the ships and pay this visit to the broad Greek camp.’
(200) So he spoke, and his wife shrieked aloud and replied:
Hecabe fails to stop Priam
‘Are you mad? Where is the wisdom which people from abroad and your own subjects used to praise in you? How can you think of going by yourself to the Greek ships into the presence of a man who has killed so many of your fine sons? You must have a heart of iron. Once you are in his power, once he sets his eyes on you – that flesh-eating, faithless savage – he will show you no mercy at all nor the slightest respect.
‘No: all we can do now is sit at home and weep for our son from here. This must be the end that inexorable destiny spun (210) for him with the first thread of life when I brought him into the world – to glut the swift dogs, far from his parents, in the clutches of a monster whose very liver I would sink my teeth into and devour. That would pay him back for what he has done to my son, who was not playing the coward when Achilles killed him, but fighting, without any thought of flight or cover, in defence of the sons and full-girdled daughters of Troy.’
Venerable godlike Priam replied:
‘I am determined to go. Do not keep me back or turn into a bird of ill-omen in our palace – you will not dissuade me. If (220) any human being, a prophet or a priest, had made me this suggestion, I would have said it was a lie and disregarded it. But I personally heard the goddess’ voice: I saw her there in front of me. So I am going and the goddess’ words will not be idle. If I am destined to die by the ships of the bronze-armoured Greeks, then I choose death. Achilles can kill me then and there, once I have taken my son in my arms and wept my fill.’
Priam gathers the ransom He spoke and lifted the lovely lids of the storage-chests. From these he took out twelve beautiful robes, twelve single cloaks, as many sheets, as many white (230) mantles and as many tunics to go with them. He also weighed and took ten talents of gold; and he took two shining tripods, four cauldrons and a very lovely cup which the Thracians had given him when he went there on a mission. It was a fabulous present, but so great was his desire to ransom his beloved son that the old man did not hesitate to part with it also.
There were a number of Trojans hanging around the portico. Priam drove them all off with a stream of abuse:
‘Get out of here, you despicable, worthless wretches! Haven’t (240) you enough to weep about in your own homes without intruding on my grief as well? Or wasn’t it enough for you that Zeus son of Cronus has afflicted me with the loss of the best of sons? If so, you will soon learn better. The Greeks will find you still easier to deal with now Hector is dead. As for me, I only hope I go down to Hades’ halls before I see the town plundered and laid waste.’
He spoke and drove them off with his staff, and they fled from the quick-tempered old man. Next he shouted angrily at his sons, abusing Helenus, Paris and godlike Agathon; (250) Pammon and Antiphonus and Polites master of the battle-cry; Deiphobus, Hippothous and noble Dius. He shouted at all nine of them and told them what to do:
‘Move, you miserable, cowardly children of mine! I wish you had all been killed beside the swift ships instead of Hector. Ah, how calamity has dogged my life! I had the best sons in the broad realm of Troy. Now all of them are gone – godlike Mestor, Troilus the charioteer and Hector, a god among mortals, who looked more like a god’s son than a man’s. The War-god has (260) taken them and left me this disgraceful crew – swindlers and show-offs every one of you, stars of the song-and-dance routine, when you aren’t looting your own people of their sheep and kids. Now won’t you be so kind as to get my waggon ready at once and put in everything I need to see me on my way?’
So he spoke, and his sons were terrified by their father’s fulminations and quickly fetched a fine new smooth-running mule-waggon and lashed a wicker basket on it. They took down from its peg a yoke of box-wood for the mules, with a knob in the middle and the proper guides for the reins; and with the (270) yoke they brought out a yoke-binding four metres long. They laid the yoke carefully on to the polished shaft, in the notch at the front end of it, slipped the ring over the pin, tied the yoke-binding round the knob with three turns either way, then wound it closely round the shaft and tucked the loose end in under the hook.
This done, they went to the store-room, fetched the immense ransom that was to buy back Hector’s body and packed it in the polished waggon. Then they yoked the sturdy mules who were trained to work in harness and had been a splendid gift to Priam from the Mysian people. Finally, they brought out Priam’s chariot and yoked to it the horses that the old man (280) kept for his own use and fed at the polished manger.
Libation and omen
As Priam and the herald, with much to occupy their thoughts, organized the yoking of the mules and horses in the high palace, they were approached by Hecabe in great distress, carrying a golden cup of delicious wine in her right hand for them to make a drink-offering before they left. She came up to the chariot and spoke to Priam:
‘Here, make a libation to Father Zeus and pray for your safe return from the enemy’s hands, since you are set on going to the ships. You go against my will, but if go you must, address your (290) prayer to Zeus son of Cronus who darkens the clouds, god of Mount Ida, who sees the whole region of Troy spread out beneath him. Ask for a bird of omen, a swift ambassador from him. And let it be his favourite prophetic bird, the strongest thing on wings, flying on your right so that you can see it with your own eyes and put your trust in it as you go down to the ships of the Greeks with their swift horses. But if far-thundering Zeus refuses to send you his messenger, I should advise you not to go down to the Greek ships, however much you may have set your heart on it.’
Godlike Priam replied and said:
(300) ‘My dear, I will surely do as you suggest. It is a good thing to lift up one’s hands to Zeus and ask him to have pity.’
The old man spoke and told his housekeeper to pour pure water over his hands. She brought a jug and basin and attended on him. When he had washed his hands, he took the cup from his wife, went to the middle of the forecourt to pray, looked up into the sky as he poured out the wine and said:
‘Father Zeus, you that rule from Mount Ida, greatest and most glorious! Grant that Achilles receives me with kindness (310) and mercy; and send me a bird of omen, your swift ambassador, your favourite prophetic bird, the strongest thing on wings, flying on my right, so I can see it with my own eyes and put my trust in it as I go down to the ships of the Greeks with their swift horses.’
So he spoke in prayer, and Zeus wise in counsel heard him and instantly sent out an eagle, the most perfect of prophetic birds, the dusky hunter they call the golden eagle, whose spread wings would span the width of a well-bolted door of the lofty (320) chamber in a rich man’s house. They saw it flying on their right across the town and were overjoyed at the sight. It warmed the hearts of everyone.
The old man quickly mounted his chariot and drove out by the gateway and its echoing colonnade. He was preceded by the four-wheeled waggon, drawn by the mules and driven by wise Idaeus. Then came Priam’s chariot. The old man used his whip and drove it quickly through the town; yet even so his whole family kept up with him, lamenting incessantly as though he were going to his death. But when they had made their way (330) down through the streets and reached the plain, the people, his sons and sons-in-law, turned back into Ilium and went home.
Far-thundering Zeus saw the two men strike out across the plain. He felt pity for the old man and immediately said to his son Hermes:
[Night 39] HERMES accompanies Priam
‘Hermes, escorting men is your greatest pleasure, and you listen to the requests of those you favour. So off you go now and conduct lord Priam to the Greeks’ hollow ships in such a way that not a single Greek sees and recognizes him till he reaches Achilles.’
So he spoke, and the guide and slayer of Argus complied, and (340) bound under his feet his lovely sandals, golden and imperishable, that carried him with the speed of the wind over the water and the boundless earth; and he picked up the wand which he can use at will to cast a spell on men’s eyes or wake them from sleep. With this wand in his hand the mighty slayer of Argus made his flight and soon reached Troy and the Hellespont. There he proceeded on foot, looking like a young lord at that most charming age when the beard first starts to grow.
Meanwhile the two men had driven past the great grave- (350) mound of Ilus and stopped their mules and horses for a drink at the river. Night was coming on by now. When Hermes was quite close to them, the herald Idaeus looked up and saw him, and said to Priam:
‘Look out, Priam. We must be very careful. I can see someone. I think we’re going to be butchered. Quick, let’s make our escape in the chariot, or if not that, fall at his knees and beg him for mercy.’
So he spoke, and the old man was completely bewildered and filled with terror; the hairs stood up on his bent limbs; he stood (360) there, paralysed. But Hermes the runner went straight up to Priam, took him by the hand, questioned him and said:
HERMES wins Priam’s trust
‘Father, where are you driving to with those horses and mules through the immortal night when everyone else is asleep? Aren’t you afraid of the Greeks, breathing courage, those deadly enemies of yours, so close at hand? If any one of them saw you coming through the black night with such a valuable load, what could you do? You are not young enough to cope with anyone that might assault you; and your companion is an old man too. However, I certainly (370) do not mean you harm. In fact, I am going to see that no one else molests you; for you remind me of my own father.’
The old man godlike Priam replied:
‘Our plight, dear child, is very much as you describe. But even so some god must have extended a protecting hand over me when he let me fall in with a traveller like you, who come as a godsend, so distinguished are your looks and bearing, as well as your good sense. Your parents must be blessed.’
The guide and slayer of Argus replied:
(380) ‘Sir, everything you have said is right. Now answer my questions and tell me exactly. Are you sending a splendid haul of treasure to some place of safety in a foreign land? Or has the time come when you are all deserting sacred Ilium in panic at the loss of your greatest warrior, your own son, who never let anyone down in battle against the enemy?’
The old man godlike Priam replied:
‘Who are you, good sir? Who are your parents? How wonderfully you speak to me of the fate of my unhappy son.’
The guide and slayer of Argus replied:
(390) ‘You’re testing me, venerable sir, and trying to discover what I know about godlike Hector. Well, I have seen him with my own eyes – and seen him often – in battle where men win glory. And what’s more, I saw him drive back the Greeks on to their own ships and mow them down with his sharp spear, while we Myrmidons stood by and marvelled, since Achilles would not let us fight, having quarrelled with lord Agamemnon.
‘I am the attendant of Achilles and came here in the same good ship as he. I am a Myrmidon, and my father is Polyctor, a rich man and about as old as yourself. He has seven sons, of (400) whom I am the youngest; and when we drew lots, it fell to me to join the expedition here. Tonight I left the ships and came out on to the plain because at daybreak the dark-eyed Greeks are intending to assault the town. They are tired of just sitting there and so eager for a fight that the Greek leaders cannot hold them back.’
The old man godlike Priam replied:
‘If you really are an attendant of Peleus’ son Achilles, come, tell me the whole truth: is my son still by the ships, or has Achilles already cut him up and thrown him piecemeal to his dogs?’
(410) The guide and slayer of Argus replied:
‘So far, venerable sir, neither the dogs nor birds of prey have eaten him. His body is intact and lies there in Achilles’ hut beside his ship, just as it was. And though he has been there for eleven days, his flesh has not decayed at all nor has it been attacked by the worms that devour the bodies of men killed in battle. It is true that every day when bright Dawn appears Achilles drags him mercilessly round the grave-mound of his beloved companion; but that does not defile him. If you went into his hut yourself, you would be astonished to see him lying there as fresh as dew, the blood all washed away and not a mark on (420) him. His wounds too have healed, every wound he had; and there were many men who stabbed him with their spears. This shows what care the blessed gods are taking of your son, dead though he is, because he was very dear to them.’
So he spoke, and the old man rejoiced and said:
‘My child, what an excellent thing it is to give the gods their proper offerings! I am thinking of my son – if ever he was my son – and how he never neglected the gods of Olympus in our home. That is why they are repaying him like this, even though he has met his destiny and died. But here, accept this beautiful (430) cup from me, keep me safe and, under the protecting hand of the gods, escort me till I reach Achilles’ hut.’
The guide and slayer of Argus replied:
‘You are an old man, sir, and I am young, and you are testing me. But you will not persuade me when you tell me to take a bribe behind Achilles’ back. I fear and respect my master too deeply to defraud him: the consequences for myself might be severe. However, I am ready to serve you as escort all the way to my home in famous Thessaly in Greece and to assist you loyally on board ship or on foot. No one would attack you through underestimating your guard.’
(440) Hermes the runner spoke and leapt into the chariot, seized the whip and reins in his hands and put fresh heart into the horses and mules. When they came to the ditch and the wall round the ships, they found the sentries just beginning to prepare a meal. But the guide and slayer of Argus put them all to sleep, unfastened the gates, thrust back the bars and ushered Priam in with his waggon-load of precious gifts.
They went on to the lofty hut of Peleus’ son Achilles. The (450) Myrmidons had built it for their master with planks of deal cut by themselves and roofed it over with a rough thatch of reeds gathered in the meadows. It stood in the large enclosure they made for their master surrounded by a close-set fence, and the gate was fastened by a single pine-wood bar. It took three men to drive this mighty bolt home and three to draw it back; three ordinary men, of course – Achilles could work it by himself. Now Hermes the runner opened it up for the old man, drove in with the splendid presents for swift-footed Achilles, dismounted from the chariot and said to Priam:
Priam left in Achilles’ hut
(460) ‘Venerable sir, an immortal god has been accompanying you. I am Hermes and my father sent me as your escort. But I shall leave you now, as I do not intend to enter into Achilles’ presence. It would be reprehensible for mortals to entertain an immortal god face to face in that way. But go inside yourself, clasp Achilles’ knees and, as you supplicate him, invoke his father and his lovely-haired mother and his son, if you want your words to go straight to his heart.’
With these words Hermes went off to high Olympus. Priam (470) leapt from his chariot to the ground and, leaving Idaeus there to look after the horses and mules, walked straight into the hut where Achilles dear to Zeus usually sat. He found him inside. Most of his men were sitting some way off, but two of them, the warrior Automedon and Alcimedon ally of the War-god, were waiting on him busily, as he had just finished eating and drinking and the table had not yet been removed. Great Priam came in unobserved by them, went up to Achilles, grasped his knees and kissed his hands, those terrible, man-slaying hands (480) that had killed so many of his sons. As a thick cloud of delusion possesses a man who, after murdering someone in his own country, seeks refuge abroad in the home of a wealthy man, and the onlookers are astounded, so Achilles was astounded when he saw godlike Priam. The others were astounded too and exchanged glances.
Supplicating Achilles, Priam addressed him:
Priam supplicates Achilles
‘Remember your own father, godlike Achilles, who is the same age as I am and on the threshold of miserable old age. No doubt his neighbours are tormenting him and there is nobody to protect him from the harm and damage (490) they cause. Yet, while he knows you are still alive, he can rejoice in spirit and look forward day by day to seeing his beloved son come back from Troy.
‘But my life has been dogged by calamity. I had the best sons in the whole of this broad realm and now not one, not one I say, is left. There were fifty when the Greek army arrived. Nineteen of them were borne by one mother and the rest to other women in my palace. Most of them have fallen in action, and the only one I could still count on, the mainstay of Ilium (500) and its inhabitants – you killed him a short while ago, fighting for his native land. Hector. It is to get him back from you that I have now come to the Greek ships, bringing an immense ransom with me.
‘Achilles, respect the gods and have pity on me, remembering your own father. I am even more entitled to pity, since I have brought myself to do something no one else on earth has done – I have raised to my lips the hands of the man who killed my sons.’
With these words he awoke in Achilles a longing to weep for his own father. Taking the old man’s hand, Achilles gently put him from him, and they were both overcome by their (510) memories: Priam, huddled at Achilles’ feet, wept aloud for man-slaying Hector, and Achilles wept for his father, and then again for Patroclus. The house was filled with the sounds of their lamentation. But when godlike Achilles had had enough of tears and the longing had ebbed from mind and body, he leapt at once from his chair and in compassion for the old man’s grey head and grey beard took him by the arm and raised him. Then he spoke winged words:
Achilles counsels Priam
‘Unhappy man of sorrows, you have indeed suffered much. How could you bring yourself to come alone to the Greek ships into the presence of a man (520) who had killed so many of your fine sons? You must have a heart of iron. Here now, be seated on this chair and, for all our grief, let us leave our sorrows locked up in our hearts, for weeping is cold comfort and does little good. We men are wretched creatures and the gods have woven grief into our lives: but they themselves are free from care.
‘Zeus who delights in thunder has two jars standing on the floor of his palace in which he keeps his gifts, evils in one and blessings in the other. People who receive from him a mixture of (530) the two enjoy varying fortunes, sometimes good and sometimes bad. But when Zeus serves a man from the jar of evil only, he debases him; ruinous hunger drives him over the bright earth and he goes his way respected by no one, god or man.
‘Look at my father Peleus. From the moment he was born, the gods showered splendid gifts on him, fortune and wealth unparalleled among men, lordship over the Myrmidons and, though he was a man, a goddess for his wife. But the god also gave him his share of evil – no children in his palace to (540) follow in his steps, only a single son and he destined for an untimely death. What is more, even though he is growing old, he gets no care from me because I am sitting around here in Troy far from the land of my fathers, seeing to you and your children.
‘Now we have heard, venerable sir, there was a time when fortune smiled on you. They say there was no one to compare with you for wealth and sons in all the lands that are enclosed between Lesbos out to sea where Macar reigned, Phrygia inland and the vast Hellespont. But ever since the Sky-gods brought me here to be your scourge, there has been nothing but warfare and carnage round your city.
(550) ‘Endure and do not mourn without end. Lamenting for your son will do no good at all. You will not bring him back to life before you are dead yourself.’
The old man godlike Priam replied:
‘Do not ask me to sit down, Olympian-born Achilles, while Hector lies neglected in your huts, but give him back to me without delay and let me set my eyes on him. Accept the great ransom I bring. May you enjoy it and return safely to the land of your fathers, since from the very first you spared my life.’
Looking blackly at him swift-footed Achilles replied:
(560) ‘Now don’t push me too far, venerable sir. I have made my mind up without your help to give Hector back to you. A messenger from Zeus came to me – my very own mother that bore me, daughter of the Old Man of the Sea. What’s more, I know all about you, Priam; you cannot hide the fact that some god brought you to the Greek ships. Nobody, not even a young man, would venture by himself into our camp. For one thing, he would never get past the sentries; and if he did, he would find it hard to shift the bar across the gate. So don’t provoke my grief-stricken heart any more, sir, or I may break the commands (570) of Zeus and, suppliant though you are in my huts, fail to spare your life.’
So he spoke, and the old man was afraid and did as he was told. Then, like a lion, Achilles leapt out of doors, taking with him two of his attendants, the warrior Automedon and Alcimedon, the men closest to him after the dead Patroclus. They unyoked the horses and the mules, brought in the herald, old Priam’s crier, and sat him down. Then they took out of the polished waggon the immense ransom for Hector’s body. But (580) they left a couple of white mantles and a well-woven tunic in which Achilles could wrap the body when he gave it to Priam to take home.
Hector’s body is returned
Achilles then called out some waiting-women and told them to wash and anoint the body but in another part of his quarters, so that Priam should not see his son. Achilles was afraid that Priam, if he saw him, might in the bitterness of his grief be unable to control his anger; and then his own feelings would be provoked into killing the old man and breaking the commands of Zeus. When the waiting-women had washed and anointed the body with olive-oil and wrapped it in the fine mantle and tunic, Achilles lifted it with his own (590) hands on to a bier, and his comrades helped him to put it in the well-polished waggon. Then he gave a groan and called on his dear companion by name:
‘Patroclus, do not be indignant with me if you learn, down in the halls of Hades, that I let his father have godlike Hector back. The ransom he paid me was a worthy one and I will see that you receive your proper share of it.’
Godlike Achilles spoke and returned to his hut, sat down on the inlaid chair he had left – it was on the wall opposite Priam and said:
‘Your demands are granted, venerable sir: your son has been (600) released. He is lying on the bier and at daybreak you will see him for yourself as you take him away. Now let us turn our thoughts to food.
Achilles and Priam eat (Niobe’s story)
‘Even lovely-haired Niobe remembered to eat -and that was after she had seen her twelve children done to death in her own house, six daughters and six sons in their prime. Artemis who delights in arrows had killed the daughters; and Apollo with his silver bow shot down the sons. He was furious with Niobe for seeing herself as the equal of their own mother, lovely-cheeked Leto, and contrasting the many children she had produced with the two that Leto bore. Yet that pair, though they were only two, killed (610) all of hers; and for nine days the children lay in pools of blood, as there was no one to bury them, Zeus son of Cronus having turned the people into stone. But on the tenth day the Sky-gods buried them, and Niobe, exhausted by her tears, made up her mind to take some food. And now, turned to stone, she stands among the crags in the lonely hills of Sipylus – where people say the Nymphs, when they have been dancing on the banks of River Achelous, lay themselves down to sleep. There Niobe broods on the desolation the gods dealt her.
‘So now, venerable lord, let us two also think of food. Later, you can weep once more for your son, when you take him into (620) Ilium. He will indeed be much mourned.’
Swift Achilles spoke, leapt up and slaughtered a white sheep which his men skinned and carefully prepared in the usual manner. They deftly chopped it up into small pieces, pierced the pieces on spits, roasted them carefully and then withdrew them from the fire. Automedon fetched some bread and set it out on the table in handsome baskets; Achilles divided the meat into portions; and they helped themselves to the good things spread before them.
Their hunger and thirst satisfied, Dardanian Priam let his eyes (630) dwell on Achilles and saw with admiration how large and handsome he was, the very image of the gods. And Achilles dwelt with equal admiration on the noble looks and utterance of Dardanian Priam. When they had had their fill of gazing on each other, the old man godlike Priam spoke first:
‘Send me to bed now, Olympian-bred Achilles, so that Idaeus and I can get our fill of sweet sleep. My eyelids have not closed over my eyes since the moment my son lost his life at your hands. Ever since then, I have been lamenting and brooding (640) over my countless sorrows, grovelling in the dung in my stable-yard. Now at last I have tasted some food and poured sparkling wine down my throat; but before that I had tasted nothing.’
He spoke, and Achilles instructed his men and waiting-women to put beds in the portico and cover them with fine purple rugs, spread blankets over these and add some thick cloaks on top for covering. Torches in hand, the women left the room and set to work preparing the two beds. Now swift-footed Achilles spoke to Priam, causing him some agitation:
(650) ‘Sleep out of doors, old friend, in case some Greek counsellor pays me a visit. They always come here to discuss tactics with me – it is our custom. If one of them were to see you here at dead of night, he would at once tell Agamemnon shepherd of the people, and your recovery of the body would be delayed. (A truce agreed) Now answer my question and tell me exactly how many days you propose to devote to godlike Hector’s funeral, so that I myself refrain from fighting and ensure the army does too for that space of time.’
The old man godlike Priam replied:
(660) ‘If you really wish me to give godlike Hector a proper funeral, you would do me a kindness, Achilles, by acting as follows. You know how we are cooped up in the town; it is a long journey to the mountains to fetch wood, and the Trojans are afraid of making it. We would be nine days mourning Hector in our homes. On the tenth we would bury him and hold the funeral feast, and on the eleventh build him a grave-mound. On the twelfth we will fight, if we really have to.’
Swift-footed godlike Achilles replied:
‘Venerable Priam, everything shall be as you require. I will (670) hold up the fighting for the time you have demanded.’
With these words he took the old man by the wrist of his right hand to banish all fear from his heart. So Priam and the herald settled down for the night there in the forecourt of the building, with much to occupy their thoughts. But Achilles slept in a corner of his well-made hut; and fair-cheeked Briseis slept beside him.
HERMES escorts Priam
The other gods and fighting men slept through the night, conquered by soft sleep. But Hermes the runner kept wondering how he was going to bring lord Priam away from the ships without the guards noticing; and he could not get to sleep. So he went and stood over Priam’s head and said:
‘Venerable sir, since Achilles spared you, you seem to have no misgivings left, to judge by how soundly you sleep among your enemies. Just now you ransomed your son’s body at a great price: your sons that are left would have to give three times as much to ransom you alive, if Agamemnon son of Atreus and the whole Greek army got to know you were here.’
So he spoke, and the old man was afraid and woke up his (690) herald. Hermes then yoked the mules and horses for them and drove them quickly through the camp himself; they passed unrecognized. As saffron-robed Dawn spread over the world, they reached the ford of the sweetly flowing river, eddying Scamander whose father is immortal Zeus. There Hermes set out for high Olympus; and the two men, groaning and lamenting, drove the horses on towards the town while the mules came along with the body.
9[Day 40] Priam returns to Ilium Cassandra, who looked like golden Aphrodite, was the first among the men and women of Troy to recognize them as (700) they came. She had climbed to the top of Pergamus and from that point she saw her dear father standing in the chariot with the herald, his town-crier. Then she saw him too, lying on the bier in the mule-waggon. She gave a scream and shouted aloud for all the town to hear:
‘Trojans and women of Troy, if ever in the past you welcomed Hector back when he came home safe from battle – a moment for everyone in the town to rejoice – come out and see him now!’
So she spoke, and the whole town was plunged into inconsolable grief. Soon there was not a man or woman left in Ilium. They met Priam with Hector’s body at no great distance from the gates. His dear wife and lady mother threw themselves on 710 the smooth-running waggon, to be the first to tear their hair in mourning for him and touch his head. They were surrounded by a weeping throng. Indeed, they would have stayed there by the gates and wept for Hector all day long till sunset, if the old man had not spoken out from his chariot:
‘Let me through with the mules. You can mourn for Hector to your hearts’ content when I have got him home.’
So he spoke, and they fell back on either side and made a passage for the waggon. When the family had brought Hector (720) into the palace, they laid him on an elaborate bed and set beside him dirge-singers to lead the laments and chant their melancholy songs, while the women took up the cry. White-armed Andromache, holding the head of man-slaying Hector between her hands, began her dirge:
Andromache’s lament (22.477)
‘Husband, you were too young to die and leave me widowed in our home. Your son, the boy we luckless parents brought into the world, is but a little baby. And I have no hope that he will grow to manhood: Ilium will come tumbling to the ground before that can ever be. For you, her guardian, have perished, you that watched (730) over her, you that kept her cherished wives and little babies safe. They will be carried off soon in the hollow ships, and I with them.
‘And you, my child, will go with me to labour somewhere at degrading tasks under the eye of a merciless master; or some Greek will seize you by the arm and hurl you from the walls to an ugly death, venting his fury on you because Hector perhaps killed a brother of his, maybe, or else a father, or a son. Yes, at Hector’s hands many a Greek bit the dust of the broad earth; for your father was no gentle soul in the cruelty of battle.
(740) ‘And that is why everyone in Ilium now laments him. Ah, Hector, you have brought untold tears and misery to your parents. But my grief is cruellest of all, because you did not die reaching out from our bed to me with your arms, or utter some memorable word I might have treasured night and day through my tears.’
So she spoke in tears, and the women took up the cry. Hecabe now led the women in a shrill lament:
Hecabe’s lament
‘Hector, dearest to me of all my sons, you were dear to the (750) gods too while you were with me in the world; and even now you have met your destiny and died, it turns out they still care for you. Swift-footed Achilles took other sons of mine and sent them over the murmuring seas for sale in Samothrace or in Imbros or in misty Lemnos. And he took your life with his long spear; but though he dragged you many times round the grave-mound of Patroclus, the companion of his you killed, that did not bring Patroclus back to life. But you have come home to me fresh as the dew and lie in the palace like one whom Apollo lord of the silver bow has visited and put to death with his gentle shafts.’
(760) So she spoke in tears, and aroused unbridled grief. Helen then led them in a third lament:
Helen’s lament
‘Hector, dearest to me of all my Trojan brothers, godlike Paris brought me here to Troy and married me – I wish I had perished first – but in all the nineteen years since I came away and left the land of my fathers, I never heard a single harsh or spiteful word from you. Others in the palace insulted me – your brothers, your sisters, your brothers’ (770) well-robed wives and your mother, though your father was the soul of kindness. But you calmed them down every time and stopped them out of the gentleness of your heart, with your gentle words. So these tears of sorrow I shed are both for you and for my luckless self. No one else is left in the wide realm of Troy to treat me kindly and befriend me. They all shudder at me.’
So she spoke in tears, and the vast multitude took up the cry. Now the old man Priam spoke to the people:
‘Trojans, bring firewood to the town and do not be afraid of (780) a Greek ambush. Achilles assured me, when he let me leave the black ships, that they would do us no harm till the dawn of the twelfth day from then.’
[Day 49 and 50] Cremation; burial
So he spoke, and they yoked mules and bullocks to their waggons and assembled speedily outside the town. Over nine days they gathered a huge supply of wood. When the dawn of the tenth day brought light to the world, they carried out daring Hector, weeping, laid his body on top of the pyre and lit it.
But when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, the people flocked together round glorious Hector’s pyre. When (790) everyone had assembled and the gathering was complete, they first put out with sparkling wine whatever was still burning. Then Hector’s brothers and comrades-in-arms collected his white bones, lamenting and with many a tear running down their cheeks. They took the bones, wrapped them in soft purple clothing and put them in the golden coffin. This coffin they immediately lowered into a hollow grave which they covered with a close-set layer of large stones. They hurriedly piled up earth over it to mark the grave-mound, posting guards all round (800) in case the Greeks launched a premature attack. When they had piled up the mound, they returned into the city and reassembled for a magnificent funeral feast in the palace of Priam their Olympian-bred ruler.
Such were the funeral rites of horse-taming Hector.