This when the monarch Agamemnon heard, Instantly he dismissed to their good ships The people. They who had the dead in charge Remained, and heaped the wood, and built a pyre A hundred feet each way from side to side. With sorrowful hearts they raised and laid the corse Upon the summit. Then they flayed and dressed Before it many fatlings of the flock, And oxen with curved feet and crooked horns. From these magnanimous Achilles took The fat, and covered with it carefully The dead from head to foot. Beside the bier, And leaning toward it, jars of honey and oil He placed, and flung, with many a deep-drawn sigh, Twelve high-necked steeds upon the pile. Nine hounds There were, which from the table of the prince Were daily fed; of these Achilles struck The heads from two, and laid them on the wood, And after these, and last, twelve gallant sons Of the brave Trojans, butchered by the sword; For he was bent on evil. To the pile He put the iron violence of fire, And, wailing, called by name the friend he loved:⁠—