Book IX

the palace, quite unseen Of watching men and of the serving maids. I fled through spacious Hellas to the fields Of Phthia, nurse of flocks, and to her king, Peleus, who kindly welcomed me, and loved Me as a father loves his only son, Born to large wealth in his declining years. He made me rich, and gave me sovereign rule Over much people. My abode was fixed In farthest Phthia, where I was the prince Of the Dolopians. As for thee, my care, Godlike Achilles, made thee what thou art. I loved thee from my soul: thou wouldst not go With any other to the feast, nor take Thy food at home until upon my knees I placed thee, carved thy meats, and gave them thee, And poured thy wine. The tunic on my breast Was often wetted by thee when the wine Gushed in thy petulant childhood from thy lips. Thus many things did I endure for thee, And many toils perform; and since the gods Vouchsafed no son to me, it was my thought To train thee as a son, that thou mightst be, O godlike man! the bulwark of my age. And now subdue that mighty spirit of thine: Ill it becomes thee to be merciless: The gods themselves are placable, though far Above us all in honor and in power And virtue. We propitiate them with vows, Incense, libations, and burnt-offerings, And prayers for those who have offended. Prayers Are daughters of almighty Jupiter⁠— Lame, wrinkled, and squint-eyed⁠—that painfully Follow Misfortune’s steps; but strong of limb And swift of foot Misfortune is, and, far Outstripping all, comes first to every land, And there wreaks evil on mankind, which prayers Do afterwards redress. Whoe’er receives Jove’s daughters reverently when they approach, Him willingly they aid, and to his suit They listen. Whosoever puts them by With obstinate denial, they appeal To Jove, the son of Saturn, and entreat That he will cause Misfortune to attend The offender’s way in life, that he in turn May suffer evil and be punished thus. Wherefore, Achilles! do thou also yield The honor due Jove’s daughters, freely given By other valiant men. If Atreus’ son Brought thee no gifts, nor promised others still, But kept his anger, I would never ask That thou shouldst lay aside thy wrath and come To help the Argives in their bitter need. But he bestows large gifts,