He spake, and sent them forth with added words Of menace. With unwilling steps they went Beside the barren deep, until they reached The tents and vessels of the Myrmidons, And found Achilles seated by his tent And his black ship; their coming pleased him not. They, moved by fear and reverence of the king, Stopped, and bespake him not, nor signified Their errand; he perceived their thought and said:—
“Hail, heralds, messengers of Jove and men! Draw near; I blame you not. I only blame Atrides, who hath sent you for the maid. Noble Patroclus! Bring the damsel forth, And let them lead her hence. My witnesses Are ye, before the blessed deities, And mortal men, and this remorseless king, If ever he shall need me to avert The doom of utter ruin from his host. Most sure it is, he madly yields himself To fatal counsels, thoughtless of the past And of the future, nor forecasting how The Greeks may fight, unvanquished, by their fleet.”
He spake. Meantime Patroclus had obeyed The word of his beloved friend. He brought The fair-cheeked maid Briseis from the tent, And she was led away. The messengers Returned to where their barques were moored, and she Unwillingly went with them. Then in tears Achilles, from his friends withdrawing, sat Beside the hoary ocean-marge, and gazed On the black deep beyond, and stretched his hands, And prayed to his dear mother, earnestly:—
“Mother! Since thou didst bring me forth to dwell Brief space on earth, Olympian Jupiter, Who thunders in the highest, should have filled That space with honors, but he grants them not. Wide-ruling Agamemnon takes and holds The prize I won, and thus dishonors me.”
Thus, shedding tears, he spake. His mother heard, Sitting within the ocean deeps, beside Her aged father. Swiftly from the waves Of the gray deep emerging like a cloud, She sat before him as he wept, and smoothed His brow with her soft hand, and kindly said:—