them To pass beyond their gates. The elder chiefs Implored him to relent, and offered him Large presents; he refused to avert the doom That threatened them himself, but sent instead Patroclus to the war with his own arms, And with him sent much people. All the day They fought before the Scaean gates; and then Had Ilium fallen, but that Apollo slew The brave son of Menoetius, who had caused Vast slaughter—slew him fighting in the van Of war, and gave the glory of his death To Hector. Therefore I approach thy knees, And ask for him, my son, so soon to die, Buckler and helm, and beautiful greaves, shut close With clasps, and all the other arms complete, Which in the war my son’s companion lost. For now Achilles lies upon the ground Bitterly grieving in his inmost soul.”
And Vulcan, the great artist, answered her: “Be comforted, and take no further thought Of this; for would I could as certainly Shield him from death’s dread summons when his hour Is come at last, as I shall have for him Beautiful armor ready to put on, And such as every man, of multitudes Who look on it hereafter, shall admire.”
So speaking he