So spake the goddess-queen, and, speaking, took Her mantle—darker web was never worn— And onward went. Wind-footed Iris led The way; the waters of the sea withdrew On either side. They climbed the steepy shore, And took their way to heaven. They found the son Of Saturn, him of the far-sounding voice, With all the blessed, ever-living gods Assembled round him. Close to Father Jove She took her seat, for Pallas yielded it, And Juno put a beautiful cup of gold Into her hand, and spake consoling words. She drank and gave it back, and thus began The father of immortals and of men:—
“Thou comest to Olympus, though in grief, O goddess Thetis, and I know the cause That makes thee sad and will not from thy thoughts; Yet let me now declare why I have called Thee hither. For nine days the immortal gods Have been at strife concerning Hector’s corse And Peleus’ son, the spoiler. They have asked The vigilant Argus-queller to remove The dead by stealth. But I must yet bestow Fresh honor on Achilles, and thus keep Thy love and reverence. Now descend at once Into the camp and carry to thy son My message: say that it offends the gods, And me the most, that in his spite he keeps The corse of Hector at the beaked ships, Refusing to restore it. He perchance Will listen, and, revering me, give back The slain. And I will send a messenger, Iris, to large-souled Priam, bidding him Hasten in person to the Grecian fleet, To ransom his beloved son, and bring Achilles gifts that shall appease his rage.”
He spake: the goddess of the silver feet, Thetis, obeyed, and with precipitate flight Descended from the mountain-peaks. She came To her son’s tent, and found him uttering moans Continually, while his beloved friends Were busy round him; they prepared a feast, And had just slain within the tent a ewe Of ample size and fleece. She took her seat Beside her son, and smoothed his brow, and said:—
“How long, my son, wilt thou lament and grieve And pine at heart, abstaining from the feast And from thy couch? Yet well it is to seek A