Book XXIV

with me when the men of Greece Arrived upon our coast; nineteen of these Owned the same mother, and the rest were born Within my palaces. Remorseless Mars Already had laid lifeless most of these, And Hector, whom I cherished most, whose arm Defended both our city and ourselves, Him didst thou lately slay while combating For his dear country. For his sake I come To the Greek fleet, and to redeem his corse I bring uncounted ransom. O, revere The gods, Achilles, and be merciful, Calling to mind thy father! Happier he Than I; for I have borne what no man else That dwells on earth could bear⁠—have laid my lips Upon the hand of him who slew my son.” He spake: Achilles sorrowfully thought Of his own father. By the hand he took The suppliant, and with gentle force removed The old man from him. Both in memory Of those they loved were weeping. The old king, With many tears, and rolling in the dust Before Achilles, mourned his gallant son. Achilles sorrowed for his father’s sake, And then bewailed Patroclus, and the sound Of lamentation filled the tent. At last Achilles, when he felt his heart relieved By tears, and that strong grief had spent its force, Sprang from his seat; then lifting by the hand The aged man, and pitying his white head And his white chin, he spake these wingèd words:⁠—