Book XXIV

“Great have thy sufferings been, unhappy king! How couldst thou venture to approach alone The Grecian fleet, and show thyself to him Who slew so many of thy valiant sons? An iron heart is thine. But seat thyself, And let us, though afflicted grievously, Allow our woes to sleep awhile, for grief Indulged can bring no good. The gods ordain The lot of man to suffer, while themselves Are free from care. Beside Jove’s threshold stand Two casks of gifts for man. One cask contains The evil, one the good, and he to whom The Thunderer gives them mingled sometimes falls Into misfortune, and is sometimes crowned With blessings. But the man to whom he gives The evil only stands a mark exposed To wrong, and, chased by grim calamity, Wanders the teeming earth, alike unloved By gods and men. So did the gods bestow Munificent gifts on Peleus from his birth, For eminent was he among mankind For wealth and plenty; o’er the Myrmidons He ruled, and, though a mortal, he was given A goddess for a wife. Yet did the gods Add evil to the good, for not to him Was born a family of kingly sons Within his house, successors to his reign. One short-lived son is his, nor am I there To cherish him in his old age; but here Do I remain, far from my native land, In Troy, and causing grief to thee and thine. Of thee too, aged king, they speak, as one Whose wealth was large in former days, when all That Lesbos, seat of Macar, owns was thine, And all in Phrygia and the shores that bound The Hellespont; men said thou didst excel All others in thy riches and thy sons. But since the gods have brought this strife on thee War and perpetual slaughter of brave men Are round thy city. Yet be firm of heart, Nor grieve forever. Sorrow for thy son Will profit nought; it cannot bring the dead To life again, and while thou dost afflict Thyself for him fresh woes may fall on thee.”