Book XXIV

a lion leaped Forth from the door, yet not alone he went; For of his comrades two⁠—Automedon, The hero, and his comrade Alcimus, He whom Achilles held in most esteem After the slain Patroclus⁠—followed him. The mules and horses they unyoked, and led The aged monarch’s clear-voiced herald in, And bade him sit. Then from the polished car They took the costly ransom of the corse Of Hector, save two cloaks, which back they laid With a fair tunic, that their chief might give The body shrouded to be borne to Troy. And then he called the maidens, bidding them Wash and anoint the dead, yet far apart From Priam, lest, with looking on his son, The grief within his heart might rise uncurbed To anger, and Achilles in his rage Might stay him and transgress the laws of Jove. And when the handmaids finished, having washed The body and anointed it with oil, And wrapped a sumptuous cloak and tunic round The limbs, Achilles lifted it himself And placed it on a bier. His comrades gave Their aid, and raised it to the polished car. When all was done, Achilles groaned, and called By name the friend he dearly loved, and said:⁠—