So spake he weeping, and the elders sighed To see his tears, as each recalled to mind Those whom he left at home, while Saturn’s son Beheld their grief with pity, and bespake His daughter Pallas thus with wingèd words:⁠—

“My child, wilt thou desert that valiant man? And shall Achilles be no more thy care? Lo, by his ships, before their lofty prows, He sits, lamenting his beloved friend. The rest are at the banquet; he remains Apart from them, and fasting. Hasten thou; With nectar and ambrosial sweets refresh His frame, that hunger overtake him not.”