“Achilles, sleepest thou, forgetting me? Never of me unmindful in my life, Thou dost neglect me dead. O, bury me Quickly, and give me entrance through the gates Of Hades; for the souls, the forms of those Who live no more, repulse me, suffering not That I should join their company beyond The river, and I now must wander round The spacious portals of the House of Death. Give me thy hand, I pray; for never more Shall I return to earth when once the fire Shall have consumed me. Never shall we take Counsel together, living, as we sit Apart from our companions; the hard fate Appointed me at birth hath drawn me down. Thou too, O godlike man, wilt fall beneath The ramparts of the noble sons of Troy. Yet this I ask, and if thou wilt obey, This I command thee⁠—not to let my bones Be laid apart from thine. As we were reared Under thy roof together, from the time When first Menoetius brought thee, yet a boy, From Opus, where I caused a sorrowful death;⁠— For by my hand, when wrangling at the dice,