The Iliad by Homer (pdf to ebook reader .TXT) 📖

a mighty monument for Patroclus and for
himself.

When they had thrown down their great logs of wood over the whole
ground, they stayed all of them where they were, but Achilles ordered
his brave Myrmidons to gird on their armour, and to yoke each man his
horses; they therefore rose, girded on their armour and mounted each
his chariot--they and their charioteers with them. The chariots went
before, and they that were on foot followed as a cloud in their tens of
thousands after. In the midst of them his comrades bore Patroclus and
covered him with the locks of their hair which they cut off and threw
upon his body. Last came Achilles with his head bowed for sorrow, so
noble a comrade was he taking to the house of Hades.

When they came to the place of which Achilles had told them they laid
the body down and built up the wood. Achilles then bethought him of
another matter. He went a space away from the pyre, and cut off the
yellow lock which he had let grow for the river Spercheius. He looked
all sorrowfully out upon the dark sea, and said, "Spercheius, in vain
did my father Peleus vow to you that when I returned home to my loved
native land I should cut off this lock and offer you a holy hecatomb;
fifty she-goats was I to sacrifice to you there at your springs, where
is your grove and your altar fragrant with burnt-offerings. Thus did my
father vow, but you have not fulfilled his prayer; now, therefore, that
I shall see my home no more, I give this lock as a keepsake to the hero
Patroclus."

As he spoke he placed the lock in the hands of his dear comrade, and
all who stood by were filled with yearning and lamentation. The sun
would have gone down upon their mourning had not Achilles presently
said to Agamemnon, "Son of Atreus, for it is to you that the people
will give ear, there is a time to mourn and a time to cease from
mourning; bid the people now leave the pyre and set about getting their
dinners: we, to whom the dead is dearest, will see to what is wanted
here, and let the other princes also stay by me."

When King Agamemnon heard this he dismissed the people to their ships,
but those who were about the dead heaped up wood and built a pyre a
hundred feet this way and that; then they laid the dead all sorrowfully
upon the top of it. They flayed and dressed many fat sheep and oxen
before the pyre, and Achilles took fat from all of them and wrapped the
body therein from head to foot, heaping the flayed carcases all round
it. Against the bier he leaned two-handled jars of honey and unguents;
four proud horses did he then cast upon the pyre, groaning the while he
did so. The dead hero had had house-dogs; two of them did Achilles slay
and threw upon the pyre; he also put twelve brave sons of noble Trojans
to the sword and laid them with the rest, for he was full of bitterness
and fury. Then he committed all to the resistless and devouring might
of the fire; he groaned aloud and called on his dead comrade by name.
"Fare well," he cried, "Patroclus, even in the house of Hades; I am now
doing all that I have promised you. Twelve brave sons of noble Trojans
shall the flames consume along with yourself, but dogs, not fire, shall
devour the flesh of Hector son of Priam."

Thus did he vaunt, but the dogs came not about the body of Hector, for
Jove's daughter Venus kept them off him night and day, and anointed him
with ambrosial oil of roses that his flesh might not be torn when
Achilles was dragging him about. Phoebus Apollo moreover sent a dark
cloud from heaven to earth, which gave shade to the whole place where
Hector lay, that the heat of the sun might not parch his body.

Now the pyre about dead Patroclus would not kindle. Achilles therefore
bethought him of another matter; he went apart and prayed to the two
winds Boreas and Zephyrus vowing them goodly offerings. He made them
many drink-offerings from the golden cup and besought them to come and
help him that the wood might make haste to kindle and the dead bodies
be consumed. Fleet Iris heard him praying and started off to fetch the
winds. They were holding high feast in the house of boisterous Zephyrus
when Iris came running up to the stone threshold of the house and stood
there, but as soon as they set eyes on her they all came towards her
and each of them called her to him, but Iris would not sit down. "I
cannot stay," she said, "I must go back to the streams of Oceanus and
the land of the Ethiopians who are offering hecatombs to the immortals,
and I would have my share; but Achilles prays that Boreas and shrill
Zephyrus will come to him, and he vows them goodly offerings; he would
have you blow upon the pyre of Patroclus for whom all the Achaeans are
lamenting."

With this she left them, and the two winds rose with a cry that rent
the air and swept the clouds before them. They blew on and on until
they came to the sea, and the waves rose high beneath them, but when
they reached Troy they fell upon the pyre till the mighty flames roared
under the blast that they blew. All night long did they blow hard and
beat upon the fire, and all night long did Achilles grasp his double
cup, drawing wine from a mixing-bowl of gold, and calling upon the
spirit of dead Patroclus as he poured it upon the ground until the
earth was drenched. As a father mourns when he is burning the bones of
his bridegroom son whose death has wrung the hearts of his parents,
even so did Achilles mourn while burning the body of his comrade,
pacing round the bier with piteous groaning and lamentation.

At length as the Morning Star was beginning to herald the light which
saffron-mantled Dawn was soon to suffuse over the sea, the flames fell
and the fire began to die. The winds then went home beyond the Thracian
sea, which roared and boiled as they swept over it. The son of Peleus
now turned away from the pyre and lay down, overcome with toil, till he
fell into a sweet slumber. Presently they who were about the son of
Atreus drew near in a body, and roused him with the noise and tramp of
their coming. He sat upright and said, "Son of Atreus, and all other
princes of the Achaeans, first pour red wine everywhere upon the fire
and quench it; let us then gather the bones of Patroclus son of
Menoetius, singling them out with care; they are easily found, for they
lie in the middle of the pyre, while all else, both men and horses, has
been thrown in a heap and burned at the outer edge. We will lay the
bones in a golden urn, in two layers of fat, against the time when I
shall myself go down into the house of Hades. As for the barrow, labour
not to raise a great one now, but such as is reasonable. Afterwards,
let those Achaeans who may be left at the ships when I am gone, build
it both broad and high."

Thus he spoke and they obeyed the word of the son of Peleus. First they
poured red wine upon the thick layer of ashes and quenched the fire.
With many tears they singled out the whitened bones of their loved
comrade and laid them within a golden urn in two layers of fat: they
then covered the urn with a linen cloth and took it inside the tent.
They marked off the circle where the barrow should be, made a
foundation for it about the pyre, and forthwith heaped up the earth.
When they had thus raised a mound they were going away, but Achilles
stayed the people and made them sit in assembly. He brought prizes from
the ships--cauldrons, tripods, horses and mules, noble oxen, women with
fair girdles, and swart iron.

The first prize he offered was for the chariot races--a woman skilled
in all useful arts, and a three-legged cauldron that had ears for
handles, and would hold twenty-two measures. This was for the man who
came in first. For the second there was a six-year old mare, unbroken,
and in foal to a he-ass; the third was to have a goodly cauldron that
had never yet been on the fire; it was still bright as when it left the
maker, and would hold four measures. The fourth prize was two talents
of gold, and the fifth a two-handled urn as yet unsoiled by smoke. Then
he stood up and spoke among the Argives saying--

"Son of Atreus, and all other Achaeans, these are the prizes that lie
waiting the winners of the chariot races. At any other time I should
carry off the first prize and take it to my own tent; you know how far
my steeds excel all others--for they are immortal; Neptune gave them to
my father Peleus, who in his turn gave them to myself; but I shall hold
aloof, I and my steeds that have lost their brave and kind driver, who
many a time has washed them in clear water and anointed their manes
with oil. See how they stand weeping here, with their manes trailing on
the ground in the extremity of their sorrow. But do you others set
yourselves in order throughout the host, whosoever has confidence in
his horses and in the strength of his chariot."

Thus spoke the son of Peleus and the drivers of chariots bestirred
themselves. First among them all uprose Eumelus, king of men, son of
Admetus, a man excellent in horsemanship. Next to him rose mighty
Diomed son of Tydeus; he yoked the Trojan horses which he had taken
from Aeneas, when Apollo bore him out of the fight. Next to him,
yellow-haired Menelaus son of Atreus rose and yoked his fleet horses,
Agamemnon's mare Aethe, and his own horse Podargus. The mare had been
given to Agamemnon by Echepolus son of Anchises, that he might not have
to follow him to Ilius, but might stay at home and take his ease; for
Jove had endowed him with great wealth and he lived in spacious Sicyon.
This mare, all eager for the race, did Menelaus put under the yoke.

Fourth in order Antilochus, son to noble Nestor son of Neleus, made
ready his horses. These were bred in Pylos, and his father came up to
him to give him good advice of which, however, he stood in but little
need. "Antilochus," said Nestor, "you are young, but Jove and Neptune
have loved you well, and have made you an excellent horseman. I need
not therefore say much by way of instruction. You are skilful at
wheeling your horses round the post, but the horses themselves are very
slow, and it is this that will, I fear, mar your chances. The other
drivers know less than you do, but their horses are fleeter; therefore,
my dear son, see if you cannot hit upon some artifice whereby you may
insure that the prize shall not slip through your fingers. The woodman
does more by skill than by brute force; by skill the pilot guides his
storm-tossed barque over the sea, and so by skill one driver can beat
another. If a man go wide in rounding this way and that, whereas a man
who knows