Book XXIV

BOOK XXIV

THE assembly now broke up and the people went their ways each to

his own ship. There they made ready their supper, and then

bethought them of the blessed boon of sleep; but Achilles still

wept for thinking of his dear comrade, and sleep, before whom all

things bow, could take no hold upon him. This way and that did he

turn as he yearned after the might and manfulness of Patroclus;

he thought of all they had done together, and all they had gone

through both on the field of battle and on the waves of the weary

sea. As he dwelt on these things he wept bitterly and lay now on

his side, now on his back, and now face downwards, till at last

he rose and went out as one distraught to wander upon the

seashore. Then, when he saw dawn breaking over beach and sea, he

yoked his horses to his chariot, and bound the body of Hector

behind it that he might drag it about. Thrice did he drag it

round the tomb of the son of Menoetius, and then went back into

his tent, leaving the body on the ground full length and with its

face downwards. But Apollo would not suffer it to be disfigured,

for he pitied the man, dead though he now was; therefore he

shielded him with his golden aegis continually, that he might

take no hurt while Achilles was dragging him.

Thus shamefully did Achilles in his fury dishonour Hector; but

the blessed gods looked down in pity from heaven, and urged

Mercury, slayer of Argus, to steal the body. All were of this

mind save only Juno, Neptune, and Jove's grey-eyed daughter, who

persisted in the hate which they had ever borne towards Ilius

with Priam and his people; for they forgave not the wrong done

them by Alexandrus in disdaining the goddesses who came to him

when he was in his sheepyards, and preferring her who had offered

him a wanton to his ruin.

When, therefore, the morning of the twelfth day had now come,

Phoebus Apollo spoke among the immortals saying, "You gods ought

to be ashamed of yourselves; you are cruel and hard-hearted. Did

not Hector burn you thigh-bones of heifers and of unblemished

goats? And now dare you not rescue even his dead body, for his

wife to look upon, with his mother and child, his father Priam,

and his people, who would forthwith commit him to the flames, and

give him his due funeral rites? So, then, you would all be on the

side of mad Achilles, who knows neither right nor ruth? He is

like some savage lion that in the pride of his great strength and

daring springs upon men's flocks and gorges on them. Even so has

Achilles flung aside all pity, and all that