The heart of the invincible hero could not withstand these words and tears. He was deeply moved. The picture of his own gray-haired father rose before him and a sad longing for his embrace filled his heart. He wept aloud and bent gently down to raise the old man up, but Priam still clasped his knees tightly. Thus they both sobbed, each conscious of his own fate through the sorrow of the other. At last, when they had wept for some time, Achilles spoke. “In truth, unhappy man, thou hast been much afflicted. And yet thou hast dared to come alone and by night to the Achaian ships and to the man who has slain thy bravest sons. Thy heart is certainly strong and courageous. But come, forget thy sorrow and let me see no more of thy tears. Arise and sit here and let us calm ourselves. The gods have decreed that miserable mankind should live in sorrow, while they know naught of trouble. For many they have mixed the sad lots with the happy ones, but some receive only ill fortune, so that his whole life is a miserable failure and he is favored neither by gods nor men. Alas! neither is my father fortunate. Although the gods have bestowed worldly goods and power upon him, and although a goddess became his spouse, it is ordained that there shall be no heir to his kingdom; for alas! he shall never look upon me again, though his heart longs for me. I am not fated to return home a peaceful ruler, to enjoy a happy old age. Thus has fate robbed thee, also, of thy good son. But he is dead; therefore lament no more. Thou canst not bring him back to life. Who can do aught against the all-powerful gods?” “Bid me not sit,” sobbed the old man. “I will lie here until thou hast given me back my only beloved son, that my tears may fall upon him. But take the gifts and enjoy them in peace when thou returnest to thy native land, because thou sendest me away filled with gratitude and love.” At these words Achilles frowned and said: “Do not agitate me further, old man! Arise, for I have already determined to give thee back thy son. Do not insult me with fears and mistrust!” Silently the old man obeyed this earnest behest and rising seated himself. Meanwhile the hero, mighty as a lion, arose and went out, followed by his two friends. Before the tent they unyoked the horses and conducted the herald inside. They then took the valuable gifts out of the hamper, except two soft garments, in which they were to wrap the body of Hector. Then, unseen by the father, Achilles caused two female slaves to wash the body and to cleanse, arrange, and anoint the hair. Next the servants wrapped the body in the fine robes and Achilles himself lifted it onto the chariot and laid it on a bier prepared for it. Then he stood still a moment and said: “Do not be angry with me, Patroclus, if thou shouldst learn, perchance, in Hades’ dwelling, that I have returned Hector’s body to his unhappy father. Look, he brings me a not unworthy ransom and a share of it shall be consecrated to thee.”