He reëntered the tent and seated himself opposite his two guests. “Now thou canst rest content, old man,” he said. “Thy son is ransomed and lies on thy chariot wrapped in fine garments. Now let us partake of food and comfort our hearts. Even Niobe did not forget to eat, although her heart was torn by bitter sorrow when Artemis had slain her six blooming daughters in one day and Apollo her six splendid sons. So let us feast. Thou canst mourn for thy son at home, for he is doubtless worthy of thy tears.” With these words Achilles got up quickly, fetched a sheep and killed it. His companions cut up the meat and roasted it carefully on spits. Then they sat down at table, Automedon passed bread in a basket, but Achilles himself served the meat, and they all ate and drank their fill. The old man admired and wondered at the splendid proportions of the great hero, his godlike mien, and his bold and fiery glance. But Achilles too was amazed at heart when he noted the awe-inspiring, majestic demeanor and the dignified countenance of the king and heard his words of wisdom. When they had finished eating, Priam said: “Now, godlike host, take me to a place, I beg thee, where we may refresh ourselves with slumber; for I have not closed my eyes since my son sank down among the dead, and this is the first food and drink that have passed my lips.” Achilles commanded his comrades to prepare a couch for Priam and his companion in the porch. The maids brought soft cushions and warm blankets, arranged them all, and lighted the strangers out with their torches. Achilles accompanied the king to the door and pressed his hand at parting. A few hours’ sleep sufficed for the old man. Then he arose to awaken Achilles, for he was anxious to start before daybreak. “Restless old man,” said Achilles kindly, “depart then. But first tell me something. How soon dost thou intend to bury thy son? For until then I will keep the peace and restrain my people from battle.” “O Achilles,” answered the old man, much moved, “if thou wilt grant us this favor, give us nine days to mourn the dead and prepare for his burial. On the tenth day we will burn him, on the eleventh erect the grave mound, and on the twelfth, if it must be, we will resume the war.” “Let this, too, be as thou desirest,” replied Achilles. “I will hold the army in check for as long as thou hast demanded.”