Viewing the twain as they came, did the sight bring joy to Achilleus. Fearful were they meanwhile--and, in awe of the kingly Peleides, Halted in silence, nor spake to salute him, nor utter'd the message, But in his mind it was clearly discover'd; and thus he address'd them:-- "Hail to ye, heralds! of Zeus and of men the ambassadors holy! Freely advance; ye are blameless before me; alone Agamemnon Guilty, that sends ye to me for demand of the damsel Brisëis. Noble Patroclus, I pray thee bring forth and surrender the damsel Here to their guidance--but they--let the heralds themselves be my witness, Both before Gods ever-blest and the Earth's generation of mortals, Yea, and the insolent King.--If there ever arises hereafter Need of my presence to ward the disgrace of impending disaster Off from the rest--Yea, truly, the insolent raves to his ruin; Neither the past he recalls, nor has wisdom to judge for the future, Whence were salvation alone for his host in the war of the seaboard." So did he speak; and Patroclus, obeying the word of his comrade, From the pavilion within led forth Brisëis the rosy, Yielding her up to the twain; and they turn'd again back by the galleys. Not with her will did the woman attend on their path; but Achilleus Sat by himself, as the tears roll'd down, and apart from his comrades, Hard by the surf-white beach, overlooking the blackness of ocean. There then, lifting his hands, to his mother he urg'd his petition:-- "Since I was born of thee, mother, with fewness of days for my fore-doom, Surely Olympian Zeus, who is heard in the thunder of Æther, Owed me in honour to live; but to-day he decrees my abasement. Open contempt is my portion--for now wide-ruling Atreides Tramples upon me himself, and has seiz'd and possesses my guerdon." Thus amid tears did he speak, and the mother majestical heard him, Sitting afar in the deep by her father the Ancient of Ocean. Nimbly anon from the foam of the waves like a cloud she ascended, And she was near to him soon, and she sat by him where he lamented, Softly caress'd with her hand on his cheek, and address'd him and nam'd him:-- "Why art thou weeping, my child? what has burthen'd thy soul with affliction? Speak to me, nothing conceal, that we both may have knowledge in fulness." Heavily groaning, to her thus answer'd the rapid Achilleus:-- "Mother, already thou knowest, and why should it all be recounted? We in our progress assailing Aëtion's hallowèd city, Conquer'd and sack'd it, and hither conducted the plunder of Theba. Then when the sons of Achaia assembled to make the division, They to Atreides allotted for guerdon the comely Chrysëis. But to the galleys anon of the brass-clad sons of Achaia, Journey'd in sorrow her father, the grayhair'd priest of Apollo, Eager to ransom the maiden, and bearing a bountiful ransom.