But when that goodly frame by ravening fire Was all consumed, they quenched the pyre with wine; They gathered up the bones, and reverently Laid in a golden casket. Hard beside Rhoeteium's headland heaped they up a mound Measureless-high. Then scattered they amidst The long ships, heavy-hearted for the man Whom they had honoured even as Achilles. Then black night, bearing unto all men sleep, Upfloated: so they brake bread, and lay down Waiting the Child of the Mist. Short was sleep, Broken by fitful staring through the dark, Haunted by dread lest in the night the foe Should fall on them, now Telamon's son was dead. BOOK VI How came for the helping of Troy Eurypylus, Hercules' grandson. Rose Dawn from Ocean and Tithonus' bed, And climbed the steeps of heaven, scattering round Flushed flakes of splendour; laughed all earth and air. Then turned unto their labours, each to each, Mortals, frail creatures daily dying. Then Streamed to a folkmote all the Achaean men At Menelaus' summons. When the host Were gathered all, then in their midst he spake: "Hearken my words, ye god-descended kings: Mine heart within my breast is burdened sore For men which perish, men that for my sake Came to the bitter war, whose home-return Parents and home shall welcome nevermore; For Fate hath cut off thousands in their prime. Oh that the heavy hand of death had fallen On me, ere hitherward I gathered these! But now hath God laid on me cureless pain In seeing all these ills. Who could rejoice Beholding strivings, struggles of despair? Come, let us, which be yet alive, in haste Flee in the ships, each to his several land, Since Aias and Achilles both are dead. I look not, now they are slain, that we the rest Shall 'scape destruction; nay, but we shall fall Before yon terrible Trojans for my sake And shameless Helen's! Think not that I care For her: for you I care, when I behold Good men in battle slain. Away with her-- Her and her paltry paramour! The Gods Stole all discretion out of her false heart When she forsook mine home and marriage-bed. Let Priam and the Trojans cherish her! But let us straight return: 'twere better far To flee from dolorous war than perish all."