Achilles (Mythological character); Classical literature; Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Trojan War
guard over me taking it in turns to watch, and they kept a fire
always burning, both in the cloister of the outer court and in
the inner court at the doors of the room wherein I lay; but when
the darkness of the tenth night came, I broke through the closed
doors of my room, and climbed the wall of the outer court after
passing quickly and unperceived through the men on guard and the
women servants. I then fled through Hellas till I came to fertile
Phthia, mother of sheep, and to King Peleus, who made me welcome
and treated me as a father treats an only son who will be heir to
all his wealth. He made me rich and set me over much people,
establishing me on the borders of Phthia where I was chief ruler
over the Dolopians.
“It was I, Achilles, who had the making of you; I loved you with
all my heart: for you would eat neither at home nor when you had
gone out elsewhere, till I had first set you upon my knees, cut
up the dainty morsel that you were to eat, and held the wine-cup
to your lips. Many a time have you slobbered your wine in baby
helplessness over my shirt; I had infinite trouble with you, but
I knew that heaven had vouchsafed me no offspring of my own, and
I made a son of you, Achilles, that in my hour of need you might
protect me. Now, therefore, I say battle with your pride and beat
it; cherish not your anger for ever; the might and majesty of
heaven are more than ours, but even heaven may be appeased; and
if a man has sinned he prays the gods, and reconciles them to
himself by his piteous cries and by frankincense, with
drink-offerings and the savour of burnt sacrifice. For prayers
are as daughters to great Jove; halt, wrinkled, with eyes
askance, they follow in the footsteps of sin, who, being fierce
and fleet of foot, leaves them far behind him, and ever baneful
to mankind outstrips them even to the ends of the world; but
nevertheless the prayers come hobbling and healing after. If a
man has pity upon these daughters of Jove when they draw near
him, they will bless him and hear him too when he is praying; but
if he deny them and will not listen to them, they go to Jove the
son of Saturn and pray that he may presently fall into sin—to his
ruing bitterly hereafter. Therefore, Achilles, give these
daughters of Jove due reverence, and bow before them as all good
men will bow. Were not the son of Atreus offering you gifts and
promising others later—if he were still furious and implacable—I
am not he that would bid you throw off your anger and help the
Achaeans, no matter how great their need; but he is giving much
now, and more hereafter; he has sent his captains to urge his
suit, and has chosen those who of all the Argives are most
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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