Achilles (Mythological character); Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Trojan War
So he spake and besought him, in his unwittingness, for truly it was to
be his own evil death and fate that he prayed for. Then to him in great
heaviness spake swift-footed Achilles: “Ah me, Patroklos of the seed of
Zeus, what word hast thou spoken? Neither take I heed of any oracle
that I wot of, nor yet has my lady mother told me somewhat from Zeus,
but this dread sorrow comes upon my heart and spirit, from the hour
that a man wishes to rob me who am his equal, and to take away my
prize, for that he excels me in power. A dread sorrow to me is this,
after all the toils that my heart hath endured. The maiden that the
sons of the Achaians chose out for me as my prize, and that I won with
my spear when I sacked a well-walled city, her has mighty Agamemnon the
son of Atreus taken back out of my hands, as though I were but some
sojourner dishonourable. But we will let bygones be bygones. No man may
be angry of heart for ever, yet verily I said that I would not cease
from my wrath, until that time when to mine own ships should come the
war-cry and the battle. But do thou on thy shoulders my famous harness,
and lead the war-loving Myrmidons to the fight, to ward off destruction
from the ships, lest they even burn the ships with blazing fire, and
take away our desired return. But when thou hast driven them from the
ships, return, and even if the loud-thundering lord of Hera grant thee
to win glory, yet long not thou apart from me to fight with the
war-loving Trojans; thereby wilt thou minish mine honour. Neither do
thou, exulting in war and strife, and slaying the Trojans, lead on
toward Ilios, lest one of the eternal gods from Olympus come against
thee; right dearly doth Apollo the Far-darter love them. Nay, return
back when thou halt brought safety to the ships, and suffer the rest to
fight along the plain. For would, O father Zeus, and Athene, and
Apollo, would that not one of all the Trojans might escape death, nor
one of the Argives, but that we twain might avoid destruction, that
alone we might undo the sacred coronal of Troy.”
So spake they each to other, but Aias no longer abode the onset, for he
was overpowered by darts; the counsel of Zeus was subduing him, and the
shafts of the proud Trojans; and his bright helmet, being smitten, kept
ringing terribly about his temples: for always it was smitten upon the
fair-wrought cheek-pieces. Moreover his left shoulder was wearied, as
steadfastly he held up his glittering shield, nor yet could they make
him give ground, as they pressed on with their darts around him. And
ever he was worn out with difficult breath, and much sweat kept running
from all his limbs, nor had he a moment to draw breath, so on all sides
was evil heaped on evil.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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