They, when they reach’d the tent of Neleus’ son, Descended to the ground; Eurymedon The old man’s mares unharness’d from the car, While on the beach they fac’d the cooling breeze, Which from their garments dried the sweat; then turn’d, And in the tent on easy seats repos’d. For them the fair-hair’d Hecamede mix’d A cordial potion; her from Tenedos, When by Achilles ta’en, the old man brought; Daughter of great Arsinous, whom the Greeks On him, their sagest councillor, bestow’d. Before them first a table fair she spread, Well polish’d, and with feet of solid bronze; On this a brazen canister she plac’d, And onions, as a relish to the wine, And pale clear honey, and pure barley meal: By these a splendid goblet, which from home Th’ old man had brought, with golden studs adorn’d: Four were its handles, and round each two doves Appear’d to feed; at either end, a cup. Scarce might another move it from the board, When full; but aged Nestor rais’d with ease. In this, their goddess-like attendant first A gen’rous measure mix’d of Pramnian wine: Then with a brazen grater shredded o’er The goatsmilk cheese, and whitest barley meal, And of the draught compounded bade them drink. They drank, and then, reliev’d the parching thirst, With mutual converse entertain’d the hour. Before the gate divine Patroclus stood: The old man saw, and from his seat arose, And took him by the hand, and led him in, And bade him sit; but he, refusing, said: “No seat for me, thou venerable sire! I must not stay; for he both awe and fear Commands, who hither sent me to enquire What wounded man thou hast; I need not ask, I know Machaon well, his people’s guard. My errand done, I must my message bear Back to Achilles; and thou know’st thyself, Thou venerable sire, how stern his mood: Nay sometimes blames he, where no blame is due.”