Disgrace incur, there prison’d for thy sake. To whom Achilles, groaning deep, replied. My mother! it is true; Olympian Jove That prayer fulfils; but thence, what joy to me,100 Patroclus slain? the friend of all my friends Whom most I loved, dear to me as my life— Him I have lost. Slain and despoil’d he lies By Hector of his glorious armor bright, The wonder of all eyes, a matchless gift105 Given by the Gods to Peleus on that day When thee they doom’d into a mortal’s arms. Oh that with these thy deathless ocean-nymphs Dwelling content, thou hadst my father left To espouse a mortal bride, so hadst thou ’scaped110 Pangs numberless which thou must now endure For thy son’s death, whom thou shalt never meet From Troy return’d, in Peleus’ mansion more! For life I covet not, nor longer wish To mix with human kind, unless my spear115 May find out Hector, and atonement take By slaying him, for my Patroclus slain. To whom, with streaming tears, Thetis replied. Swift comes thy destiny as thou hast said, For after Hector’s death thine next ensues.120 Then answer, thus, indignant he return’d. Death, seize me now! since when my friend was slain, My doom was, not to succor him. He died From home remote, and wanting me to save him. Now, therefore, since I neither visit more125 My native land, nor, present here, have aught Avail’d Patroclus or my many friends Whom noble Hector hath in battle slain, But here I sit unprofitable grown, Earth’s burden, though of such heroic note,130 If not in council foremost (for I yield That prize to others) yet in feats of arms, Such as none other in Achaia’s host, May fierce contention from among the Gods Perish, and from among the human race,135 With wrath, which sets the wisest hearts on fire; Sweeter than dropping honey to the taste, But in the bosom of mankind, a smoke![3] Such was my wrath which Agamemnon roused, The king of men. But since the past is fled140 Irrevocable, howsoe’er distress’d, Renounce we now vain musings on the past, Content through sad necessity. I go In quest of noble Hector, who hath slain My loved Patroclus, and such death will take145 As Jove ordains me and the Powers of Heaven At their own season, send it when they may. For neither might the force of Hercules, Although high-favored of Saturnian Jove, From death escape, but Fate and the revenge150 Restless of Juno vanquish’d even Him. I also, if a destiny like his Await me, shall, like him, find rest in death; But glory calls me now; now will I make Some Trojan wife or Dardan with both hands155 Wipe her soft cheeks, and utter many a groan. Long time have I been absent from the field, And they shall know it. Love me as thou may’st, Yet thwart me not, for I am fixt to go. Whom Thetis answer’d, Goddess of the Deep.160 Thou hast well said, my son! it is no blame To save from threaten’d death our suffering friends. But thy magnificent and dazzling arms Are now in Trojan hands; them Hector wears Exulting, but ordain’d not long to exult,165