His visage, and his arms and brawny neck Purified, and his shaggy breast from smutch; Last, putting on his vest, he took in hand His sturdy staff, and shuffled through the door.515 Beside the King of fire two golden forms Majestic moved, that served him in the place Of handmaids; young they seem’d, and seem’d alive, Nor want they intellect, or speech, or force, Or prompt dexterity by the Gods inspired.520 These his supporters were, and at his side Attendant diligent, while he, with gait Uncouth, approaching Thetis where she sat On a bright throne, seized fast her hand and said, Why, Thetis! worthy as thou art of love525 And of all reverence, hast thou arrived, Unfrequent here? Speak—tell me thy desire, Nor doubt my services, if thou demand Things possible, and possible to me. Then Thetis, weeping plenteously, replied.530 Oh Vulcan! Is there on Olympius’ heights A Goddess with such load of sorrow press’d As, in peculiar, Jove assigns to me? Me only, of all ocean-nymphs, he made Spouse to a man, Peleus Æacides,535 Whose bed, although reluctant and perforce, I yet endured to share. He now, the prey Of cheerless age, decrepid lies, and Jove Still other woes heaps on my wretched head. He gave me to bring forth, gave me to rear540 A son illustrious, valiant, and the chief Of heroes; he, like a luxuriant plant Upran[9] to manhood, while his lusty growth I nourish’d as the husbandman his vine Set in a fruitful field, and being grown545 I sent him early in his gallant fleet Embark’d, to combat with the sons of Troy; But him from fight return’d I shall receive, Beneath the roof of Peleus, never more, And while he lives and on the sun his eyes550 Opens, affliction is his certain doom, Nor aid resides or remedy in me. The virgin, his own portion of the spoils, Allotted to him by the Grecians—her Atrides, King of men, resumed, and grief555 Devour’d Achilles’ spirit for her sake. Meantime, the Trojans shutting close within Their camp the Grecians, have forbidden them All egress, and the senators of Greece Have sought with splendid gifts to soothe my son.560 He, indisposed to rescue them himself From ruin, sent, instead, Patroclus forth, Clad in his own resplendent armor, Chief Of the whole host of Myrmidons. Before The Scæan gate from morn to eve they fought,565 And on that self-same day had Ilium fallen, But that Apollo, to advance the fame Of Hector, slew Menœtius’ noble son Full-flush’d with victory. Therefore at thy knees Suppliant I fall, imploring from thine art570 A shield and helmet, greaves of shapely form With clasps secured, and corselet for my son. For those, once his, his faithful friend hath lost, Slain by the Trojans, and Achilles lies, Himself, extended mournful on the ground.575 Her answer’d then the artist of the skies. Courage! Perplex not with these cares thy soul. I would that when his fatal hour shall come, I could as sure secrete him from the stroke Of destiny, as he shall soon have arms580 Illustrious, such as each particular man