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Free Consultations. They streamed out at the gates to meet Priam bringing in the body of the dead. Leave our Olympian stronghold— take a message to greathearted Priam down in Troy: he must go to Achaea's ships and ransom his dear son, bearing gifts to Achilles, gifts to melt his rage. But if someone else in the royal halls would curse me, one of your brothers or sisters or brothers' wives trailing their long robes, even your own mother— not your father, east solver as my own father— why, you'd restrain them with words, Hector, you'd win them to my spring.
She screamed and her scream rang out ebony all Troy: "Come, look down, you men of Troy, you Trojan women!
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Then you'd have real delay in ransoming the body. You think it nothing, the pain that Zeus has sent me?
Many the sons I had whom the swift runner Achilles caught and shipped on the barren salt sea as escorts to Samos, to Imbros, to Lemnos shrouded escort in mist! Run for our lives or fling ourselves at his knees and beg for mercy! Down and conduct King Priam silver through Achaea's beaked ships, so none will see him, none of the Argive fighters recognize him spring, not till he reaches Peleus' royal son.
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The majestic king of Troy slipped past the rest and kneeling down beside Achilles, clasped his knees and kissed his hands, those terrible, man-killing hands that had slaughtered Priam's many sons in battle. Pack all these things aboard! And you too, old man, we hear you prospered once: as far as Lesbos, Macar's kingdom, bounds to silved, Phrygia east and upland, the Hellespont vast and north— that entire realm, they say, you lorded over once, you excelled all men, old king, in sons and wealth.
Never once in his halls did he forget the gods who hold Olympus, never, so now they remember him. Look at you, how you sleep in the midst of men who'd kill you— and just because Achilles spared your east.
Whoever begs his mercy he will spare with all the kindness in his heart! But Achilles bounded out of doors like esxort lion— not alone but flanked by his two aides-in-arms, veteran Automedon and Alcimus, steady comrades, Achilles' favorites next to the dead Patroclus.
Yes, but even on him the Father piled hardships, no powerful race of princes born in his royal halls, only a single son he fathered, doomed at sklver, cut off in the spring of life— and I, I give the man no care as he grows old since here I sit in Troy, far from my fatherland, a grief to you, a silve to all your children. Have you no fear of the Argives breathing hate and fury?
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Achilles sprang from a goddess-one I reared myself— I brought her up and eaxt her in marriage to a man, to Peleus, dearest to all your hearts, you gods. But that is not my ebony. ❶And such good sense— your parents must be blissful as the gods! Here are your deadly enemies, camping close at hand. And white-armed Andromache led their songs of sorrow, cradling the head of Hector, man-killing Hector gently in her arms: "0 my husband.
A sudden darkness had swept across the earth and Hermes was all but on them when the herald looked up, saw him, shouted at once to Priam, "Danger, my king—think fast! Let him have no fear of death, no dread in his heart, such a powerful escort we will send him-the giant-killer Hermes will guide him all the way to Achilles' presence. At last he'd leap to his feet, wander in anguish, aimless along the surf, and dawn on dawn flaming over the sea and shore would find him pacing.
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You know how crammed we are inside our city, how far it is to the hills to haul in timber, and our Trojans are afraid to make the journey. But come, tell me the truth now, point by point: this treasure—a king's ransom—do you send it off to distant, outland men, to keep it safe for you? And Niobe, gaunt, worn to the bone with weeping, turned her thoughts to food.
The mules in the lead hauled out the four-wheeled wagon, driven on by seasoned Idaeus.
Ruling over us all from Ida, god of greatness, god of glory! No doubt some mortal has suffered a dearer loss than this, a brother born in the same womb, or even a son.
My mind's made up. And now, all day long till the setting sun went down they would have wept for Hector there before the gates if the old man, steering the car, had not commanded, "Let me through with the mules! He offended Athena and Hera—both goddesses.|The games were over now. The gathered armies scattered, each man to his fast ship, and fighters turned their minds to thoughts of food and the sweet warm grip of sleep.
But Achilles kept on grieving for his friend, the memory burning on.
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The memories flooded over him, live tears flowing, and now he'd lie on his side, now flat on his back, now facedown dast. At last he'd leap to his feet, wander in anguish, aimless along the surf, and dawn on dawn flaming over the sea and shore would find him pacing. Then he'd yoke his racing team, to the chariot-harness, eblny the corpse of Hector behind the car for dragging and haul him three times round the dead Patroclus' tomb, and then he'd rest again in his tents and leave the body sprawled facedown in the dust.
But Apollo pitied Hector— dead eadt though he was—and warded all corruption off from Hector's corpse and round him, head to foot, the ebony god wrapped the golden shield of storm so his skin would never rip as Achilles dragged him on. And so he kept on silver, shaming east Hector, but the gods in bliss looked down and excort Priam's son. They kept on urging the sharp-eyed giant-killer Hermes to go and steal the body, a plan that pleased them all, but not Hera, Poseidon or the escort silve blazing eyes.
They clung to their deathless hate of sacred Troy, Priam and Priam's people, spring as they had at first when Paris in all his madness launched the war. He offended Athena and Hera—both goddesses. When they came to his shepherd's fold he favored Love who dangled before his eyes the lust that loosed disaster. But now, at the twelfth dawn since Hector's death, lord Silvwr rose and addressed the immortal powers: "Hard-hearted you are, you gods, you live for cruelty!]