liad_, xviii. 203.

Of course there is no further question about the body of Patroclus. It
is drawn out of the press, and received by the awful hero with tears.

The other passage is where Priam, kneeling before Achilles, and
imploring him to give up the dead body of Hector, reminds him of his
own father; who, whatever (says the poor old king) may be his troubles
with his enemies, has the blessing of knowing that his son is still
alive, and may daily hope to see him return. Achilles, in accordance
with the strength and noble honesty of the passions in those times,
weeps aloud himself at this appeal, feeling, says Homer, 'desire' for
his father in his very 'limbs'. He joins in grief with the venerable
sufferer, and can no longer withstand the look of 'his grey head and
his grey _chin_'. Observe the exquisite introduction of this last
word. It paints the touching fact of the chin's being imploringly
thrown upward by the kneeling old man, and the very motion of his
beard as he speaks.

So saying, Mercury vanished up to heaven:
And Priam then alighted from his chariot,
Leaving Idaeus with it, who remain'd
Holding the mules and horses; and the old man
Went straight indoors, where the belov'd of Jove
Achilles sat, and found him. In the room
Were others, but apart; and two alone,
The hero Automedon, and Alcimus,
A branch of Mars, stood by him. They had been
At meals, and had not yet remov'd the board.
Great Priam came, without their seeing him,
And kneeling down, he clasp'd Achilles' knees,
And kiss'd those terrible, homicidal hands,
Which had deprived him of so many sons.
And as a man who is press'd heavily
For having slain another, flies away
To foreign lands, and comes into the house
Of some great man, and is beheld with wonder,
So did Achilles wonder to see Priam;
And the rest wonder'd, looking at each other.
But Priam, praying to him, spoke these words:--
'God-like Achilles, think of thine own father!
To the same age have we both come, the same
Weak pass; and though the neighbouring chiefs may vex
Him also, and his borders find no help,
Yet when he hears that thou art still alive,
He gladdens inwardly, and daily hopes
To see his dear son coming back from Troy.
But I, bereav'd old Priam! I had once
Brave sons in Troy, and now I cannot say
That one is left me. Fifty children had I,
Whe