the hero's fears
Menoetius, then our guest, I promised him
His noble son at Opoeis again,
Living and laden with the spoils of Troy! 405
But Jove performs not all the thoughts of man,
For we were both destined to tinge the soil
Of Ilium with our blood, nor I shall see,
Myself, my father in his mansion more
Or Thetis, but must find my burial here. 410
Yet, my Patroclus! since the earth expects
Me next, I will not thy funereal rites
Finish, till I shall bring both head and arms
Of that bold Chief who slew thee, to my tent.
I also will smite off, before thy pile, 415
The heads of twelve illustrious sons of Troy,
Resentful of thy death. Meantime, among
My lofty galleys thou shalt lie, with tears
Mourn'd day and night by Trojan captives fair
And Dardan compassing thy bier around, 420
Whom we, at price of labor hard, ourselves
With massy spears toiling in battle took
From many an opulent city, now no more.
So saying, he bade his train surround with fire
A tripod huge, that they might quickly cleanse 425
Patroclus from all stain of clotted gore.
They on the blazing hearth a tripod placed
Capacious, fill'd with water its wide womb,
And thrust dry wood beneath, till, fierce, the flames
Embraced it round, and warm'd the flood within. 430
Soon as the water in the singing brass
Simmer'd, they bathed him, and with limpid oil
Anointed; filling, next, his ruddy wounds
With unguent mellow'd by nine circling years,
They stretch'd him on his bed, then cover'd him 435
From head to feet with linen texture light,
And with a wide unsullied mantle, last.[7]
All night the Myrmidons around the swift
Achilles stood, deploring loud his friend,
And Jove his spouse and sister thus bespake. 440
So then, Imperial Juno! not in vain
Thou hast the swift Achilles sought to rouse
Again to battle; the Achaians, sure,
Are thy own children, thou hast borne them all.
To whom the awful Goddess ample-eyed. 445
What word hath pass'd thy lips, Jove, most severe?
A man, though mortal merely, and to me
Inferior in device, might have achieved
That labor easily. Can I who boast
Myself the chief of Goddesses, and such 450
Not by birth only, but as thine espou