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Thy knees, Achilles! Ah, illustrious Chief! Reject not with disdain a suppliant’s prayer. 90 I am thy guest also, who at thy own board Have eaten bread, and did partake the gift Of Ceres with thee on the very day When thou didst send me in yon field surprised For sale to sacred Lemnos, far remote, 95 And for my price receiv’dst a hundred beeves. Loose me, and I will yield thee now that sum Thrice told. Alas! this morn is but the twelfth Since, after numerous hardships, I arrived Once more in Troy, and now my ruthless lot 100 Hath given me into thy hands again. Jove cannot less than hate me, who hath twice Made me thy prisoner, and my doom was death, Death in my prime, the day when I was born Son of Laothoee from Alta sprung, 105 From Alta, whom the Leleges obey On Satnio’s banks in lofty Pedasus. His daughter to his other numerous wives King Priam added, and two sons she bore Only to be deprived by thee of both. 110 My brother hath already died, in front Of Ilium’s infantry, by thy bright spear, The godlike Polydorus; and like doom Shall now be mine, for I despair to escape Thine hands, to which the Gods yield me again. 115 But hear and mark me well. My birth was not From the same womb as Hector’s, who hath slain Thy valiant friend for clemency renown’d.
Such supplication the illustrious son
Of Priam made, but answer harsh received. 120
Fool! speak’st of ransom? Name it not to me.
For till my friend his miserable fate Accomplish’d, I was somewhat given to spare, And numerous, whom I seized alive, I sold. But now, of all the Trojans whom the Gods 125 Deliver to me, none shall death escape, ’Specially of the house of Priam, none. Die therefore, even thou, my friend! What mean Thy tears unreasonably shed and vain? Died not Patroclus. braver far than thou? 130 And look on me—see’st not to what a height My stature towers, and what a bulk I boast? A King begat me, and a Goddess bore. What then! A death by violence awaits Me also, and at morn, or eve, or noon, 135 I perish, whensoe’er the destined spear Shall reach me, or the arrow from the nerve.
He ceased, and where the suppliant kneel’d, he died.
Quitting the spear, with both hands spread abroad He sat, but swift Achilles with his sword 140 ’Twixt neck and key-bone smote him, and his blade Of double edge sank all into the wound. He prone extended on the champain lay Bedewing with his sable blood the glebe, Till, by the foot, Achilles cast him far 145 Into the stream, and, as he floated down, Thus in wing’d accents, glorying, exclaim’d.
Lie there, and feed the fishes, which shall lick
Thy blood secure. Thy mother ne’er shall place Thee on thy bier, nor on thy body weep,
Thy knees, Achilles! Ah, illustrious Chief! Reject not with disdain a suppliant’s prayer. 90 I am thy guest also, who at thy own board Have eaten bread, and did partake the gift Of Ceres with thee on the very day When thou didst send me in yon field surprised For sale to sacred Lemnos, far remote, 95 And for my price receiv’dst a hundred beeves. Loose me, and I will yield thee now that sum Thrice told. Alas! this morn is but the twelfth Since, after numerous hardships, I arrived Once more in Troy, and now my ruthless lot 100 Hath given me into thy hands again. Jove cannot less than hate me, who hath twice Made me thy prisoner, and my doom was death, Death in my prime, the day when I was born Son of Laothoee from Alta sprung, 105 From Alta, whom the Leleges obey On Satnio’s banks in lofty Pedasus. His daughter to his other numerous wives King Priam added, and two sons she bore Only to be deprived by thee of both. 110 My brother hath already died, in front Of Ilium’s infantry, by thy bright spear, The godlike Polydorus; and like doom Shall now be mine, for I despair to escape Thine hands, to which the Gods yield me again. 115 But hear and mark me well. My birth was not From the same womb as Hector’s, who hath slain Thy valiant friend for clemency renown’d.
Such supplication the illustrious son
Of Priam made, but answer harsh received. 120
Fool! speak’st of ransom? Name it not to me.
For till my friend his miserable fate Accomplish’d, I was somewhat given to spare, And numerous, whom I seized alive, I sold. But now, of all the Trojans whom the Gods 125 Deliver to me, none shall death escape, ’Specially of the house of Priam, none. Die therefore, even thou, my friend! What mean Thy tears unreasonably shed and vain? Died not Patroclus. braver far than thou? 130 And look on me—see’st not to what a height My stature towers, and what a bulk I boast? A King begat me, and a Goddess bore. What then! A death by violence awaits Me also, and at morn, or eve, or noon, 135 I perish, whensoe’er the destined spear Shall reach me, or the arrow from the nerve.
He ceased, and where the suppliant kneel’d, he died.
Quitting the spear, with both hands spread abroad He sat, but swift Achilles with his sword 140 ’Twixt neck and key-bone smote him, and his blade Of double edge sank all into the wound. He prone extended on the champain lay Bedewing with his sable blood the glebe, Till, by the foot, Achilles cast him far 145 Into the stream, and, as he floated down, Thus in wing’d accents, glorying, exclaim’d.
Lie there, and feed the fishes, which shall lick
Thy blood secure. Thy mother ne’er shall place Thee on thy bier, nor on thy body weep,
