“...  Lord of earth and air!  O king!  O father! hear my humble prayer!  Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore; Give me to see and Ajax asks no more; If Greece must perish we thy will obey, But let us perish in the face of day.”

Jupiter heard the prayer and dispersed the clouds.  Then Ajax sent Antilochus to Achilles with the intelligence of Patroclus’s death, and of the conflict raging for his remains.  The Greeks at last succeeded in bearing off the body to the ships, closely pursued by Hector and Aeneas and the rest of the Trojans.

Achilles heard the fate of his friend with such distress that Antilochus feared for a while that he would destroy himself.  His groans reached the ears of his mother, Thetis, far down in the deeps of ocean where she abode, and she hastened to him to inquire the cause.  She found him overwhelmed with self-reproach that he had indulged his resentment so far, and suffered his friend to fall a victim to it.  But his only consolation was the hope of revenge.  He would fly instantly in search of Hector.  But his mother reminded him that he was now without armor, and promised him, if he would but wait till the morrow, she would procure for him a suit of armor from Vulcan more than equal to that he had lost.  He consented, and Thetis immediately repaired to Vulcan’s palace.  She found him busy at his forge making tripods for his own use, so artfully constructed that they moved forward of their own accord when wanted, and retired again when dismissed.  On hearing the request of Thetis, Vulcan immediately laid aside his work and hastened to comply with her wishes.  He fabricated a splendid suit of armor for Achilles, first a shield adorned with elaborate devices, then a helmet crested with gold, then a corselet and greaves of impenetrable temper, all perfectly adapted to his form, and of consummate workmanship.  It was all done in one night, and Thetis, receiving it, descended with it to earth, and laid it down at Achilles’ feet at the dawn of day.

The first glow of pleasure that Achilles had felt since the death of Patroclus was at the sight of this splendid armor.  And now, arrayed in it, he went forth into the camp, calling all the chiefs to council.  When they were all assembled he addressed them.  Renouncing his displeasure against Agamemnon and bitterly lamenting the miseries that had resulted from it, he called on them to proceed at once to the field.  Agamemnon made a suitable reply, laying all the blame on Ate, the goddess of discord; and thereupon complete reconcilement took place between the heroes.