“Why weepest thou, my son?  Hide not the matter from me, but tell me.”

And Achilles answered, “All that Zeus promised thee for me he hath fulfilled.  But what profit have I, for my friend Patroclus is dead, and Hector has the arms which I gave him to wear.  And as for me, I care not to live, except I can avenge me upon him.”

Then said Thetis, “Nay, my son, speak not thus.  For when Hector dieth, thy doom also is near.”

And Achilles spake in great wrath:  “Would that I might die this hour, seeing that I could not help my friend, but am a burden on the earth,—­I, who am better in battle than all the Greeks besides.  Cursed be the wrath that sets men to strive the one with the other, even as it set me to strive with King Agamemnon!  But let the past be past.  And as for my fate—­let it come when it may, so that I first avenge myself on Hector.  Wherefore, seek not to keep me back from the battle.”

Then Thetis said, “Be it so; only thou canst not go without thy arms which Hector hath.  But to-morrow will I go to Vulcan, that he may furnish thee anew.”

But while they talked the men of Troy pressed the Greeks more and more, and the two heroes, Ajax the Greater and Ajax the Less, could no longer keep Hector back, but that he should lay hold of the body of Patroclus.  And indeed he would have taken it, but that Zeus sent Iris to Achilles, who said,—­

“Rouse thee, son of Peleus, or Patroclus will be a prey for the dogs of Troy.”

But Achilles said, “How shall I go?—­for arms have I none, nor know I whose I might wear.  Haply I could shift with the shield of Ajax, son of Telamon, but he, I know, is carrying it in the front of the battle.”

Then answered Iris, “Go only to the trench and show thyself; so shall the men of Troy tremble and cease from the battle, and the Greeks shall have breathing-space.”

So he went, and Athene put her aegis about his mighty shoulders, and a golden halo about his head, making it shine as a flame of fire, even as the watch-fires shine at night from some city that is beseiged.  Then went he to the trench; with the battle he mingled not, heeding his mother’s commands, but he shouted aloud, and his voice was as the sound of a trumpet.  And when the men of Troy heard, they were stricken with fear, and the horses backed with the chariots, and the drivers were astonished when they saw the flaming fire above his head which Athene had kindled.  Thrice across the trench the great Achilles shouted, and thrice the men of Troy fell back.  And that hour there perished twelve chiefs of fame, wounded by their own spears or trampled by their own steeds, so great was the terror among the men of Troy.

Right gladly did the Greeks take Patroclus out of the press.  Then they laid him on a bier, and carried him to the tent, Achilles walking with many tears by his side.

But on the other side the men of Troy held an assembly.  Standing they held it, for none dared to sit, lest Achilles should be upon them.