Great mourners both, bid sorrow sleep awhile. 
  There is no profit of our sighs and tears;
  For thus, exempt from care themselves, the Gods
  Ordain man’s miserable race to mourn. 
  Fast by the threshold of Jove’s courts are placed 660
  Two casks, one stored with evil, one with good,
  From which the God dispenses as he wills. 
  For whom the glorious Thunderer mingles both,
  He leads a life checker’d with good and ill
  Alternate; but to whom he gives unmixt 665
  The bitter cup, he makes that man a curse,
  His name becomes a by-word of reproach,
  His strength is hunger-bitten, and he walks
  The blessed earth, unblest, go where he may. 
  So was my father Peleus at his birth 670
  Nobly endow’d with plenty and with wealth
  Distinguish’d by the Gods past all mankind,
  Lord of the Myrmidons, and, though a man,
  Yet match’d from heaven with an immortal bride. 
  But even him the Gods afflict, a son 675
  Refusing him, who might possess his throne
  Hereafter; for myself, his only heir,
  Pass as a dream, and while I live, instead
  Of solacing his age, here sit, before
  Your distant walls, the scourge of thee and thine. 680
  Thee also, ancient Priam, we have heard
  Reported, once possessor of such wealth
  As neither Lesbos, seat of Macar, owns,
  Nor eastern Phrygia, nor yet all the ports
  Of Hellespont, but thou didst pass them all 685
  In riches, and in number of thy sons. 
  But since the Powers of heaven brought on thy land
  This fatal war, battle and deeds of death
  Always surround the city where thou reign’st. 
  Cease, therefore, from unprofitable tears, 690
  Which, ere they raise thy son to life again
  Shall, doubtless, find fresh cause for which to flow. 
    To whom the ancient King godlike replied. 
  Hero, forbear.  No seat is here for me,
  While Hector lies unburied in your camp. 695
  Loose him, and loose him now, that with these eyes
  I may behold my son; accept a price
  Magnificent, which may’st thou long enjoy,
  And, since my life was precious in thy sight,
  May’st thou revisit safe thy native shore! 700
    To whom Achilles, lowering, and in wrath.[13]
  Urge me no longer, at a time like this,
  With that harsh note; I am already inclin’d
  To loose him.  Thetis, my own mother came
  Herself on that same errand, sent from Jove. 705
  Priam!  I understand thee well.  I know
  That, by some God conducted, thou hast reach’d
  Achaia’s fleet; for, without aid divine,
  No mortal even in his prime of youth,
  Had dared the attempt; guards vigilant as ours 710
  He should not easily elude, such gates,