So massy, should not easily unbar. 
  Thou, therefore, vex me not in my distress,
  Lest I abhor to see thee in my tent,
  And, borne beyond all limits, set at nought 715
  Thee, and thy prayer, and the command of Jove. 
    He said; the old King trembled, and obey’d. 
  Then sprang Pelides like a lion forth,
  Not sole, but with his two attendant friends
  Alcimus and Automedon the brave, 720
  For them (Patroclus slain) he honor’d most
  Of all the Myrmidons.  They from the yoke
  Released both steeds and mules, then introduced
  And placed the herald of the hoary King. 
  They lighten’d next the litter of its charge 725
  Inestimable, leaving yet behind
  Two mantles and a vest, that, not unveil’d,
  The body might be borne back into Troy. 
  Then, calling forth his women, them he bade
  Lave and anoint the body, but apart, 730
  Lest haply Priam, noticing his son,
  Through stress of grief should give resentment scope,
  And irritate by some affront himself
  To slay him, in despite of Jove’s commands.[14]
  They, therefore, laving and anointing first 735
  The body, cover’d it with cloak and vest;
  Then, Peleus’ son disposed it on the bier,
  Lifting it from the ground, and his two friends
  Together heaved it to the royal wain. 
  Achilles, last, groaning, his friend invoked. 740
    Patroclus! should the tidings reach thine ear,
  Although in Ades, that I have released
  The noble Hector at his father’s suit,
  Resent it not; no sordid gifts have paid
  His ransom-price, which thou shalt also share. 745
    So saying, Achilles to his tent return’d,
  And on the splendid couch whence he had risen
  Again reclined, opposite to the seat
  Of Priam, whom the hero thus bespake. 
    Priam! at thy request thy son is loosed, 750
  And lying on his bier; at dawn of day
  Thou shalt both see him and convey him hence
  Thyself to Troy.  But take we now repast;
  For even bright-hair’d Niobe her food
  Forgat not, though of children twelve bereft, 755
  Of daughters six, and of six blooming sons. 
  Apollo these struck from his silver bow,
  And those shaft-arm’d Diana, both incensed
  That oft Latona’s children and her own
  Numbering, she scorn’d the Goddess who had borne 760
  Two only, while herself had twelve to boast. 
  Vain boast! those two sufficed to slay them all. 
  Nine days they welter’d in their blood, no man
  Was found to bury them, for Jove had changed
  To stone the people; but themselves, at last, 765
  The Powers of heaven entomb’d them on the tenth. 
  Yet even she, once satisfied with tears,
  Remember’d food; and now the rocks