Tell me please Dont harbor it deep inside you Zeus has accomplished everything

Tell me please dont harbor it deep inside you zeus

This preview shows page 82 - 83 out of 189 pages.

Tell me, please. Don't harbor it deep inside you. Zeus has accomplished everything you w a n t e d , just as you raised your hands and prayed that day. All the sons of A c h a e a are pinned against the ships 50 and all for w a n t of y o u — t h e y suffer shattering losses." And groaning deeply the matchless runner a n s w e r e d , "0 dear mother, true! All those burning desires Olympian Zeus has brought to pass for m e — but w h a t joy to me n o w ? My dear comrade's d e a d — 55 P a t r o c l u s — t h e man I loved beyond all other comrades, loved as my o w n life—I've lost h i m — H e c t o r ' s killed him, stripped the gigantic armor off his back, a marvel to b e h o l d — my burnished gear! Radiant gifts the gods presented Peleus that day they drove you into a mortal's marriage bed . . . 60 I w i s h you'd lingered deep w i t h the deathless sea-nymphs, lived at ease, and Peleus carried home a mortal bride. But now, as it is, s o r r o w s , unending s o r r o w s must surge within your heart as w e l l — f o r your o w n son's death. Never again will you e m b r a c e him striding home. 65 My spirits r e b e l — I ' v e lost the will to live, to take my stand in the w o r l d of m e n — u n l e s s , 4 A sea god, the "Old Man" of the sea and father of some fifty to 100 daughters, including Thetis, mother of Achilles. before all else, Hector's battered d o w n by my spear and gasps a w a y his life, the blood-price for Patroclus, M e n o e t i u s ' gallant son he's killed and stripped!" 70 But Thetis a n s w e r e d , w a r n i n g t h r o u g h her tears, "You're d o o m e d to a short life, my son, f r o m all you say! For hard on the heels of Hector's death your death must c o m e a t o n c e — " " T h e n let me die at o n c e " — Achilles burst out, d e s p a i r i n g — " s i n c e it w a s not my fate 75 to save my dearest c o m r a d e f r o m his death! Look, a w o r l d a w a y from his fatherland he's perished, lacking me, my fighting strength, to defend him. But now, since I shall not return to my fatherland . . . nor did I bring one ray of hope to my Patroclus, so nor to the rest of all my steadfast comrades, countless ranks struck d o w n by mighty H e c t o r — No, no, here I sit by the ships . . . a useless, dead w e i g h t on the good green e a r t h — I, no man my equal a m o n g the bronze-armed A c h a e a n s , 85 not in battle, only in w a r s of w o r d s that others win. If only strife could die from the lives of gods and men and anger that drives the sanest man to flare in o u t r a g e — bitter gall, s w e e t e r t h a n dripping streams of honey, that s w a r m s in people's chests and blinds like s m o k e — 90 just like the anger A g a m e m n o n 5 king of men has roused w i t h i n m e n o w . . .
Image of page 82
Image of page 83

You've reached the end of your free preview.

Want to read all 189 pages?

  • Left Quote Icon

    Student Picture

  • Left Quote Icon

    Student Picture

  • Left Quote Icon

    Student Picture