Went to sleep in ease and plenty, cradled on his nurse's breast.
Now, Astyanax - the Trojans by that name the infant call;
Since 'twas thou, my Hector, only that didst keep the gates and
wall

Many a wrong shall feel and suffer, since his father is no more.
Now the creeping worm shall waste thee, lying naked on the shore,
Neither friend nor parent near thee - when the dogs have ta'en their

--

fill. Naked!- and thy graceful garments lie within thy palace still; These, the skillful work of women, all to ashes I will burn,

For thou never more shalt wear them, and thou never canst return; Yet the Trojans will revere them, relics of their chief so true!" Thus she spoke in tears, and round her all the women sorrowed too.

PRIAM RECLAIMS HECTOR'S BODY.

(From the "Iliad": translated by John Gibson Lockhart.)

[JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART, Scotch poet and man of letters, was born 1794, died 1854. He became the son-in-law of Sir Walter Scott. He joined the staff of Blackwood's in 1818, and was editor of the Quarterly Review, 1826-53.] ON did the old man pass; and he entered, and found the Peleides Seated apart from his train: two only of Myrmidons trustful, Hero Automedon only, and Alkimus, sapling of Ares,

Near to him minist'ring stood; he reposed him but now from the meal-time,

Sated with food and with wine, nor removed from him yet was the table.

All unobserved of them entered the old man stately, and forthwith Grasped with his fingers the knees and was kissing the hands of Achilles

Terrible, murderous hands, by which son upon son had been slaughtered.

As when a man who has fled from his home with the curse of the

blood-guilt,

Kneels in a far-off land, at the hearth of some opulent stranger, Begging to shelter his head, there is stupor on them that behold him;

So was Achilles dumb at the sight of majestical Priam-
He and his followers all, each gazing on other bewildered.
But he uplifted his voice in their silence, and made supplication:
"Think of thy father at home" (he began), "O godlike Achilles !
Him, my coeval, like me within age's calamitous threshold.
Haply this day there is trouble upon him, some insolent neighbors

Round him in arms, nor a champion at hand to avert the disaster:
Yet even so there is comfort for him, for he hears of thee living;
Day unto day there is hope for his heart amid worst tribulation,
That yet again he shall see his beloved from Troia returning.
Misery only is mine; for of all in the land of my fathers,
Bravest and best were the sons I begat, and not one is remaining.
Fifty were mine in the hour that the host of Achaia descended:
Nineteen granted to me out of one womb, royally mothered,

Stood by my side; but the rest were of handmaids born in my dwelling.

Soon were the limbs of the many unstrung in the fury of Ares:
But one peerless was left, sole prop of the realm and the people;
And now at last he too, the protector of Ilion, Hector,

Dies by thy hand. For his sake have I come to the ships of Achaia,
Eager to ransom the body with bountiful gifts of redemption.
Thou have respect for the gods, and on me, O Peleides! have pity,
Calling thy father to mind; but more piteous is my desolation,
Mine, who alone of mankind have been humbled to this of endurance-
Pressing my mouth to the hand that is red with the blood of my
children."

Hereon Achilles, awaked to a yearning remembrance of Peleus, Rose up, took by the hand, and removed from him gently the old

man.

Sadness possessing the twain-one, mindful of valorous Hector,
Wept with o'erflowing tears, low laid at the feet of Achilles;
He, sometime for his father, anon at the thought of Patroclus,
Wept, and aloft in the dwelling their long lamentation ascended.
But when the bursting of grief had contented the godlike Peleides,
And from his heart and his limbs irresistible yearning departed,
Then from his seat rose he, and with tenderness lifted the old man,
Viewing the hoary head and the hoary beard with compassion;
And he addressed him, and these were the air-winged words that he
uttered:

"Ah unhappy! thy spirit in truth has been burdened with evils.

How could the daring be thine to come forth to the ships of Achaia Singly, to stand in the eyes of the man by whose weapon thy children,

Many and gallant, have died? full surely thy heart is of iron.
But now seat thee in peace, old man, and let mourning entirely
Pause for a space in our minds, although heavy on both be affliction;
For without profit and vain is the fullness of sad lamentation,
Since it was destined so of the gods for unfortunate mortals
Ever in trouble to live, but they only partake not of sorrow;
For by the threshold of Zeus two urns have their station of old time,
Whereof the one holds dolings of good, but the other of evil;

And to whom mixt are the doles of the thunder-delighting Kronion,
He sometime is of blessing partaker, of misery sometime;

But if he gives him the ill, he has fixed him the mark of disaster,
And over bountiful earth the devouring Necessity drives him,
Wandering ever forlorn, unregarded of gods and of mortals.
Thus of a truth did the gods grant glorious gifts unto Peleus,
Even from the hour of his birth, for above compare was he favored,
Whether in wealth or in power, in the land of the Myrmidons reign-
ing;

And albeit a mortal, his spouse was a goddess appointed.

Yet even to him, of the god there was evil apportioned, — that

never

Lineage of sons should be born in his home, to inherit dominion.
One son alone he begat, to untimely calamity foredoomed;
Nor do I cherish his age, since afar from the land of my fathers
Here in the Troas I sit, to the torment of thee and thy children.
And we have heard, old man, of thine ancient prosperity also,
Lord of whatever is held between Lesbos the seat of the Macar,
Up to the Phrygian bound and the measureless Hellespontos;
Ruling and blest above all, nor in wealth nor in progeny equaled:
Yet from the hour that the gods brought this visitation upon
thee,

Day unto day is thy city surrounded with battles and bloodshed. Howso, bear what is sent, nor be grieved in thy soul without ceasing.

Nothing avails it, O king! to lament for the son that has fallen; Him thou canst raise up no more, but thyself may have new tribulation."

So having said, he was answered by Priam the aged and godlike:

"Seat not me on the chair, O beloved of Olympus! while Hector Lies in the tent uninterred; but I pray thee deliver him swiftly, That I may see with mine eyes; and, accepting the gifts of redemption,

Therein have joy to thy heart; and return thou homeward in safety,
Since of thy mercy I live and shall look on the light of the morning."
Darkly regarding the king, thus answered the rapid Achilles :-
"Stir me to anger no more, old man of myself I am minded
To the release of the dead; for a messenger came from Kronion
Hither, the mother that bore me, the child of the Ancient of
Ocean.

Thee, too, I know in my mind, nor has aught of thy passage escaped

me;

How that some god was the guide of thy steps to the ships of Achaia.

For never mortal had dared to advance, were he blooming in manhood,

Here to the host by himself; nor could sentinels all be avoided;
Nor by an imbecile push might the bar be dislodged at my bulwark.
Therefore excite me no more, old man, when my soul is in sorrow,
Lest to thyself peradventure forbearance continue not alway,
Suppliant all that thou art- but I break the behest of the godhead."
So did he speak; but the old man feared, and obeyed his com-
mandment.

Forth of the door of his dwelling then leapt like a lion Peleides; But not alone: of his household were twain that attended his going,

Hero Automedon first, and young Alkimus, he that was honored Chief of the comrades around since the death of beloved Patroclus. These from the yoke straightway unharnessed the mules and the horses,

And they conducted within the coeval attendant of Priam,
Bidding him sit in the tent; then swiftly their hands from the mule-
wain,

Raise the uncountable wealth of the king's Hectorean head-gifts.
But two mantles they leave, and a tunic of beautiful texture,
Seemly for wrapping the dead as the ransomer carries him home-
ward.

Then were the handmaidens called, and commanded to wash and anoint him,

Privately lifted aside, lest the son should be seen of the father,
Lest in the grief of his soul he restrain not his anger within him,
Seeing the corse of his son, but enkindle the heart of Achilles,
And he smite him to death, and transgress the command of Kronion.
But when the dead had been washed and anointed with oil by the
maidens,

And in the tunic arrayed and enwrapt in the beautiful mantle,
Then by Peleides himself was he raised and composed on the hand-

bier;

Which when the comrades had lifted and borne to its place in the mule-wain,

Then groaned he; and he called on the name of his friend, the beloved: :

"Be not wroth with me now, O Patroclus, if haply thou hearest, Though within Hades obscure, that I yield the illustrious Hector Back to his father dear. Not unworthy the gifts of redemption; And unto thee will I render thereof whatsoever is seemly."

THE SIRENS, SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS.

(From the "Odyssey"; translated by Philip S. Worsley.)

BUT when the Ocean river in our wake

Streamed afar off, borne through the wide-wayed deep Straight from Eæa's isle our course we take,

To where the young-eyed Morning loves to keep Her pastime, and the Sun wakes up from sleep. Thither arrived on the smooth shores we run

The keel, and to the land our sailors leap, And all night slumbering on the sands, each one Waits for the Dawn divine and the returning Sun.

But when the rosy-fingered Dawn was come,
Child of the mist, my comrades forth I sent
To fetch the dead Elpenor from the home

Of Circe. Then to the utmost we went,
And cut wood, and with tears and sad lament
Paid the funeral rites. So when with all

His arms the dead was burned, a monument

Of earth, and gravestone to record his fall

We reared, and in the midst, the shapely oar sprang tall.

We then, reminded of our labors past,

Talked over all that we had seen and known; And Circe knew that through the billows vast From Hades' realms we had returned, and soon In shining raiment to the shore came down, While in her train paced many a maiden fair,

Who corn and flesh, and sparkling wine, the crown Of banquets, in white hands uplifted bare.

Then, standing in the midst, spake the divine one there:

"Ah! desperate, who have trod with living feet
The house of Hades and the sunless way,
Twice dead, while others die but once! Haste, eat
Both corn and flesh in plenty while ye may,
And, sitting here, drink wine the livelong day!

Hence in the morning shall ye sail, and I

Will point your path, nor any more delay
To warn you, and each danger signify,
Lest or by land or wave you find adversity."