"Let
these things belong to the dead past," said he. "My wrath is done. Let us
now stir the long-haired Greeks to war."
"Fate, not I, was the cause of our trouble," replied Agamemnon. "The
goddess of discord created the dissension, that Ate who troubled even the
gods on Olympus until expelled by Jupiter. But I will make amends with
liberal gifts."
Peace having been made between the chiefs, Achilles returned to his tent
without partaking of the banquet spread by Agamemnon, as he had vowed not
to break his fast until he had avenged his friend. Agamemnon's gifts were
carried to the tents of Achilles by the Myrmidons, and with them went
Briseis, who, when she saw the body of Patroclus, threw herself upon it
and wept long for the one whose kindness to her--whose lot had been sorrow
upon sorrow--she could never forget. All the women mourned, seemingly for
Patroclus, really for their own griefs. Achilles likewise wept, until,
strengthened by Pallas, he hastened to put his armor on and urge the
Greeks to battle.
As he mounted his chariot he spoke thus to his fleet steeds, Xanthus and
Balius: "Bring me back when the battle is over, I charge you, my noble
steeds. Leave me not on the field, as you left Patroclus."
Then Xanthus, with the long-flowing mane, endowed with power of speech by
Juno, thus spake: "This day, at least, we will bring thee home, Achilles;
but the hour of thy death is nigh, and, since the fates have decreed it,
we could not save thee, were we swift as the winged winds.
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