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of Helen, nor yet though I should hear that my son is no more-­‐ he
who is being brought up in Scyros-­‐ if indeed Neoptolemus is still
living. Till now I made sure that I alone was to fall here at Troy
away from Argos, while you were to return to Phthia, bring back my
son with you in your own ship, and show him all my property, my bondsmen,
and the greatness of my house-­‐ for Peleus must surely be either dead,
or what little life remains to him is oppressed alike with the infirmities
of age and ever present fear lest he should hear the sad tidings of
my death."
He wept as he spoke, and the elders sighed in concert as each thought
on what he had left at home behind him. The son of Saturn looked down
with pity upon them, and said presently to Minerva, "My child, you
have quite deserted your hero; is he then gone so clean out of your
recollection? There he sits by the ships all desolate for the loss
of his dear comrade, and though the others are gone to their dinner
he will neither eat nor drink. Go then and drop nectar and ambrosia
into his breast, that he may know no hunger."
With these words he urged Minerva, who was already of the same mind.
She darted down from heaven into the air like some falcon sailing
on his broad wings and screaming. Meanwhile the Achaeans were arming
throughout the host, and when Minerva had dropped nectar and ambrosia
into Achilles so that no cruel hunger should cause his limbs to fail
him, she went back to the house of her mighty father. Thick as the
chill snow-­‐flakes shed from the hand of Jove and borne on the keen
blasts of the north wind, even so thick did the gleaming helmets,
the bossed shields, the strongly plated breastplates, and the ashen