Note (return) — BOOK THE TWENTY-FIRST.

“O Achilles, embracing thy knees, I supplicate thee; but do thou respect and pity me. I am to thee in place of a suppliant, to be revered, O Jove-nurtured one! For with thee I first tasted the fruit of Ceres on that day when thou tookest me in the well-cultivated field, and didst sell 671 me, leading me away from my father and friends, to sacred Lemnos; and I brought thee the price of a hundred oxen. But now will I redeem myself, giving thrice as many. This is already the twelfth morning to me since I came to Troy, having suffered much, and now again pernicious fate has placed me in thy hands. Certainly I must be hated by father Jove, who has again given me to thee. For my mother Laothoë, the daughter of aged Altes, brought forth short-lived me, of Altes, who rules over the warlike Lelegans, possessing lofty Padasus, near the Satnio: and Priam possessed his daughter, as well as many others; but from her we two were born, but thou wilt slay both. Him, godlike Polydorus, thou hast subdued already among the foremost infantry, when thou smotest him with the sharp spear, and now will evil be to me here; for I do not think that I shall escape thy hands, since a deity has brought me near thee. Yet another thing will I tell thee, and do thou store it in thy mind. Do not slay me, for I am not of the same womb with Hector, who killed thy companion, both gentle and brave.” Thus then, indeed, the noble son of Priam addressed him, supplicating with words; but he heard a stern reply.