Note (return) — BOOK THE TWENTY-THIRD.

“Sleepest thou, O Achilles, and art thou forgetful of me? Thou didst not indeed neglect me when alive, but [now that I am] dead. Bury me, that I may as soon as possible pass the gates of Hades. The spirits, the images of the deceased, 726 drive me far away, nor by any means permit me to be mingled with them beyond the river; but thus I do wander round the ample-gated dwelling of Hades. But give me thy hand, 727 I beseech thee, for I shall not again return from Hades after thou hast made me a partaker of the fire. For by no means shall we, being alive, sitting apart from our dear companions, deliberate counsels; but the hateful fate which befel me when born, has snatched me away. And to thyself also, O godlike Achilles, thy fate is to perish beneath the wall of the noble Trojans. But another thing I bid, and will command, O Achilles, if thou wilt obey, not to lay my bones apart from thine; but as we were nurtured together in thy palaces, when Menœtius led me from Opus, a little boy, to thy home, on account of a melancholy homicide, on that day when, imprudent, I slew the son of Amphidamas, not wishing it, enraged about the dice: 728 then Peleus received me in his abode, carefully reared me, and named me thy attendant. So may the same tomb contain our bones, the golden vase which thy venerable mother gave thee.”