ut sharp pain smote
Peleus, for never before had he seen her come, since first she left her
bridal chamber and bed in anger, on account of noble Achilles, then a
babe. For she ever encompassed the child's mortal flesh in the night
with the flame of fire; and day by day she anointed with ambrosia his
tender frame, so that he might become immortal and that she might keep
off from his body loathsome old age. But Peleus leapt up from his bed
and saw his dear son gasping in the flame; and at the sight he uttered a
terrible cry, fool that he was; and she heard it, and catching up the
child threw him screaming to the ground, and herself like a breath of
wind passed swiftly from the hall as a dream and leapt into the sea,
exceeding wroth, and thereafter returned not again. Wherefore blank
amazement fettered his soul; nevertheless he declared to his comrades
all the bidding of Thetis. And they broke off in the midst and hurriedly
ceased their contests, and prepared their meal and earth-strewn beds,
whereon after supper they slept through the night as aforetime.

Now when dawn the light-bringer was touching the edge of heaven, then at
the coming of the swift west wind they went to their thwarts from the
land; and gladly did they draw up the anchors from the deep and made the
tackling ready in due order; and above spread the sail, stretching it
taut with the sheets from the yard-arm. And a fresh breeze wafted the
ship on. And soon they saw a fair island, Anthemoessa, where the
clear-voiced Sirens, daughters of Achelous, used to beguile with their
sweet songs whoever cast anchor there, and then destroy him. Them lovely
Terpsichore, one of the Muses, bare, united with Achelous; and once they
tended Demeter's noble daughter still unwed, and sang to her in chorus;
and at that time they were fashioned in part like birds and in part like
maidens to behold. And ever on the watch from their place of prospect
with its fair haven, often from many had they taken away their sweet
return, consuming them with wasting desire; and suddenly to the heroes,
too, they sent forth from their lips a lily-like voice. And they were
already about to cast from the ship the hawsers to the shore, had not
Thracian Orpheus, son of Oeagrus, stringing in his hands his Bistonian
lyre, rung forth the hasty snatch of a rippling melody so that their
ears might be filled with the sound of his twanging; and the lyre
overcame the maidens' voice. And the west wind and the