Achilles then bethought him of
another matter. He went a space away from the pyre, and cut off the
yellow lock which he had let grow for the river Spercheius. He looked
all sorrowfully out upon the dark sea, and said, "Spercheius, in vain
did my father Peleus vow to you that when I returned home to my loved
native land I should cut off this lock and offer you a holy hecatomb;
fifty she-goats was I to sacrifice to you there at your springs, where
is your grove and your altar fragrant with burnt-offerings. Thus did my
father vow, but you have not fulfilled his prayer; now, therefore, that
I shall see my home no more, I give this lock as a keepsake to the hero
Patroclus."

As he spoke he placed the lock in the hands of his dear comrade, and
all who stood by were filled with yearning and lamentation. The sun
would have gone down upon their mourning had not Achilles presently
said to Agamemnon, "Son of Atreus, for it is to you that the people
will give ear, there is a time to mourn and a time to cease from
mourning; bid the people now leave the pyre and set about getting their
dinners: we, to whom the dead is dearest, will see to what is wanted
here, and let the other princes also stay by me."

When King Agamemnon heard this he dismissed the people to their ships,
but those who were about the dead heaped up wood and built a pyre a
hundred feet this way and that; then they laid the dead all sorrowfully
upon the top of it. They flayed and dressed many fat sheep and oxen
before the pyre, and Achilles took fat from all of them and wrapped the
body therein from head to foot, heaping the flayed carcases all round
it. Against the bier he leaned two-handled jars of honey and unguents;
four proud horses did he then cast upon the pyre, groaning the while he
did so. The dead hero had had house-dogs; two of them did Achilles slay
and threw upon the pyre; he also put twelve brave sons of noble Trojans
to the sword and laid them with the rest, for he was full of bitterness
and fury. Then he committed all to the resistless and devouring might
of the fire; he groaned aloud and called on his dead comrade by name.
"Fare well," he cried, "Patroclus, even in the house of Hades; I am now
doing all that I have promised you. Twelve brave sons of noble Trojans
shall the flames consume along with yourself, but dogs, not fire, shall
devour the flesh of Hector son of Priam."

Thus did he vaunt, but the dogs came not about the body of Hector, for
Jo