His sons were seated round their father in the outer courtyard, and their raiment was wet with tears: the old man sat in the midst of them with his mantle wrapped close about his body, and his head and neck all covered with the filth which he had clutched as he lay grovelling in the mire.

His daughters and his sons' wives went wailing about the house, as they thought of the many and brave men who lay dead, slain by the Argives.

The messenger of Jove stood by Priam and spoke softly to him, but fear fell upon him as she did so.

"Take heart," she said, "Priam offspring of Dardanus, take heart and fear not.

I bring no evil tidings, but am minded well towards you.