ἸΛΙΆΣ 22

Ὣς οἱ μὲν κατὰ ἄστυ πεφυζότες ἠΰτε νεβροὶ
ἱδρῶ ἀπεψύχοντο πίον τ’ ἀκέοντό τε δίψαν,
κεκλιμένοι καλῇσιν ἐπάλξεσιν· αὐτὰρ Ἀχαιοὶ
τείχεος ἆσσον ἴσαν, σάκε’ ὤμοισι κλίναντες.
Ἕκτορα δ’ αὐτοῦ μεῖναι ὀλοιὴ μοῖρα πέδησεν
Ἰλίου προπάροιθε πυλάων τε Σκαιάων.
αὐτὰρ Πηλείωνα προσηύδα Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων·
«τίπτε με, Πηλέος υἱέ, ποσὶν ταχέεσσι διώκεις,
αὐτὸς θνητὸς ἐὼν θεὸν ἄμβροτον; οὐδέ νύ πώ με
ἔγνως ὡς θεός εἰμι, σὺ δ’ ἀσπερχὲς μενεαίνεις.
ἦ νύ τοι οὔ τι μέλει Τρώων πόνος, οὓς ἐφόβησας,
οἳ δή τοι εἰς ἄστυ ἄλεν, σὺ δὲ δεῦρο λιάσθης.
οὐ μέν με κτενέεις, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι μόρσιμός εἰμι.»
Τὸν δὲ μέγ’ ὀχθήσας προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς·
«ἔβλαψάς μ’, ἑκάεργε, θεῶν ὀλοώτατε πάντων,
ἐνθάδε νῦν τρέψας ἀπὸ τείχεος· ἦ κ’ ἔτι πολλοὶ
γαῖαν ὀδὰξ εἷλον πρὶν Ἴλιον εἰσαφικέσθαι.
νῦν δ’ ἐμὲ μὲν μέγα κῦδος ἀφείλεο, τοὺς δὲ σάωσας
ῥηϊδίως, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι τίσιν γ’ ἔδεισας ὀπίσσω.
ἦ σ’ ἂν τισαίμην, εἴ μοι δύναμίς γε παρείη.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν προτὶ ἄστυ μέγα φρονέων ἐβεβήκει,

σευάμενος ὥς θ’ ἵππος ἀεθλοφόρος σὺν ὄχεσφιν,
ὅς ῥά τε ῥεῖα θέῃσι τιταινόμενος πεδίοιο·
ὣς Ἀχιλεὺς λαιψηρὰ πόδας καὶ γούνατ’ ἐνώμα.
Τὸν δ’ ὃ γέρων Πρίαμος πρῶτος ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσι,
παμφαίνονθ’ ὥς τ’ ἀστέρ’ ἐπεσσύμενον πεδίοιο,
ὅς ῥά τ’ ὀπώρης εἶσιν, ἀρίζηλοι δέ οἱ αὐγαὶ
φαίνονται πολλοῖσι μετ’ ἀστράσι νυκτὸς ἀμολγῷ·
ὅν τε κύν’ Ὠρίωνος ἐπίκλησιν καλέουσι.
λαμπρότατος μὲν ὅ γ’ ἐστί, κακὸν δέ τε σῆμα τέτυκται,
καί τε φέρει πολλὸν πυρετὸν δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσιν·
ὣς τοῦ χαλκὸς ἔλαμπε περὶ στήθεσσι θέοντος.
ᾤμωξεν δ’ ὁ γέρων, κεφαλὴν δ’ ὅ γε κόψατο χερσὶν
ὑψόσ’ ἀνασχόμενος, μέγα δ’ οἰμώξας ἐγεγώνει
λισσόμενος φίλον υἱόν· ὁ δὲ προπάροιθε πυλάων
ἑστήκει, ἄμοτον μεμαὼς Ἀχιλῆϊ μάχεσθαι·
τὸν δ’ ὁ γέρων ἐλεεινὰ προσηύδα χεῖρας ὀρεγνύς·
«Ἕκτορ, μή μοι μίμνε, φίλον τέκος, ἀνέρα τοῦτον
οἶος ἄνευθ’ ἄλλων, ἵνα μὴ τάχα πότμον ἐπίσπῃς
Πηλεΐωνι δαμείς, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτερός ἐστι,
σχέτλιος· αἴθε θεοῖσι φίλος τοσσόνδε γένοιτο
ὅσσον ἐμοί· τάχα κέν ἑ κύνες καὶ γῦπες ἔδοιεν
κείμενον· ἦ κέ μοι αἰνὸν ἀπὸ πραπίδων ἄχος ἔλθοι·
ὅς μ’ υἱῶν πολλῶν τε καὶ ἐσθλῶν εὖνιν ἔθηκε,
κτείνων καὶ περνὰς νήσων ἔπι τηλεδαπάων.
καὶ γὰρ νῦν δύο παῖδε, Λυκάονα καὶ Πολύδωρον,
οὐ δύναμαι ἰδέειν Τρώων εἰς ἄστυ ἀλέντων,
τούς μοι Λαοθόη τέκετο κρείουσα γυναικῶν.
ἀλλ’ εἰ μὲν ζώουσι μετὰ στρατῷ, ἦ τ’ ἂν ἔπειτα
χαλκοῦ τε χρυσοῦ τ’ ἀπολυσόμεθ’, ἔστι γὰρ ἔνδον·
πολλὰ γὰρ ὤπασε παιδὶ γέρων ὀνομάκλυτος Ἄλτης.

εἰ δ’ ἤδη τεθνᾶσι καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισιν,
ἄλγος ἐμῷ θυμῷ καὶ μητέρι τοὶ τεκόμεσθα·
λαοῖσιν δ’ ἄλλοισι μινυνθαδιώτερον ἄλγος
ἔσσεται, ἢν μὴ καὶ σὺ θάνῃς Ἀχιλῆϊ δαμασθείς.
ἀλλ’ εἰσέρχεο τεῖχος ἐμὸν τέκος, ὄφρα σαώσῃς
Τρῶας καὶ Τρῳάς, μὴ δὲ μέγα κῦδος ὀρέξῃς
Πηλεΐδῃ, αὐτὸς δὲ φίλης αἰῶνος ἀμερθῇς.
πρὸς δ’ ἐμὲ τὸν δύστηνον ἔτι φρονέοντ’ ἐλέησον,
δύσμορον, ὅν ῥα πατὴρ Κρονίδης ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ
αἴσῃ ἐν ἀργαλέῃ φθίσει, κακὰ πόλλ’ ἐπιδόντα,
υἷάς τ’ ὀλλυμένους ἑλκηθείσας τε θύγατρας,
καὶ θαλάμους κεραϊζομένους, καὶ νήπια τέκνα
βαλλόμενα προτὶ γαίῃ ἐν αἰνῇ δηϊοτῆτι,
ἑλκομένας τε νυοὺς ὀλοῇς ὑπὸ χερσὶν Ἀχαιῶν.
αὐτὸν δ’ ἂν πύματόν με κύνες πρώτῃσι θύρῃσιν
ὠμησταὶ ἐρύουσιν, ἐπεί κέ τις ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ
τύψας ἠὲ βαλὼν ῥεθέων ἐκ θυμὸν ἕληται,
οὓς τρέφον ἐν μεγάροισι τραπεζῆας θυραωρούς,
οἵ κ’ ἐμὸν αἷμα πιόντες ἀλύσσοντες περὶ θυμῷ
κείσοντ’ ἐν προθύροισι. νέῳ δέ τε πάντ’ ἐπέοικεν
ἄρηϊ κταμένῳ δεδαϊγμένῳ ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
κεῖσθαι· πάντα δὲ καλὰ θανόντι περ ὅττι φανήῃ·
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ πολιόν τε κάρη πολιόν τε γένειον
αἰδῶ τ’ αἰσχύνωσι κύνες κταμένοιο γέροντος,
τοῦτο δὴ οἴκτιστον πέλεται δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσιν.»
Ἦ ῥ’ ὃ γέρων, πολιὰς δ’ ἄρ’ ἀνὰ τρίχας ἕλκετο χερσὶ
τίλλων ἐκ κεφαλῆς· οὐδ’ Ἕκτορι θυμὸν ἔπειθε.
μήτηρ δ’ αὖθ’ ἑτέρωθεν ὀδύρετο δάκρυ χέουσα,
κόλπον ἀνιεμένη, ἑτέρηφι δὲ μαζὸν ἀνέσχε·
καί μιν δάκρυ χέουσ’ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

«Ἕκτορ, τέκνον ἐμόν, τάδε τ’ αἴδεο καί μ’ ἐλέησον
αὐτήν, εἴ ποτέ τοι λαθικηδέα μαζὸν ἐπέσχον·
τῶν μνῆσαι φίλε τέκνον ἄμυνε δὲ δήϊον ἄνδρα
τείχεος ἐντὸς ἐών, μὴ δὲ πρόμος ἵστασο τούτῳ,
σχέτλιος· εἴ περ γάρ σε κατακτάνῃ, οὔ σ’ ἔτ’ ἔγωγε
κλαύσομαι ἐν λεχέεσσι, φίλον θάλος, ὃν τέκον αὐτή,
οὐδ’ ἄλοχος πολύδωρος· ἄνευθε δέ σε μέγα νῶϊν
Ἀργείων παρὰ νηυσὶ κύνες ταχέες κατέδονται.»
Ὣς τώ γε κλαίοντε προσαυδήτην φίλον υἱόν,
πολλὰ λισσομένω· οὐδ’ Ἕκτορι θυμὸν ἔπειθον,
ἀλλ’ ὅ γε μίμν’ Ἀχιλῆα πελώριον ἆσσον ἰόντα.
ὡς δὲ δράκων ἐπὶ χειῇ ὀρέστερος ἄνδρα μένῃσι,
βεβρωκὼς κακὰ φάρμακ’, ἔδυ δέ τέ μιν χόλος αἰνός,
σμερδαλέον δὲ δέδορκεν ἑλισσόμενος περὶ χειῇ·
ὣς Ἕκτωρ ἄσβεστον ἔχων μένος οὐχ ὑπεχώρει,
πύργῳ ἔπι προὔχοντι φαεινὴν ἀσπίδ’ ἐρείσας·
ὀχθήσας δ’ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·
«ὤ μοι ἐγών, εἰ μέν κε πύλας καὶ τείχεα δύω,
Πουλυδάμας μοι πρῶτος ἐλεγχείην ἀναθήσει,
ὅς μ’ ἐκέλευε Τρωσὶ ποτὶ πτόλιν ἡγήσασθαι
νύχθ’ ὕπο τήνδ’ ὀλοὴν ὅτε τ’ ὤρετο δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς.
ἀλλ’ ἐγὼ οὐ πιθόμην· ἦ τ’ ἂν πολὺ κέρδιον ἦεν.
νῦν δ’ ἐπεὶ ὤλεσα λαὸν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ἐμῇσιν,
αἰδέομαι Τρῶας καὶ Τρῳάδας ἑλκεσιπέπλους,
μή ποτέ τις εἴπῃσι κακώτερος ἄλλος ἐμεῖο·
“Ἕκτωρ ἧφι βίηφι πιθήσας ὤλεσε λαόν.”
ὣς ἐρέουσιν· ἐμοὶ δὲ τότ’ ἂν πολὺ κέρδιον εἴη
ἄντην ἢ Ἀχιλῆα κατακτείναντα νέεσθαι,
ἠέ κεν αὐτῷ ὀλέσθαι ἐϋκλειῶς πρὸ πόληος.

εἰ δέ κεν ἀσπίδα μὲν καταθείομαι ὀμφαλόεσσαν
καὶ κόρυθα βριαρήν, δόρυ δὲ πρὸς τεῖχος ἐρείσας
αὐτὸς ἰὼν Ἀχιλῆος ἀμύμονος ἀντίος ἔλθω
καί οἱ ὑπόσχωμαι Ἑλένην καὶ κτήμαθ’ ἅμ’ αὐτῇ,
πάντα μάλ’ ὅσσά τ’ Ἀλέξανδρος κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσὶν
ἠγάγετο Τροίηνδ’, ἥ τ’ ἔπλετο νείκεος ἀρχή,
δωσέμεν Ἀτρεΐδῃσιν ἄγειν, ἅμα δ’ ἀμφὶς Ἀχαιοῖς
ἄλλ’ ἀποδάσσεσθαι ὅσα τε πτόλις ἧδε κέκευθε·
Τρωσὶν δ’ αὖ μετόπισθε γερούσιον ὅρκον ἕλωμαι
μή τι κατακρύψειν, ἀλλ’ ἄνδιχα πάντα δάσασθαι
κτῆσιν ὅσην πτολίεθρον ἐπήρατον ἐντὸς ἐέργει·
ἀλλὰ τίη μοι ταῦτα φίλος διελέξατο θυμός;
μή μιν ἐγὼ μὲν ἵκωμαι ἰών, ὃ δέ μ’ οὐκ ἐλεήσει
οὐδέ τί μ’ αἰδέσεται, κτενέει δέ με γυμνὸν ἐόντα
αὔτως ὥς τε γυναῖκα, ἐπεί κ’ ἀπὸ τεύχεα δύω.
οὐ μέν πως νῦν ἔστιν ἀπὸ δρυὸς οὐδ’ ἀπὸ πέτρης
τῷ ὀαριζέμεναι, ἅ τε παρθένος ἠΐθεός τε,
παρθένος ἠΐθεός τ’ ὀαρίζετον ἀλλήλοιιν.
βέλτερον αὖτ’ ἔριδι ξυνελαυνέμεν ὅττι τάχιστα·
εἴδομεν ὁπποτέρῳ κεν Ὀλύμπιος εὖχος ὀρέξῃ.»
Ὣς ὅρμαινε μένων, ὃ δέ οἱ σχεδὸν ἦλθεν Ἀχιλλεὺς
ἶσος Ἐνυαλίῳ, κορυθάϊκι πτολεμιστῇ,
σείων Πηλιάδα μελίην κατὰ δεξιὸν ὦμον
δεινήν· ἀμφὶ δὲ χαλκὸς ἐλάμπετο εἴκελος αὐγῇ
ἢ πυρὸς αἰθομένου ἢ ἠελίου ἀνιόντος.
Ἕκτορα δ’, ὡς ἐνόησεν, ἕλε τρόμος· οὐδ’ ἄρ’ ἔτ’ ἔτλη
αὖθι μένειν, ὀπίσω δὲ πύλας λίπε, βῆ δὲ φοβηθείς·
Πηλεΐδης δ’ ἐπόρουσε ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι πεποιθώς.
ἠΰτε κίρκος ὄρεσφιν ἐλαφρότατος πετεηνῶν,
ῥηϊδίως οἴμησε μετὰ τρήρωνα πέλειαν,

ἡ δέ θ’ ὕπαιθα φοβεῖται, ὁ δ’ ἐγγύθεν ὀξὺ λεληκὼς
ταρφέ’ ἐπαΐσσει, ἑλέειν τέ ἑ θυμὸς ἀνώγει·
ὣς ἄρ’ ὅ γ’ ἐμμεμαὼς ἰθὺς πέτετο, τρέσε δ’ Ἕκτωρ
τεῖχος ὕπο Τρώων, λαιψηρὰ δὲ γούνατ’ ἐνώμα.
οἱ δὲ παρὰ σκοπιὴν καὶ ἐρινεὸν ἠνεμόεντα
τείχεος αἰὲν ὑπ’ ἐκ κατ’ ἀμαξιτὸν ἐσσεύοντο,
κρουνὼ δ’ ἵκανον καλλιρρόω· ἔνθα δὲ πηγαὶ
δοιαὶ ἀναΐσσουσι Σκαμάνδρου δινήεντος.
ἡ μὲν γάρ θ’ ὕδατι λιαρῷ ῥέει, ἀμφὶ δὲ καπνὸς
γίγνεται ἐξ αὐτῆς ὡς εἰ πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο·
ἡ δ’ ἑτέρη θέρεϊ προρέει ἐϊκυῖα χαλάζῃ,
ἢ χιόνι ψυχρῇ, ἢ ἐξ ὕδατος κρυστάλλῳ.
ἔνθα δ’ ἐπ’ αὐτάων πλυνοὶ εὐρέες ἐγγὺς ἔασι
καλοὶ λαΐνεοι, ὅθι εἵματα σιγαλόεντα
πλύνεσκον Τρώων ἄλοχοι καλαί τε θύγατρες
τὸ πρὶν ἐπ’ εἰρήνης, πρὶν ἐλθεῖν υἷας Ἀχαιῶν.
τῇ ῥα παραδραμέτην, φεύγων, ὁ δ’ ὄπισθε διώκων·
πρόσθε μὲν ἐσθλὸς ἔφευγε, δίωκε δέ μιν μέγ’ ἀμείνων
καρπαλίμως, ἐπεὶ οὐχ ἱερήϊον οὐδὲ βοείην
ἀρνύσθην, ἅ τε ποσσὶν ἀέθλια γίγνεται ἀνδρῶν,
ἀλλὰ περὶ ψυχῆς θέον Ἕκτορος ἱπποδάμοιο.
ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ἀεθλοφόροι περὶ τέρματα μώνυχες ἵπποι
ῥίμφα μάλα τρωχῶσι· τὸ δὲ μέγα κεῖται ἄεθλον,
ἢ τρίπος ἠὲ γυνὴ ἀνδρὸς κατατεθνηῶτος·
ὣς τὼ τρὶς Πριάμοιο πόλιν πέρι δινηθήτην
καρπαλίμοισι πόδεσσι· θεοὶ δ’ ἐς πάντες ὁρῶντο·
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε·
«ὢ πόποι, ἦ φίλον ἄνδρα διωκόμενον περὶ τεῖχος

ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι· ἐμὸν δ’ ὀλοφύρεται ἦτορ
Ἕκτορος, ὅς μοι πολλὰ βοῶν ἐπὶ μηρί’ ἔκηεν
Ἴδης ἐν κορυφῇσι πολυπτύχου, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε
ἐν πόλει ἀκροτάτῃ· νῦν αὖτέ ἑ δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς
ἄστυ πέρι Πριάμοιο ποσὶν ταχέεσσι διώκει.
ἀλλ’ ἄγετε φράζεσθε, θεοί, καὶ μητιάασθε
ἠέ μιν ἐκ θανάτοιο σαώσομεν, ἦέ μιν ἤδη
Πηλεΐδῃ Ἀχιλῆϊ δαμάσσομεν ἐσθλὸν ἐόντα.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
«ὦ πάτερ ἀργικέραυνε, κελαινεφές, οἷον ἔειπες·
ἄνδρα θνητὸν ἐόντα, πάλαι πεπρωμένον αἴσῃ,
ἂψ ἐθέλεις θανάτοιο δυσηχέος ἐξαναλῦσαι;
ἔρδ’· ἀτὰρ οὔ τοι πάντες ἐπαινέομεν θεοὶ ἄλλοι.»
Τὴν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
θ«άρσει, Τριτογένεια, φίλον τέκος· οὔ νύ τι θυμῷ
πρόφρονι μυθέομαι, ἐθέλω δέ τοι ἤπιος εἶναι·
ἔρξον ὅπῃ δή τοι νόος ἔπλετο, μὴ δ’ ἔτ’ ἐρώει.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν ὄτρυνε πάρος μεμαυῖαν Ἀθήνην·
βῆ δὲ κατ’ Οὐλύμποιο καρήνων ἀΐξασα.
Ἕκτορα δ’ ἀσπερχὲς κλονέων ἔφεπ’ ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς.
ὡς δ’ ὅτε νεβρὸν ὄρεσφι κύων ἐλάφοιο δίηται,
ὄρσας ἐξ εὐνῆς, διά τ’ ἄγκεα καὶ διὰ βήσσας·
τὸν δ’ εἴ πέρ τε λάθῃσι καταπτήξας ὑπὸ θάμνῳ,
ἀλλά τ’ ἀνιχνεύων θέει ἔμπεδον, ὄφρά κεν εὕρῃ·
ὣς Ἕκτωρ οὐ λῆθε ποδώκεα Πηλεΐωνα.
ὁσσάκι δ’ ὁρμήσειε πυλάων Δαρδανιάων
ἀντίον ἀΐξασθαι ἐϋδμήτους ὑπὸ πύργους,
εἴ πως οἷ καθύπερθεν ἀλάλκοιεν βελέεσσι,
τοσσάκι μιν προπάροιθεν ἀποστρέψασκε παραφθὰς
πρὸς πεδίον· αὐτὸς δὲ ποτὶ πτόλιος πέτετ’ αἰεί.

ὡς δ’ ἐν ὀνείρῳ οὐ δύναται φεύγοντα διώκειν·
οὔτ’ ἄρ’ ὁ τὸν δύναται ὑποφεύγειν οὔθ’ ὁ διώκειν·
ὣς ὁ τὸν οὐ δύνατο μάρψαι ποσίν, οὐδ’ ὃς ἀλύξαι.
πῶς δέ κεν Ἕκτωρ κῆρας ὑπεξέφυγεν θανάτοιο,
εἰ μή οἱ πύματόν τε καὶ ὕστατον ἤντετ’ Ἀπόλλων
ἐγγύθεν, ὅς οἱ ἐπῶρσε μένος λαιψηρά τε γοῦνα;
λαοῖσιν δ’ ἀνένευε καρήατι δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς,
οὐδ’ ἔα ἱέμεναι ἐπὶ Ἕκτορι πικρὰ βέλεμνα,
μή τις κῦδος ἄροιτο βαλών, ὁ δὲ δεύτερος ἔλθοι.
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ τὸ τέταρτον ἐπὶ κρουνοὺς ἀφίκοντο,
καὶ τότε δὴ χρύσεια πατὴρ ἐτίταινε τάλαντα,
ἐν δ’ ἐτίθει δύο κῆρε τανηλεγέος θανάτοιο,
τὴν μὲν Ἀχιλλῆος, τὴν δ’ Ἕκτορος ἱπποδάμοιο,
ἕλκε δὲ μέσσα λαβών· ῥέπε δ’ Ἕκτορος αἴσιμον ἦμαρ,
ᾤχετο δ’ εἰς Ἀΐδαο, λίπεν δέ ἑ Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων.
Πηλεΐωνα δ’ ἵκανε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
ἀγχοῦ δ’ ἱσταμένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«νῦν δὴ νῶι ἔολπα, Διῒ φίλε φαίδιμ’ Ἀχιλλεῦ,
οἴσεσθαι μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιοῖσι προτὶ νῆας,
Ἕκτορα δῃώσαντε μάχης ἄατόν περ ἐόντα.
οὔ οἱ νῦν ἔτι γ’ ἔστι πεφυγμένον ἄμμε γενέσθαι,
οὐδ’ εἴ κεν μάλα πολλὰ πάθοι ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων
προπροκυλινδόμενος πατρὸς Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο.
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν νῦν στῆθι καὶ ἄμπνυε, τόνδε δ’ ἐγώ τοι
οἰχομένη πεπιθήσω ἐναντίβιον μαχέσασθαι.»
Ὣς φάτ’ Ἀθηναίη, ὁ δ’ ἐπείθετο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ,
στῆ δ’ ἄρ’ ἐπὶ μελίης χαλκογλώχινος ἐρεισθείς.
ἡ δ’ ἄρα τὸν μὲν ἔλειπε, κιχήσατο δ’ Ἕκτορα δῖον
Δηϊφόβῳ ἐϊκυῖα δέμας καὶ ἀτειρέα φωνήν·

ἀγχοῦ δ’ ἱσταμένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«ἠθεῖ’ ἦ μάλα δή σε βιάζεται ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς,
ἄστυ πέρι Πριάμοιο ποσὶν ταχέεσσι διώκων·
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δὴ στέωμεν καὶ ἀλεξώμεσθα μένοντες.»
Τὴν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε μέγας κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ·
«Δηΐφοβ’, ἦ μέν μοι τὸ πάρος πολὺ φίλτατος ἦσθα
γνωτῶν οὓς Ἑκάβη ἠδὲ Πρίαμος τέκε παῖδας·
νῦν δ’ ἔτι καὶ μᾶλλον νοέω φρεσὶ τιμήσασθαι,
ὃς ἔτλης ἐμεῦ εἵνεκ’, ἐπεὶ ἴδες ὀφθαλμοῖσι,
τείχεος ἐξελθεῖν, ἄλλοι δ’ ἔντοσθε μένουσι.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
«ἠθεῖ’, ἦ μὲν πολλὰ πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ
λίσσονθ’ ἑξείης γουνούμενοι, ἀμφὶ δ’ ἑταῖροι,
αὖθι μένειν· τοῖον γὰρ ὑποτρομέουσιν ἅπαντες·
ἀλλ’ ἐμὸς ἔνδοθι θυμὸς ἐτείρετο πένθεϊ λυγρῷ.
νῦν δ’ ἰθὺς μεμαῶτε μαχώμεθα, μὴ δέ τι δούρων
ἔστω φειδωλή, ἵνα εἴδομεν εἴ κεν Ἀχιλλεὺς
νῶϊ κατακτείνας ἔναρα βροτόεντα φέρηται
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς, ἦ κεν σῷ δουρὶ δαμήῃ.»
Ὣς φαμένη καὶ κερδοσύνῃ ἡγήσατ’ Ἀθήνη·
οἱ δ’ ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦσαν ἐπ’ ἀλλήλοισιν ἰόντες,
τὸν πρότερος προσέειπε μέγας κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ·
«οὔ σ’ ἔτι, Πηλέος υἱέ, φοβήσομαι, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ
τρὶς περὶ ἄστυ μέγα Πριάμου δίον, οὐδέ ποτ’ ἔτλην
μεῖναι ἐπερχόμενον· νῦν αὖτέ με θυμὸς ἀνῆκε
στήμεναι ἀντία σεῖο· ἕλοιμί κεν, ἤ κεν ἁλοίην.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δεῦρο θεοὺς ἐπιδώμεθα· τοὶ γὰρ ἄριστοι
μάρτυροι ἔσσονται καὶ ἐπίσκοποι ἁρμονιάων·
οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ σ’ ἔκπαγλον ἀεικιῶ, αἴ κεν ἐμοὶ Ζεὺς

δώῃ καμμονίην, σὴν δὲ ψυχὴν ἀφέλωμαι·
ἀλλ’ ἐπεὶ ἄρ κέ σε συλήσω κλυτὰ τεύχε’ Ἀχιλλεῦ,
νεκρὸν Ἀχαιοῖσιν δώσω πάλιν· ὣς δὲ σὺ ῥέζειν.»
Τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς·
«Ἕκτορ, μή μοι ἄλαστε, συνημοσύνας ἀγόρευε·
ὡς οὐκ ἔστι λέουσι καὶ ἀνδράσιν ὅρκια πιστά,
οὐδὲ λύκοι τε καὶ ἄρνες ὁμόφρονα θυμὸν ἔχουσιν,
ἀλλὰ κακὰ φρονέουσι διαμπερὲς ἀλλήλοισιν,
ὣς οὐκ ἔστ’ ἐμὲ καὶ σὲ φιλήμεναι, οὐδέ τι νῶϊν
ὅρκια ἔσσονται, πρίν γ’ ἢ ἕτερόν γε πεσόντα
αἵματος ἆσαι Ἄρηα, ταλαύρινον πολεμιστήν.
παντοίης ἀρετῆς μιμνήσκεο· νῦν σε μάλα χρὴ
αἰχμητήν τ’ ἔμεναι καὶ θαρσαλέον πολεμιστήν.
οὔ τοι ἔτ’ ἔσθ’ ὑπάλυξις, ἄφαρ δέ σε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
ἔγχει ἐμῷ δαμάᾳ· νῦν δ’ ἀθρόα πάντ’ ἀποτίσεις
κήδε’ ἐμῶν ἑτάρων, οὓς ἔκτανες ἔγχεϊ θύων.»
Ἦ ῥα, καὶ ἀμπεπαλὼν προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος·
καὶ τὸ μὲν ἄντα ἰδὼν ἠλεύατο φαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ·
ἕζετο γὰρ προϊδών, τὸ δ’ ὑπέρπτατο χάλκεον ἔγχος,
ἐν γαίῃ δ’ ἐπάγη· ἀνὰ δ’ ἥρπασε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη,
ἂψ δ’ Ἀχιλῆϊ δίδου, λάθε δ’ Ἕκτορα ποιμένα λαῶν.
Ἕκτωρ δὲ προσέειπεν ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα·
«ἤμβροτες, οὐδ’ ἄρα πώ τι θεοῖς ἐπιείκελ’ Ἀχιλλεῦ,
ἐκ Διὸς ἠείδης τὸν ἐμὸν μόρον, ἦ τοι ἔφης γε·
ἀλλά τις ἀρτιεπὴς καὶ ἐπίκλοπος ἔπλεο μύθων,
ὄφρά σ’ ὑποδείσας μένεος ἀλκῆς τε λάθωμαι.
οὐ μέν μοι φεύγοντι μεταφρένῳ ἐν δόρυ πήξεις,
ἀλλ’ ἰθὺς μεμαῶτι διὰ στήθεσφιν ἔλασσον,
εἴ τοι ἔδωκε θεός· νῦν αὖτ’ ἐμὸν ἔγχος ἄλευαι

χάλκεον· ὡς δή μιν σῷ ἐν χροῒ πᾶν κομίσαιο.
καί κεν ἐλαφρότερος πόλεμος Τρώεσσι γένοιτο
σεῖο καταφθιμένοιο· σὺ γάρ σφισι πῆμα μέγιστον.»
Ἦ ῥα, καὶ ἀμπεπαλὼν προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος,
καὶ βάλε Πηλεΐδαο μέσον σάκος οὐδ’ ἀφάμαρτε·
τῆλε δ’ ἀπεπλάγχθη σάκεος δόρυ· χώσατο δ’ Ἕκτωρ
ὅττί ῥά οἱ βέλος ὠκὺ ἐτώσιον ἔκφυγε χειρός,
στῆ δὲ κατηφήσας, οὐδ’ ἄλλ’ ἔχε μείλινον ἔγχος.
Δηΐφοβον δ’ ἐκάλει λευκάσπιδα μακρὸν ἀΰσας·
ᾔτεέ μιν δόρυ μακρόν· ὁ δ’ οὔ τί οἱ ἐγγύθεν ἦεν.
Ἕκτωρ δ’ ἔγνω ᾗσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ φώνησέν τε·
«ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δή με θεοὶ θάνατον δὲ κάλεσσαν·
Δηΐφοβον γὰρ ἔγωγ’ ἐφάμην ἥρωα παρεῖναι·
ἀλλ’ ὁ μὲν ἐν τείχει, ἐμὲ δ’ ἐξαπάτησεν Ἀθήνη.
νῦν δὲ δὴ ἐγγύθι μοι θάνατος κακός, οὐδ’ ἔτ’ ἄνευθεν,
οὐδ’ ἀλέη· ἦ γάρ ῥα πάλαι τό γε φίλτερον ἦεν
Ζηνί τε καὶ Διὸς υἷι ἑκηβόλῳ, οἵ με πάρος γε
πρόφρονες εἰρύατο· νῦν αὖτέ με μοῖρα κιχάνει.
μὴ μὰν ἀσπουδί γε καὶ ἀκλειῶς ἀπολοίμην,
ἀλλὰ μέγα ῥέξας τι καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι.»
Ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας εἰρύσσατο φάσγανον ὀξύ,
τό οἱ ὑπὸ λαπάρην τέτατο μέγα τε στιβαρόν τε,
οἴμησεν δὲ ἀλεὶς ὥς τ’ αἰετὸς ὑψιπετήεις,
ὅς τ’ εἶσιν πεδίον δὲ διὰ νεφέων ἐρεβεννῶν
ἁρπάξων ἢ ἄρν’ ἀμαλὴν ἢ πτῶκα λαγωόν·
ὣς Ἕκτωρ οἴμησε τινάσσων φάσγανον ὀξύ.
ὁρμήθη δ’ Ἀχιλεύς, μένεος δ’ ἐμπλήσατο θυμὸν
ἀγρίου, πρόσθεν δὲ σάκος στέρνοιο κάλυψε
καλὸν δαιδάλεον, κόρυθι δ’ ἐπένευε φαεινῇ
τετραφάλῳ· καλαὶ δὲ περισσείοντο ἔθειραι

χρύσεαι, ἃς Ἥφαιστος ἵει λόφον ἀμφὶ θαμειάς.
οἷος δ’ ἀστὴρ εἶσι μετ’ ἀστράσι νυκτὸς ἀμολγῷ
ἕσπερος, ὃς κάλλιστος ἐν οὐρανῷ ἵσταται ἀστήρ,
ὣς αἰχμῆς ἀπέλαμπ’ εὐήκεος, ἣν ἄρ’ Ἀχιλλεὺς
πάλλεν δεξιτερῇ φρονέων κακὸν Ἕκτορι δίῳ,
εἰσορόων χρόα καλόν, ὅπῃ εἴξειε μάλιστα.
τοῦ δὲ καὶ ἄλλο τόσον μὲν ἔχε χρόα χάλκεα τεύχεα,
καλά, τὰ Πατρόκλοιο βίην ἐνάριξε κατακτάς·
φαίνετο δ’ ᾗ κληῗδες ἀπ’ ὤμων αὐχέν’ ἔχουσι,
λαυκανίην, ἵνα τε ψυχῆς ὤκιστος ὄλεθρος·
τῇ ῥ’ ἐπὶ οἷ μεμαῶτ’ ἔλασ’ ἔγχεϊ δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς,
ἀντικρὺ δ’ ἁπαλοῖο δι’ αὐχένος ἤλυθ’ ἀκωκή·
οὐδ’ ἄρ’ ἀπ’ ἀσφάραγον μελίη τάμε χαλκοβάρεια,
ὄφρά τί μιν προτιείποι ἀμειβόμενος ἐπέεσσιν.
ἤριπε δ’ ἐν κονίῃς· ὁ δ’ ἐπεύξατο δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς·
«Ἕκτορ ἀτάρ που ἔφης Πατροκλῆ’ ἐξεναρίζων
σῶς ἔσσεσθ’, ἐμὲ δ’ οὐδὲν ὀπίζεο νόσφιν ἐόντα,
νήπιε· τοῖο δ’ ἄνευθεν ἀοσσητὴρ μέγ’ ἀμείνων
νηυσὶν ἔπι γλαφυρῇσιν ἐγὼ μετόπισθε λελείμμην,
ὅς τοι γούνατ’ ἔλυσα· σὲ μὲν κύνες ἠδ’ οἰωνοὶ
ἑλκήσουσ’ ἀϊκῶς, τὸν δὲ κτεριοῦσιν Ἀχαιοί.»
Τὸν δ’ ὀλιγοδρανέων προσέφη κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ·
«λίσσομ’ ὑπὲρ ψυχῆς καὶ γούνων σῶν τε τοκήων,
μή με ἔα παρὰ νηυσὶ κύνας καταδάψαι Ἀχαιῶν,
ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν χαλκόν τε ἅλις χρυσόν τε δέδεξο,
δῶρα τά τοι δώσουσι πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ,
σῶμα δὲ οἴκαδ’ ἐμὸν δόμεναι πάλιν, ὄφρα πυρός με
Τρῶες καὶ Τρώων ἄλοχοι λελάχωσι θανόντα.»

Τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς·
«μή με κύον, γούνων γουνάζεο μὴ δὲ τοκήων·
αἲ γάρ πως αὐτόν με μένος καὶ θυμὸς ἀνείη
ὤμ’ ἀποταμνόμενον κρέα ἔδμεναι, οἷα ἔοργας,
ὡς οὐκ ἔσθ’ ὃς σῆς γε κύνας κεφαλῆς ἀπαλάλκοι,
οὐδ’ εἴ κεν δεκάκις τε καὶ εἰκοσινήριτ’ ἄποινα
στήσωσ’ ἐνθάδ’ ἄγοντες, ὑπόσχωνται δὲ καὶ ἄλλα,
οὐδ’ εἴ κέν σ’ αὐτὸν χρυσῷ ἐρύσασθαι ἀνώγοι
Δαρδανίδης Πρίαμος· οὐδ’ ὧς σέ γε πότνια μήτηρ
ἐνθεμένη λεχέεσσι γοήσεται ὃν τέκεν αὐτή,
ἀλλὰ κύνες τε καὶ οἰωνοὶ κατὰ πάντα δάσονται.»
Τὸν δὲ καταθνῄσκων προσέφη κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ·
«ἦ σ’ εὖ γιγνώσκων προτιόσσομαι, οὐδ’ ἄρ’ ἔμελλον
πείσειν· ἦ γὰρ σοί γε σιδήρεος ἐν φρεσὶ θυμός.
φράζεο νῦν, μή τοί τι θεῶν μήνιμα γένωμαι
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε κέν σε Πάρις καὶ Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων
ἐσθλὸν ἐόντ’ ὀλέσωσιν ἐνὶ Σκαιῇσι πύλῃσιν.»
Ὣς ἄρα μιν εἰπόντα τέλος θανάτοιο κάλυψε,
ψυχὴ δ’ ἐκ ῥεθέων πταμένη Ἄϊδος δὲ βεβήκει
ὃν πότμον γοόωσα, λιποῦσ’ ἀνδροτῆτα καὶ ἥβην.
τὸν καὶ τεθνηῶτα προσηύδα δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς·
«τέθναθι· κῆρα δ’ ἐγὼ τότε δέξομαι ὁππότε κεν δὴ
Ζεὺς ἐθέλῃ τελέσαι ἠδ’ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι.»
Ἦ ῥα, καὶ ἐκ νεκροῖο ἐρύσσατο χάλκεον ἔγχος,
καὶ τό γ’ ἄνευθεν ἔθηχ’, ὁ δ’ ἀπ’ ὤμων τεύχε’ ἐσύλα
αἱματόεντ’· ἄλλοι δὲ περίδραμον υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
οἳ καὶ θηήσαντο φυὴν καὶ εἶδος ἀγητὸν
Ἕκτορος· οὐδ’ ἄρα οἵ τις ἀνουτητί γε παρέστη.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον·
«ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ μαλακώτερος ἀμφαφάασθαι

Ἕκτωρ ἢ ὅτε νῆας ἐνέπρησεν πυρὶ κηλέῳ.»
Ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε καὶ οὐτήσασκε παραστάς.
τὸν δ’ ἐπεὶ ἐξενάριξε ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς,
στὰς ἐν Ἀχαιοῖσιν ἔπεα πτερόεντ’ ἀγόρευεν·
«ὦ φίλοι, Ἀργείων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
ἐπεὶ δὴ τόνδ’ ἄνδρα θεοὶ δαμάσασθαι ἔδωκαν,
ὃς κακὰ πόλλ’ ἔρρεξεν, ὅσ’ οὐ σύμπαντες οἱ ἄλλοι,
εἰ δ’ ἄγετ’ ἀμφὶ πόλιν σὺν τεύχεσι πειρηθῶμεν,
ὄφρά κ’ ἔτι γνῶμεν Τρώων νόον, ὅν τιν’ ἔχουσιν,
ἢ καταλείψουσιν πόλιν ἄκρην τοῦδε πεσόντος,
ἦε μένειν μεμάασι καὶ Ἕκτορος οὐκέτ’ ἐόντος.
ἀλλὰ τίη μοι ταῦτα φίλος διελέξατο θυμός;
κεῖται πὰρ νήεσσι νέκυς ἄκλαυτος ἄθαπτος
Πάτροκλος· τοῦ δ’ οὐκ ἐπιλήσομαι, ὄφρ’ ἂν ἔγωγε
ζωοῖσιν μετέω καί μοι φίλα γούνατ’ ὀρώρῃ·
εἰ δὲ θανόντων περ καταλήθοντ’ εἰν Ἀΐδαο,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ κεῖθι φίλου μεμνήσομ’ ἑταίρου.
νῦν δ’ ἄγ’ ἀείδοντες παιήονα κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν
νηυσὶν ἔπι γλαφυρῇσι νεώμεθα, τόνδε δ’ ἄγωμεν.
ἠράμεθα μέγα κῦδος· ἐπέφνομεν Ἕκτορα δῖον,
ᾧ Τρῶες κατὰ ἄστυ θεῷ ὣς εὐχετόωντο.»
Ἦ ῥα, καὶ Ἕκτορα δῖον ἀεικέα μήδετο ἔργα.
ἀμφοτέρων μετόπισθε ποδῶν τέτρηνε τένοντε
ἐς σφυρὸν ἐκ πτέρνης, βοέους δ’ ἐξῆπτεν ἱμάντας,
ἐκ δίφροιο δ’ ἔδησε, κάρη δ’ ἕλκεσθαι ἔασεν·
ἐς δίφρον δ’ ἀναβὰς ἀνά τε κλυτὰ τεύχε’ ἀείρας
μάστιξέν ῥ’ ἐλάαν, τὼ δ’ οὐκ ἀέκοντε πετέσθην.
τοῦ δ’ ἦν ἑλκομένοιο κονίσαλος, ἀμφὶ δὲ χαῖται

κυάνεαι πίτναντο, κάρη δ’ ἅπαν ἐν κονίῃσι
κεῖτο πάρος χαρίεν· τότε δὲ Ζεὺς δυσμενέεσσι
δῶκεν ἀεικίσσασθαι ἑῇ ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ.
Ὣς τοῦ μὲν κεκόνιτο κάρη ἅπαν· ἡ δέ νυ μήτηρ
τίλλε κόμην, ἀπὸ δὲ λιπαρὴν ἔρριψε καλύπτρην
τηλόσε, κώκυσεν δὲ μάλα μέγα παῖδ’ ἐσιδοῦσα·
ᾤμωξεν δ’ ἐλεεινὰ πατὴρ φίλος, ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ
κωκυτῷ τ’ εἴχοντο καὶ οἰμωγῇ κατὰ ἄστυ.
τῷ δὲ μάλιστ’ ἄρ’ ἔην ἐναλίγκιον, ὡς εἰ ἅπασα
Ἴλιος ὀφρυόεσσα πυρὶ σμύχοιτο κατ’ ἄκρης.
λαοὶ μέν ῥα γέροντα μόγις ἔχον ἀσχαλόωντα,
ἐξελθεῖν μεμαῶτα πυλάων Δαρδανιάων.
πάντας δ’ ἐλλιτάνευε κυλινδόμενος κατὰ κόπρον,
ἐξονομακλήδην ὀνομάζων ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·
«σχέσθε, φίλοι, καί μ’ οἶον ἐάσατε κηδόμενοί περ
ἐξελθόντα πόληος ἱκέσθ’ ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν,
λίσσωμ’ ἀνέρα τοῦτον ἀτάσθαλον ὀβριμοεργόν,
ἤν πως ἡλικίην αἰδέσσεται ἠδ’ ἐλεήσῃ
γῆρας· καὶ δέ νυ τῷ γε πατὴρ τοιόσδε τέτυκται,
Πηλεύς, ὅς μιν ἔτικτε καὶ ἔτρεφε πῆμα γενέσθαι
Τρωσί· μάλιστα δ’ ἐμοὶ περὶ πάντων ἄλγε’ ἔθηκε.
τόσσους γάρ μοι παῖδας ἀπέκτανε τηλεθάοντας·
τῶν πάντων οὐ τόσσον ὀδύρομαι ἀχνύμενός περ
ὡς ἑνός, οὗ μ’ ἄχος ὀξὺ κατοίσεται Ἄϊδος εἴσω,
Ἕκτορος· ὡς ὄφελεν θανέειν ἐν χερσὶν ἐμῇσι·
τώ κε κορεσσάμεθα κλαίοντέ τε μυρομένω τε,
μήτηρ θ’, ἥ μιν ἔτικτε δυσάμμορος, ἠδ’ ἐγὼ αὐτός.»
Ὣς ἔφατο κλαίων, ἐπὶ δὲ στενάχοντο πολῖται·

Τρῳῇσιν δ’ Ἑκάβη ἁδινοῦ ἐξῆρχε γόοιο·
«τέκνον, ἐγὼ δειλή· τί νυ βείομαι αἰνὰ παθοῦσα,
σεῦ ἀποτεθνηῶτος; ὅ μοι νύκτάς τε καὶ ἦμαρ
εὐχωλὴ κατὰ ἄστυ πελέσκεο, πᾶσί τ’ ὄνειαρ
Τρωσί τε καὶ Τρῳῇσι κατὰ πτόλιν, οἵ σε θεὸν ὣς
δειδέχατ’· ἦ γὰρ καί σφι μάλα μέγα κῦδος ἔησθα
ζωὸς ἐών· νῦν αὖ θάνατος καὶ μοῖρα κιχάνει.»
Ὣς ἔφατο κλαίουσ’, ἄλοχος δ’ οὔ πώ τι πέπυστο
Ἕκτορος· οὐ γάρ οἵ τις ἐτήτυμος ἄγγελος ἐλθὼν
ἤγγειλ’ ὅττί ῥά οἱ πόσις ἔκτοθι μίμνε πυλάων,
ἀλλ’ ἥ γ’ ἱστὸν ὕφαινε μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο
δίπλακα πορφυρέην, ἐν δὲ θρόνα ποικίλ’ ἔπασσε.
κέκλετο δ’ ἀμφιπόλοισιν ἐϋπλοκάμοις κατὰ δῶμα
ἀμφὶ πυρὶ στῆσαι τρίποδα μέγαν, ὄφρα πέλοιτο
Ἕκτορι θερμὰ λοετρὰ μάχης ἐκ νοστήσαντι,
νηπίη, οὐδ’ ἐνόησεν ὅ μιν μάλα τῆλε λοετρῶν
χερσὶν Ἀχιλλῆος δάμασε γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
κωκυτοῦ δ’ ἤκουσε καὶ οἰμωγῆς ἀπὸ πύργου·
τῆς δ’ ἐλελίχθη γυῖα, χαμαὶ δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε κερκίς·
ἡ δ’ αὖτις δμῳῇσιν ἐϋπλοκάμοισι μετηύδα·
«δεῦτε, δύω μοι ἕπεσθον, ἴδωμ’ ὅτιν’ ἔργα τέτυκται.
αἰδοίης ἑκυρῆς ὀπὸς ἔκλυον, ἐν δ’ ἐμοὶ αὐτῇ
στήθεσι πάλλεται ἦτορ ἀνὰ στόμα, νέρθε δὲ γοῦνα
πήγνυται· ἐγγὺς δή τι κακὸν Πριάμοιο τέκεσσιν.
αἲ γὰρ ἀπ’ οὔατος εἴη ἐμεῦ ἔπος· ἀλλὰ μάλ’ αἰνῶς
δείδω μὴ δή μοι θρασὺν Ἕκτορα δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς
μοῦνον ἀποτμήξας πόλιος πεδίον δὲ δίηται,
καὶ δή μιν καταπαύσῃ ἀγηνορίης ἀλεγεινῆς,
ἥ μιν ἔχεσκ’, ἐπεὶ οὔ ποτ’ ἐνὶ πληθυῖ μένεν ἀνδρῶν,
ἀλλὰ πολὺ προθέεσκε, τὸ ὃν μένος οὐδενὶ εἴκων.»

Ὣς φαμένη μεγάροιο διέσσυτο μαινάδι ἴση,
παλλομένη κραδίην· ἅμα δ’ ἀμφίπολοι κίον αὐτῇ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πύργόν τε καὶ ἀνδρῶν ἷξεν ὅμιλον,
ἔστη παπτήνασ’ ἐπὶ τείχεϊ, τὸν δὲ νόησεν
ἑλκόμενον πρόσθεν πόλιος· ταχέες δέ μιν ἵπποι
ἕλκον ἀκηδέστως κοίλας ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν.
τὴν δὲ κατ’ ὀφθαλμῶν ἐρεβεννὴ νὺξ ἐκάλυψεν,
ἤριπε δ’ ἐξοπίσω, ἀπὸ δὲ ψυχὴν ἐκάπυσσε.
τῆλε δ’ ἀπὸ κρατὸς βάλε δέσματα σιγαλόεντα,
ἄμπυκα κεκρύφαλόν τε ἰδὲ πλεκτὴν ἀναδέσμην
κρήδεμνόν θ’, ὅ ῥά οἱ δῶκε χρυσῆ Ἀφροδίτη
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε μιν κορυθαίολος ἠγάγεθ’ Ἕκτωρ
ἐκ δόμου Ἠετίωνος, ἐπεὶ πόρε μυρία ἕδνα.
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν γαλόῳ τε καὶ εἰνατέρες ἅλις ἔσταν,
αἵ ἑ μετὰ σφίσιν εἶχον ἀτυζομένην ἀπολέσθαι.
ἣ δ’ ἐπεὶ οὖν ἔμπνυτο καὶ ἐς φρένα θυμὸς ἀγέρθη,
ἀμβλήδην γοόωσα μετὰ Τρῳῇσιν ἔειπεν·
«Ἕκτορ ἐγὼ δύστηνος· ἰῇ ἄρα γεινόμεθ’ αἴσῃ
ἀμφότεροι, σὺ μὲν ἐν Τροίῃ Πριάμου κατὰ δῶμα,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ Θήβῃσιν ὑπὸ Πλάκῳ ὑληέσσῃ
ἐν δόμῳ Ἠετίωνος, ὅ μ’ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐοῦσαν,
δύσμορος αἰνόμορον· ὡς μὴ ὤφελλε τεκέσθαι.
νῦν δὲ σὺ μὲν Ἀΐδαο δόμους ὑπὸ κεύθεσι γαίης
ἔρχεαι, αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ στυγερῷ ἐνὶ πένθεϊ λείπεις
χήρην ἐν μεγάροισι· πάϊς δ’ ἔτι νήπιος αὔτως,
ὃν τέκομεν σύ τ’ ἐγώ τε δυσάμμοροι· οὔτε σὺ τούτῳ
ἔσσεαι Ἕκτορ ὄνειαρ ἐπεὶ θάνες, οὔτε σοὶ οὗτος.
ἤν περ γὰρ πόλεμόν γε φύγῃ πολύδακρυν Ἀχαιῶν,

αἰεί τοι τούτῳ γε πόνος καὶ κήδε’ ὀπίσσω
ἔσσοντ’· ἄλλοι γάρ οἱ ἀπουρίσσουσιν ἀρούρας.
ἦμαρ δ’ ὀρφανικὸν παναφήλικα παῖδα τίθησι·
πάντα δ’ ὑπεμνήμυκε, δεδάκρυνται δὲ παρειαί,
δευόμενος δέ τ’ ἄνεισι πάϊς ἐς πατρὸς ἑταίρους,
ἄλλον μὲν χλαίνης ἐρύων, ἄλλον δὲ χιτῶνος·
τῶν δ’ ἐλεησάντων κοτύλην τις τυτθὸν ἐπέσχε·
χείλεα μέν τ’ ἐδίην’, ὑπερῴην δ’ οὐκ ἐδίηνε.
τὸν δὲ καὶ ἀμφιθαλὴς ἐκ δαιτύος ἐστυφέλιξε,
χερσὶν πεπλήγων καὶ ὀνειδείοισιν ἐνίσσων·
“ἔῤῥ’ οὕτως· οὐ σός γε πατὴρ μεταδαίνυται ἡμῖν.”
δακρυόεις δέ τ’ ἄνεισι πάϊς ἐς μητέρα χήρην,
Ἀστυάναξ, ὃς πρὶν μὲν ἑοῦ ἐπὶ γούνασι πατρὸς
μυελὸν οἶον ἔδεσκε καὶ οἰῶν πίονα δημόν·
αὐτὰρ ὅθ’ ὕπνος ἕλοι, παύσαιτό τε νηπιαχεύων,
εὕδεσκ’ ἐν λέκτροισιν, ἐν ἀγκαλίδεσσι τιθήνης,
εὐνῇ ἔνι μαλακῇ θαλέων ἐμπλησάμενος κῆρ·
νῦν δ’ ἂν πολλὰ πάθῃσι, φίλου ἀπὸ πατρὸς ἁμαρτών,
Ἀστυάναξ, ὃν Τρῶες ἐπίκλησιν καλέουσιν·
οἶος γάρ σφιν ἔρυσο πύλας καὶ τείχεα μακρά.
νῦν δὲ σὲ μὲν παρὰ νηυσὶ κορωνίσι νόσφι τοκήων
αἰόλαι εὐλαὶ ἔδονται, ἐπεί κε κύνες κορέσωνται,
γυμνόν· ἀτάρ τοι εἵματ’ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι κέονται
λεπτά τε καὶ χαρίεντα τετυγμένα χερσὶ γυναικῶν.
ἀλλ’ ἤτοι τάδε πάντα καταφλέξω πυρὶ κηλέῳ,
οὐδὲν σοί γ’ ὄφελος, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἐγκείσεαι αὐτοῖς,
ἀλλὰ πρὸς Τρώων καὶ Τρωϊάδων κλέος εἶναι.»
Ὣς ἔφατο κλαίουσ’, ἐπὶ δὲ στενάχοντο γυναῖκες.

THE ILIAD XXII

Thus they, fleeing in terror through the city like fawns, dried the sweat from their bodies and drank, quenching their thirst as they leaned against the handsome ramparts. But the Achaeans drew near the wall, their shields slanted upon their shoulders. As for Hector, a ruinous fate fettered him to remain where he stood, before Ilium and the Scaean gates. Then Phoebus Apollo addressed the son of Peleus: “Why, son of Peleus, do you pursue me on your swift feet, you who are mortal, while I am an immortal god? Have you not yet perceived that I am a god, that you rage so relentlessly? Truly, you have no care left for the Trojans whom you routed; they are penned safely within their city, while you have swerved aside here. You cannot kill me, for it is not my destiny to die.” Greatly vexed, swift-footed Achilles spoke in answer: “You have wronged me, Far-worker, most malicious of all gods, by luring me here, away from the wall. Many more would have seized the earth in their teeth before they reached Ilium. Now you have robbed me of great glory and saved them with ease, since you feared no vengeance to come. Indeed, I would pay you back, if only the power were mine.” So speaking, he set off toward the city, his heart swelling with pride, rushing onward like a prize-winning horse before its chariot, one that runs lightly, straining at full stretch across the plain. Just so did Achilles ply his swift feet and knees. The old man, Priam, was the first to catch sight of him with his eyes, as he sped across the plain, blazing like the star that comes forth at harvest time. Its brilliant rays shine out among the multitude of stars in the dead of night, the star men call by the name Orion’s Dog. It is the brightest of all, yet it is wrought as an evil portent, bringing great fever to wretched mortals. Just so, the bronze glittered about Achilles’ chest as he ran. The old man cried aloud, beating his head with his hands, raising them high. He shouted out, groaning terribly, pleading with his beloved son. But Hector stood fast before the gates, possessed by an insatiate rage to do battle with Achilles. The old man addressed him piteously, stretching out his hands: “Hector, my beloved child, do not wait for this man alone, apart from your comrades, lest you swiftly draw upon yourself your doom, overcome by the son of Peleus, for he is far stronger than you. That ruthless man! If only he were as dear to the gods as he is to me! Then dogs and vultures would soon devour him where he lay. Then this terrible grief would depart from my heart! He has bereaved me of many fine sons, slaying them or selling them into bondage on distant islands. Even now, there are two sons, Lycaon and Polydorus, whom I cannot see among the Trojans gathered safely in the city, sons whom Laothoe, queen among women, bore to me. If they are still alive within the Achaean host, we shall ransom them with bronze and gold, for we have stores of it at home; renowned old Altes gave much dowry to his daughter. But if they are already dead and in the halls of Hades, it is a grief for my heart and for their mother, we who brought them into the world. Yet for the rest of the people, the sorrow will be more fleeting, unless you also die, vanquished by Achilles. No, come inside the ramparts, my child, so that you may save the men and women of Troy. Do not grant great glory to the son of Peleus, and be robbed of your own precious life. And pity me, too, the wretched one, while I still have my senses, ill-fated as I am. Father Cronides will destroy me on the threshold of old age by a grievous doom, after I have lived to see many horrors: my sons slaughtered, my daughters dragged away captive, our chambers plundered, and our infant children dashed against the earth in the dread crucible of war, my daughters-in-law hauled away by the ruinous hands of the Achaeans. And I myself, last of all, will be torn by ravening dogs at my own gates, after some man, with a thrust or cast of the sharp bronze, takes the life from my limbs. The very dogs I raised in my halls to guard my doors and wait beside my table, these dogs will drink my blood and, mad in their hearts, will lie there in my own forecourt. For a young man, all things are seemly when he is slain in battle, torn by the sharp bronze. Though he lies dead, all is honorable, whatever is revealed. But when the dogs dishonor the gray head and gray beard and the nakedness of an old man slain, this is the most pitiful sight that befalls wretched mortals.” So the old man spoke, and he tore at his gray hair, plucking it from his head with his hands. But he could not sway the heart of Hector. Then his mother, on the other side, began to wail, shedding tears, laying bare her bosom and with her other hand holding forth her breast. Weeping, she spoke to him winged words: “Hector, my child! Respect this breast, and pity me. If ever I held it to your lips to soothe your sorrows, remember it now, my beloved child. Ward off this enemy from within the safety of the wall. Do not stand forth as champion against him, that ruthless man! For if he kills you, I shall not be the one to mourn you on your bier, dear blossom, whom I myself bore, nor will your richly-dowered wife. Far from us both, by the ships of the Argives, the swift dogs will devour you.” Thus the two spoke, weeping, to their beloved son, pleading desperately. But they could not sway Hector’s heart. Instead, he awaited the coming of prodigious Achilles. As a mountain serpent by its lair awaits a man, having fed on evil herbs until a dreadful fury fills it, and it glares terribly, coiled within its hole; so Hector, possessed of unquenchable spirit, would not give ground, bracing his shining shield against a jutting tower. And vexed, he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit: “Ah, woe is me. If I retreat within the gates and walls, Polydamas will be the first to heap reproach upon me, he who urged me to lead the Trojans back to the city on that ruinous night when godlike Achilles rose again. But I would not listen; it would have been far better if I had. Now, since I have destroyed the army by my own blind folly, I feel shame before the Trojans and the Trojan women with their trailing robes, lest some man, meaner than I, should say: ‘Hector, trusting in his own strength, has destroyed his people.’ So they will speak. For me, it would be far better to face Achilles, either to slay him and return home, or to perish gloriously before the city. Or what if I lay down my bossed shield and my heavy helmet, and lean my spear against the wall, and go myself to meet the peerless Achilles? What if I promise him Helen, and with her all the treasure that Alexander brought to Troy in his hollow ships—the very things that began this strife—promise to give it all to the sons of Atreus to lead away, and also to divide with the Achaeans all else that our city conceals? And what if I, in turn, exact a sworn oath from the Trojan elders that they will hide nothing, but divide in half all the possessions held within our lovely citadel? But why does my own heart debate such things? I might go to him, but he will show me no pity and no respect. He will simply kill me, naked as I am, like a woman, once I have stripped off my armor. This is no time to parley with him from 'oak or rock,' as a young man and a maiden might, a maiden and a youth, whispering sweet words to one another. Better to clash in combat, and quickly. We shall see to which of us the Olympian grants the glory.” So he pondered, holding his ground. And Achilles drew near, the equal of Enyalius, the flashing-helmed god of war, brandishing the terrible Pelian ash spear over his right shoulder. The bronze around him blazed like the gleam of either a burning fire or the rising sun. But Hector, when he beheld him, was seized by trembling. He no longer dared to remain there, but abandoned the gates and fled in terror. The son of Peleus sprang after him, trusting in his own swift feet. As a hawk in the mountains, swiftest of all winged things, swoops effortlessly after a trembling dove—she flutters away, but the hawk, close behind, with shrill cries darts again and again, his spirit commanding him to seize her—so Achilles flew straight for him, full of fury, and Hector fled beneath the Trojan wall, his knees moving swiftly. They sped past the watchtower and the wind-beaten fig tree, keeping always away from the wall, along the wagon-track, until they came to the two fair-flowing springs, where the twin sources of the swirling Scamander bubble forth. One of these flows with warm water, and steam rises from it as if from a burning fire; but the other flows cold even in summer, like hail or chill snow, or ice formed from water. Nearby were the broad washing-troughs, beautifully made of stone, where the wives of the Trojans and their lovely daughters used to wash their gleaming garments in the old days, in times of peace, before the sons of the Achaeans came. By that place they raced, one fleeing, the other pursuing. A noble man fled before, but one far greater pressed him hard from behind, swiftly; for the prize they sought was no sacrificial beast, no oxhide shield, such as are the customary prizes for the feet of men, but they ran for the very life of Hector, tamer of horses. As when prize-winning, solid-hoofed horses wheel swiftly around the turning posts in a race, where a great prize lies at stake, perhaps a tripod or a woman, in honor of a fallen warrior; so these two circled the city of Priam three times on their swift feet. And all the gods looked on. And among them, the father of men and gods was the first to speak: “Alas! With my own eyes I behold a man dear to me pursued around the wall. My heart grieves for Hector, who has burned for me the thighs of many oxen on the peaks of many-ridged Ida, and at other times upon the high citadel of Troy. And now godlike Achilles chases him on swift feet around the city of Priam. Come then, you gods, take counsel and consider: shall we save him from death, or shall we now allow him, noble though he is, to be vanquished by Achilles, son of Peleus?” Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, answered him: “O Father, lord of the bright lightning, wrapper of dark clouds, what words have you spoken? A mortal man, one long ago doomed by destiny, do you wish to rescue him from the echoing bounds of death? Do so; but be warned that we other gods do not all approve.” And Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, spoke to her in reply: “Take heart, Tritogeneia, my beloved child. I was not speaking in earnest, but I wish to be kind to you. Go now, do as your heart desires, and hesitate no longer.” So he spoke, and spurred on Athene, who was already eager. She darted down from the peaks of Olympus. Meanwhile, swift Achilles pursued Hector relentlessly. As when a hound in the mountains starts a fawn from its lair and hunts it through the glens and hollows; and though the fawn may escape notice for a time, cowering in a thicket, the hound tracks it still, running tirelessly until he finds it; just so, Hector could not elude the swift-footed son of Peleus. As often as Hector tried to dash straight for the Dardanian gates, to shelter beneath the well-built towers, hoping his comrades above might defend him with their missiles, just as often Achilles would cut him off and turn him back toward the plain. Yet Achilles himself always ran on the side closest to the city. And as in a dream, when one man cannot catch another who flees—the one cannot escape, nor the other overtake him—so Achilles could not run Hector down, nor could Hector break free. And how could Hector have escaped the spirits of death, if Apollo, for the very last time, had not drawn near to rouse his strength and his swift knees? But godlike Achilles kept shaking his head at his own men, forbidding them to hurl their bitter darts at Hector, lest one of them might win the glory for the blow, and he himself come only second. But when, on the fourth circuit, they reached the springs, the Father lifted high his golden scales, and in them he placed two fates of grievous death: one for Achilles, and one for Hector, tamer of horses. He grasped the balance by the middle; and Hector’s fated day sank down, dropping toward the house of Hades. And Phoebus Apollo abandoned him. Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, came to the son of Peleus, and standing close beside him, spoke winged words: “Now indeed, glorious Achilles, beloved of Zeus, I trust that we two shall carry great glory back to the Achaean ships, having slain Hector, insatiate of battle though he is. There is no longer any escape for him, not even if the Far-worker Apollo should exhaust himself groveling before the feet of Father Zeus, holder of the aegis. But you, stand here now and catch your breath. I shall go to this man and persuade him to stand and fight you face to face.” So spoke Athene, and he obeyed, rejoicing in his heart. He stood still, leaning on his bronze-barbed spear of ash. She, in turn, left him and went to godlike Hector, taking the form and the unwearying voice of Deiphobus. Standing close, she spoke winged words to him: “My brother, truly swift Achilles presses you hard, chasing you on swift feet around the city of Priam. But come now, let us make a stand and ward him off together.” And great Hector of the flashing helmet answered her: “Deiphobus, truly in time past you were by far the dearest to me of all my brothers, the sons whom Hecuba and Priam bore. But now I feel in my heart I honor you even more, since you dared, for my sake, when you saw my plight, to come forth from the wall, while all the others remain inside.” Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athene, answered him: “My brother, truly our father and our lady mother pleaded with me in turn, clasping my knees, and our comrades gathered round, begging me to remain within; such is the terror that grips them all. But my own heart was worn down by bitter grief. Now let us fight him eagerly, head-on. Let there be no sparing of our spears, so that we may know whether Achilles will slay us both and carry our bloody armor back to the hollow ships, or whether he will be vanquished by your spear.” So Athene spoke, and led him on with her cunning. When they had drawn near, advancing upon one another, great Hector of the flashing helmet was the first to speak: “No longer, son of Peleus, will I flee from you, as I did before. Three times I fled around the great city of Priam, and never dared to withstand your onset. But now my spirit compels me to stand fast against you. I shall either slay or be slain. But come, let us call the gods to witness; for they will be the best guardians and overseers of our covenants. I shall not defile your corpse in any terrible way, if Zeus grants me the endurance to take your life. But once I have stripped you of your glorious armor, Achilles, I will give your body back to the Achaeans. And you must do the same.” Then swift-footed Achilles looked at him grimly and replied: “Hector, you whom I cannot forget, do not speak to me of covenants. As there can be no faithful oaths between lions and men, and as wolves and lambs cannot be of one mind, but must plot evil against each other perpetually, so it is not possible for you and me to find friendship. Nor shall there be any oaths between us, until one or the other has fallen and glutted Ares, the warrior of the tough bull's-hide shield, with his blood. Summon now every last reserve of your valor; now you have need to be a spearman indeed, and a dauntless warrior. There is no escape for you any longer. Pallas Athene will vanquish you at once by my spear. And now you shall pay, all at once, for the sorrows of my companions, whom you slaughtered in your spear-wielding fury.” He spoke, and poised his long-shadowing spear, and cast it. But glorious Hector, watching it come, avoided the blow. He crouched, and the bronze spear flew over his head and fixed itself in the earth. But Pallas Athene snatched it up and returned it to Achilles, unseen by Hector, shepherd of his people. And Hector spoke to the peerless son of Peleus: “You missed. It seems, then, Achilles, peer of the gods, that you did not yet know my fate from Zeus, though you claimed you did. You are nothing but a fluent talker, a trickster with words, hoping I might fear you and forget my valor and my strength. But you shall not plant your spear in my back as I flee. Drive it straight through my chest as I charge you, if a god has indeed granted you that. But now, in turn, look out for my bronze spear. Would that you might take its full length into your flesh! The war would become a lighter thing for the Trojans if you were dead, for you are their greatest affliction.” He spoke, and poised his long-shadowing spear, and cast it. He struck the center of Achilles’ shield, and did not miss. But the spear glanced far away from the shield. Hector was enraged that the swift weapon had flown useless from his hand. He stood downcast, for he had no other spear of ash. He cried aloud, calling to Deiphobus of the white shield, asking him for a long spear. But Deiphobus was nowhere near. Then Hector knew the truth in his heart, and he spoke aloud: “Alas! Truly the gods have summoned me to my death. I thought the hero Deiphobus was here beside me; but he is safe within the wall, and Athene has deceived me. Now evil death is close at hand, no longer far away, and there is no escape. For truly, this must long have been the pleasure of Zeus and of the son of Zeus, the Far-worker, who in times past were eager to protect me. But now my fate has found me. Yet let me not perish without a struggle, or without glory, but let me do some great deed that men yet to be born will hear of.” So speaking, he drew the sharp sword that hung at his flank, great and heavy. He gathered himself and swooped like a high-flying eagle which drops to the plain through the dark clouds to seize a tender lamb or a cowering hare. Just so did Hector swoop, brandishing his sharp sword. Achilles, too, charged, his heart filled with savage fury. He covered his chest with his shield, beautiful and intricately wrought, and his bright, four-crested helmet nodded, the splendid golden plumes tossing about it, which Hephaestus had set thick upon the crest. As a star moves among the stars in the dead of night, Hesperos, the Evening Star, which is the most beautiful star set in the heavens, so shone the bright point of the spear that Achilles balanced in his right hand, devising evil for godlike Hector, searching his fair skin to find where it was most likely to yield. The rest of his body was covered by the bronze armor, the beautiful armor he had stripped from the mighty Patroclus after slaying him. But there was one spot exposed, where the collarbones separate the neck from the shoulders, the gullet, where the soul’s destruction is most swift. There, as Hector charged, godlike Achilles drove his spear, and the point passed straight through the tender neck. Yet the heavy bronze-tipped ash spear did not sever his windpipe, so that Hector could still speak, answering him with words. He fell into the dust. And godlike Achilles boasted over him: “Hector! No doubt you thought, as you stripped Patroclus, that you would be safe. You gave no thought to me, absent as I was, you fool! Far from him, a far greater avenger was left behind by the hollow ships: I, who have undone your knees. You the dogs and birds shall mangle shamefully. But him the Achaeans will honor with burial.” His strength failing him, Hector of the flashing helmet replied: “I implore you, by your own life, by your knees, and by your parents, do not let the dogs of the Achaeans devour me beside their ships. Instead, accept the bronze and gold, all the ransom my father and my lady mother will give you. Give my body back to my home, so that the Trojans and the wives of the Trojans may grant me my due portion of the funeral fire.” Swift-footed Achilles looked at him grimly and replied: “Do not beg me, dog, by my knees or by my parents! Would that my own fury and passion would drive me to carve the raw flesh from your bones and eat it, for the things you have done to me! As surely as this is true, there is no one living who can keep the dogs from your head. Not even if they were to bring and weigh out ransom ten and twenty times over, and promise even more; not even if Priam, son of Dardanus, should bid them pay your weight in gold. Not even then shall your lady mother lay you upon a bier and mourn for the son she bore. Instead, the dogs and the birds will divide every piece of you.” Then, as he died, Hector of the flashing helmet spoke to him: “I knew you well, and I foresaw this. I was never destined to persuade you. Truly, the heart in your breast is made of iron. But take care now, lest I become a cause of the gods’ wrath against you, on that day when Paris and Phoebus Apollo destroy you, for all your valor, at the Scaean gates.” As he spoke these words, the fulfillment of death enveloped him. His soul, fleeting from his limbs, went down to the house of Hades, wailing for its destiny, abandoning its manhood and its youth. And godlike Achilles addressed him, dead though he was: “Lie dead. As for my own fate, I shall accept it whenever Zeus and the other immortal gods see fit to bring it to pass.” He spoke, and pulled his bronze spear from the corpse. He laid it aside, and began to strip the blood-stained armor from Hector’s shoulders. The other sons of the Achaeans ran up around him, and they marveled at the stature and wondrous form of Hector. And not one who stood by failed to wound him. And one man would say, looking at his neighbor: “Ha! In truth, this Hector is far softer to the touch now than when he set the ships ablaze with burning fire.” So they would speak, stepping forward to stab the body. When swift-footed, godlike Achilles had stripped the armor, he stood among the Achaeans and spoke winged words: “My friends, leaders and counselors of the Argives, since the gods have granted us to vanquish this man who wrought more evil than all the others combined, come, let us make a test in arms around the city. Let us learn what mind the Trojans keep: whether they will abandon their high citadel now that this man has fallen, or whether they are determined to hold out, even though Hector is no more. But why does my heart debate such things? There lies by the ships a body, unwept and unburied: Patroclus. I shall not forget him, not so long as I remain among the living and my dear knees still move. And even if, in the house of Hades, men forget their dead, yet I, even there, shall remember my beloved companion. But now, you young men of Achaea, let us sing our paean and return to the hollow ships, and let us bring this man with us. We have won great glory. We have slain godlike Hector, he to whom the Trojans prayed in their city as if to a god.” He spoke, and devised shameful treatment for godlike Hector. He pierced the tendons of both his feet, from heel to ankle, and threaded oxhide thongs through the gashes. He bound them to his chariot, leaving the head to drag. Then, mounting his chariot and loading the glorious armor, he whipped the horses to a run, and the pair flew onward, nothing loath. A cloud of dust rose from the man as he was dragged. His dark hair streamed out on either side, and his head, once so handsome, lay entirely in the dust. For Zeus had now given him over to his enemies, to be dishonored in his own native land. Thus his entire head was fouled with dust. His mother tore at her hair, and flung her shining veil far from her. She raised a great cry when she beheld her son. His beloved father groaned piteously, and all around them the people were seized by wailing and lamentation throughout the city. It was most like this: as if all of beetling Ilios were smoldering in flames, from its summit to its base. The people could scarcely restrain the old man in his distress, frantic as he was to go forth from the Dardanian gates. He implored them all, rolling in the filth, calling out to each man by his name: “Hold back, my friends! Though you care for me, let me go forth alone from the city and make my way to the Achaean ships. I must implore this reckless man, this doer of violent deeds, if perhaps he may respect my age and pity my gray hairs. For he, too, has such a father: Peleus, who begot him and raised him to be a scourge to the Trojans. Yet it is on me, more than any other, that he has inflicted sorrows. So many of my blooming sons he has slain. But I do not lament for all of them, grieved as I am, so much as I do for this one, Hector. The sharp sorrow for him will bring me down to the house of Hades. If only he had died here in my arms! Then we could have taken our fill of weeping and wailing, both his ill-fated mother who bore him, and I myself.” So he spoke, weeping, and the townspeople groaned in reply. And among the Trojan women, Hecuba led the shrill lamentation: “My child, I am wretched. Why should I go on living, having suffered such terrible things, now that you are dead? You who were my glory night and day within the city, and a salvation to all, to the Trojan men and women of our town, who hailed you as if you were a god. For you were indeed a great glory to them while you lived. But now death and fate have overtaken you.” So she spoke, weeping. But Hector’s wife knew nothing yet; for no true messenger had come to her to report that her husband remained outside the gates. Instead, she was weaving at her loom in a deep recess of the high palace, a double-thick purple robe, and she was sprinkling into it intricate flowers. She had called to her fair-tressed serving women in the halls to set a great tripod over the fire, so that a hot bath would be ready for Hector on his return from battle. Witless one! She did not know that far, far from all baths, gray-eyed Athene had brought him down at the hands of Achilles. She heard the sound of wailing and lamentation from the tower. Her limbs were shaken, and the shuttle dropped from her hand to the earth. She spoke again to her fair-tressed serving women: “Come, two of you must follow me. I must see what has happened. I heard the voice of my revered mother-in-law. Within my own breast, my heart leaps to my mouth, and my knees are frozen beneath me. Surely some evil is near the children of Priam. May my words be far from my ear! But I fear dreadfully that godlike Achilles has cut off my bold Hector alone from the city, and is chasing him across the plain; I fear he may have put an end to that ruinous valor that always possessed him. For he would never remain in the throng of men, but would run out far ahead, yielding to no one in his fury.” So speaking, she rushed from the palace like a maenad, her heart pounding wildly. Her serving women went with her. But when she reached the tower and the throng of men, she stood upon the wall, gazing out. She saw him being dragged before the city; the swift horses were dragging him ruthlessly toward the hollow ships of the Achaeans. A black night veiled her eyes. She fell backward, and her spirit fled from her. Far from her head she flung the gleaming ornaments: the frontlet, the coif, and the plaited headband, and the veil, which golden Aphrodite herself had given her on that day when Hector of the flashing helmet led her from the house of Eetion, after he had given innumerable bride-gifts. Around her gathered her husband’s sisters and his brothers’ wives, supporting her among them as she sank, distraught to the point of death. But when at last she revived, and her spirit returned to her breast, she spoke among the Trojan women, wailing with deep sobs: “Hector! I am undone! Truly we were born to a single fate, both of us: you in Troy, in the house of Priam, and I in Thebes, beneath wooded Placos, in the house of Eetion, who raised me when I was just a child. He, ill-fated, and I, doomed to misery. How I wish he had never begotten me! Now you go down to the house of Hades, deep in the hidden places of the earth, and you leave me behind in bitter grief, a widow in your halls. And our son is still just an infant, the child we bore, you and I, doomed couple. You will be no help to him, Hector, now that you are dead, nor he to you. For even if he should survive this war, full of sorrow, still his lot hereafter will be one of toil and grief, for other men will seize his lands. The day of orphanhood makes a child bereft of friends. His head is always bowed, and his cheeks are stained with tears. In his need, the boy seeks out his father’s companions, pulling one by the cloak, another by the tunic. Of those who pity him, one might hold out a small cup, enough to wet his lips, but not to moisten his palate. And some other boy, one whose parents are both living, shoves him from the feast, striking him with his hands and insulting him with sharp words: ‘Be gone! Your father does not dine among us.’ And in tears, the boy will run back to his widowed mother— Astyanax! He who, in times past, would sit on his father’s knee and eat only the marrow and the rich fat of sheep. And when sleep would take him, and he had ceased his childish play, he would lie down to sleep in a bed, in the arms of his nurse, on a soft couch, his heart filled with contentment. But now he will suffer many things, having lost his dear father, Astyanax, 'Lord of the City,' as the Trojans named him; for you alone, Hector, defended their gates and their high walls. But now, beside the beaked ships, far from your parents, the writhing worms will devour you, after the dogs have had their fill. You lie naked; and yet in your halls there are garments stored, fine and graceful, woven by the hands of women. But I shall burn all of these in a blazing fire. They are of no use to you, since you will not be laid out in them, but they shall be a token of your glory from the men and women of Troy.” So she spoke, weeping; and the women joined in her lament.

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