But when goodly Achilles, swift of foot, had despoiled him, then stood he up among the Achaeans and spake winged words: My friends, leaders and rulers of the Argives, seeing the gods have vouchsafed us to slay this man, that hath wrought much evil beyond all the host of the others, come, let us make trial in arms about the city, to the end that we may yet further know what purpose the Trojans have in mind, whether they will leave their high city now that this man is fallen, or whether they are minded to abide, even though Hector be no more. But why doth my heart thus hold converse with me? There lieth by the ships a dead man unwept, unburied, even Patroclus; him will I not forget so long as I abide among the living, and my knees are quick. Nay, if even in the house of Hades men forget their dead, yet will I even there remember my dear comrade. But come, singing our song of victory, ye sons of the Achaeans, let us go back to the hollow ships and bring thither this corpse. We have won us great glory; we have slain goodly Hector, to whom the Trojans made prayer throughout their city, as unto a god. He spake, and devised foul entreatment for goodly Hector.
The tendons of both his feet behind he pierced from heel to ankle, and made fast therethrough thongs of oxhide, and bound them to his chariot, but left the head to trail. Then when he had mounted his car and had lifted therein the glorious armour, he touched the horses with the lash to start thiem, and nothing loath the pair sped onward. And from Hector as he was dragged the dust rose up, and on either side his dark hair flowed outspread, and all in the dust lay the head that was before so fair; but now had Zeus given him over to his foes to suffer foul entreatment in his own native land. So was his head all befouled with dust; but his mother tore her hair and from her flung far her gleaming veil and uttered a cry exceeding loud at sight of her son. And a piteous groan did his father utter, and around them the folk was holden of wailing and groaning throughout the city. Most like to this was it as though all beetling Ilios were utterly burning with fire. And the folk had much ado to hold back the old man in his frenzy, fain as he was to go forth from the Dardanian gates.
To all he made prayer, grovelling the while in the filth, and calling on each man by name: Withhold, my friends, and suffer me for all your love to go forth from the city alone, and hie me to the ships of the Achaeans. I will make prayer to yon ruthless man, yon worker of violence, if so be he may have shame before his fellows and have pity on my old age. He too, I ween, hath a father such as I am, even Peleus, that begat him and reared him to be a bane to Trojans; but above all others hath he brought woe upon me, so many sons of mine hath he slain in their prime. Yet for them all I mourn not so much, despite my grief, as for one only, sharp grief for whom will bring me down to the house of Hades—even for Hector. Ah, would he had died in my arms; then had we taken our fill of weeping and wailing, the mother that bare him to her sorrow, and myself. So spake he weeping, and thereto the townsfolk added their laments. And among the women of Troy Hecabe led the vehement lamentation: My child, ah woe is me! How shall I live in my sore anguish, now thou art dead?—thou that wast my boast night and day in the city, and a blessing to all, both to the men and women of Troy throughout the town, who ever greeted thee as a god; for verily thou wast to them a glory exceeding great, while yet thou livedst; but now death and fate are come upon thee.
So spake she weeping; but the wife knew naught as yet the wife of Hector—for no true messenger had come to tell her that her husband abode without the gates; but she was weaving a web in the innermost part of the lofty house, a purple web of double fold, and therein was broidering flowers of varied hue. And she called to her fair-tressed handmaids through the house to set a great tripod on the fire, to the end that there should be a hot bath for Hector whenso he returned from out the battle—unwitting one, neither wist she anywise that far from all baths flashing-eyed Athene had laid him low by the hand of Achilles. But the shrieks she heard and the groanings from the wall, and her limbs reeled, and from her hand the shuttle fell to earth. Then she spake again among her fair-tressed handmaids: Come hither two of you, and follow me, let me see what deeds have been wrought. It was the voice of my husband's honoured mother that I heard, and in mine own breast my heart leapeth to my mouth, and beneath me my knees are numbed; verily hard at hand is some evil thing for the children of Priam.
Far from my ear be the word, but sorely am I afraid lest to my sorrow goodly Achilles may have cut off from the city bold Hector by himself alone, and have driven him to the plain, aye, and have by now made him to cease from the baneful valour that possessed him; seeing he would never abide in the throng of men, but would ever charge far to the front, yielding to no man in his might. So saying she hasted through the hall with throbbing heart as one beside herself, and with her went her handmaidens. But when she was come to the wall and the throng of men, then on the wall she stopped and looked, and was ware of him as he was dragged before the city; and swift horses were dragging him ruthlessly toward the hollow ships of the Achaeans. Then down over her eyes came the darkness of night, and enfolded her, and she fell backward and gasped forth her spirit. Far from off her head she cast the bright attiring thereof, the frontlet and coif and kerchief and woven band, and the veil that golden Aphrodite had given her on the day when Hector of the flashing helm hed her as his bride forth from the house of Eetion, after he had brought bride-gifts past counting.
And round about her came thronging ber husband's sisters and his brothers' wives, who bare her up in their midst, distraught even unto death. But when she revived, and her spirit was returned into her breast, then she lifted up her voice in wailing, and spake among the women of Troy: Ah Hector, woe is me! to one fate, it seemeth, were we born, both of us twain, thou in Troy in the house of Priam, and I in Thebe beneath wooded Placus in the house of Eetion, who reared me when I was a babe, hapless father of a cruel-fated child; would God he had never begotten me. Now thou unto the house of Hades beneath the deeps of earth art departing, but me thou leavest in bitter grief, a widow in thy halls, and thy son is still a mere babe, the son born of thee and me in our haplessness; nor shalt thou be any profit to him, Hector, seeing thou art dead, neither he to thee. For even though he escape the woeful war of the Achaeans, yet shall his portion be labour and sorrow in the aftertime, for others will take away his lands.
The day of orphanhood cutteth a child off from the friends of his youth; ever is his head bowed how, and his cheeks are bathed in tears, and in his need the child hieth him to his father's friends, plucking one by the cloak and another by the tunic; and of them that are touched with pity, one holdeth forth his cup for a moment: his hips he wetteth, but his palate he wetteth not. And one whose father and mother yet live thrusteth him from the feast with smiting of the hand, and chideth him with words of reviling:‘Get thee gone, even as thou art! No father of thine feasteth in our company.’ Then in tears unto his widowed mother cometh back the child— Astyanax, that aforetime on his father's knees ate only marrow and the rich fat of sheep; and when sleep came upon him and he ceased from his childish play, then would he slumber on a couch in the arms of his nurse in his soft bed, his heart satisfied with good things. But now, seeing he has lost his dear father, he will suffer ills full many—my Astyanax, whom the Troians call by this name for that thou alone didst save their gates and their high walls. But now by the beaked ships far from thy parents shall writhing worms devour thee, when the dogs have had their fill, as thou liest a naked corpse; yet in thy halls lieth raiment, finely-woven and fair, wrought by the hands of women. Howbeit all these things will I verily burn in blazing fire—in no wise a profit unto thee, seeing thou shalt not lie therein, but to be an honour unto thee from the men and women of Troy. So spake she weeping, and thereto the women added their laments.
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