said to him, “I have ill news for thee. Thou seest that the men of Troy
have the victory to-day. And also Patroclus lies dead. Run, therefore,
to Achilles, and tell him, if haply he may save the body; but as for the
arms, Hector has them already.”
Sore dismayed was Antilochus to hear such tidings, and his eyes were
filled with tears and his voice was choked. Yet did he give heed to the
words of Menelaus, and ran to tell Achilles of what had chanced.
Antilochus came near to Achilles, who, indeed, seeing that the Greeks
fled and the men of Troy pursued, was already sore afraid. And he said,
weeping as he spake, “I bring ill news—Patroclus lies low. The Greeks
fight for his body, but Hector has his arms.”
Then Achilles took of the dust of the plain in his hands, and poured it
on his head, and lay at his length upon the ground, and tore his hair.
And all the women wailed. And Antilochus sat weeping; but ever he held
the hands of Achilles, lest he should slay himself in his great grief.
Then came his mother, hearing his cry, from where she sat in the depths
of the sea, and laid her hand on him and said, “Why weepest thou, my son?
Hide not the matter from me, but tell me.”
And Achilles answered, “All that Jupiter promised thee for me he hath
fulfilled. But what profit have I, for lo! my friend Patroclus is dead,
and Hector has the arms which I gave him to wear. And as for me, I care
not to live, except I can avenge me upon him.”
THE DEATH OF HECTOR
By Alfred J. Church
Priam stood on a tower of the wall and saw the people flying before the
attacks of Achilles, so he hastened down to the gates and said to the
keepers, “Keep the wicket-gates open, that the people may enter in.”
So the keepers held the gates open, and the people hastened in, wearied
with toil and thirst and covered with dust, and Achilles followed close
upon them. At that hour the Greeks would have taken the city of Troy, but
that Apollo saved it by putting courage into the heart of Antenor’s son
Agenor, and by standing by him that he should not be slain.
Agenor stood thinking within himself—“Shall I flee with these others?
Achilles will take me and slay me, and I shall die as a coward dies. What
if I stand to meet him before the gates? He, too, is a mortal man and
his flesh may be pierced by the spear.”
When Achilles came near he cast his spear, striking the leg below the
knee, but the armor was so strong it turned off the spear. But when
Achilles would have slain him, lo! Apollo lifted him up and set him
within the city, and that the men of Troy might have space to enter, he
took upon him Agenor’s shape. The false Agenor fled, and Achilles pursued
him.
In the meanwhile the men of Troy flocked into the city, without stopping
to ask who was safe and who was dead. Only Hector remained outside the
walls, standing in front of the great Scæan gates. But all the while
Achilles was fiercely pursuing the false Agenor, till at last Apollo
turned and spake to him—
“Why dost thou pursue me, swift-footed Achilles? Hast thus not yet found
out that I am a god, and that all thy fury is in vain? All the sons of
Troy are safe in their city, and thou art here, far out of the way,
seeking to slay me, who cannot die.”
In great wrath Achilles answered him, “Thou hast done me wrong in so
drawing me away from the wall, great archer, most mischief-loving of all
the gods. Had it not been for this, many a Trojan more had bitten the
ground. Thou hast robbed me of great glory, and saved thy favorites. O
that I had the power to take vengeance on thee! Thou hadst paid dearly
for thy cheat!”
Then he turned and rushed towards the city, swift as a racehorse whirls
a chariot across the plain. Old Priam spied him from the walls, with his
glittering armor, bright as that brightest of the stars—men call it
Orion’s dog—which shines at vintage-time, a baleful light, bringing the
fevers of autumn to men. And the old man groaned aloud when he saw him,
and stretching out his hands, cried to his son Hector, where he stood
before the gates, eager to do battle with this dread warrior—
“Wait not for this man, dear son, wait not for him, lest thou die beneath
his hand, for indeed he is stronger than thou. Wretch that he is! I would
that the gods bare such love to him as I bare! Right soon would the dogs
and vultures eat him. Of many brave sons has he bereaved me. Two I miss
to-day—Polydorus and Lycaon. May be they are yet alive in the host of
the Greeks, and I shall buy them back with gold, of which I have yet
great store in my house. And if they are dead, sore grief will it be to
me and to the mother who bare them; but little will care the other sons
of Troy, so that thou fall not beneath the hand of Achilles. Come within
the walls, dear child; come to save the sons and daughters of Troy; come
in pity for me, thy father, for whom, in my old age, an evil fate is
in store, to see sons slain with the sword, and daughters carried into
captivity, and babes dashed upon the ground. Ay, and last of all, the
dogs which I have reared in my palace will devour me as I lie on the
threshold of my home. That a young man should fall in battle and suffer
such lot as happens to the slain, this is to be borne; but that such
dishonor should be done to the white hair and white beard of the old,
mortal eyes can see no fouler sight than this.”
Thus old Priam spake, but could not turn the heart of his son. And from
the wall on the other side of the gate his mother called to him, weeping
sore, and said—
“Pity me, my son; think of how in the old days I stilled thy cries. Come
within the walls; wait not for this man, nor stand in battle against
him. If he slay thee, neither I, nor thy wife, shall pay thee the last
honors of the dead, but far away by the ships of the Greeks the dogs and
vultures will devour thee.”
So father and mother besought their son, but all in vain. He was still
minded to abide the coming of Achilles. Just as in the mountains a great
snake at its hole abides the coming of a man: fierce glare its eyes,
and it coils its tail: so Hector waited for Achilles; and as he waited
he thought thus within himself—“Woe is me if I go within the walls;
Polydamas will be the first to reproach me, for he advised me to bring
back the sons of Troy to the city before the night when Achilles roused
himself to war. But I would not listen to him. Would that I had! it had
been much better for us; but now I have destroyed the people by my folly.
I fear the sons and daughters of Troy, what they may say; I fear lest
some coward reproach me: ‘Hector trusted in his strength, and lo! he has
destroyed the people.’ Better were it for me either to slay Achilles or
to fall by his hand with honor here before the walls. Or, stay: shall I
put down my shield, and lay aside my helmet, and lean my spear against
the wall and go to meet the great Achilles, and promise that we will
give back the fair Helen, and all the wealth that Paris carried off
with her; ay, and render up all the wealth that there is in the city,
that the Greeks may divide it among themselves, binding the sons of Troy
with an oath that they keep nothing back? But this is idle talk: he will
have no shame or pity, but will slay me while I stand without arms or
armor before him. It is not for us to talk as a youth and a maiden talk
together. It is better to meet in arms, and see whether the ruler of
Olympus will give victory to him or to me.” Thus he thought in his heart.
Achilles came near, brandishing over his right shoulder the great Pelian
spear, and the flash of his arms was as the flame of fire, or as the
rising sun. And Hector trembled when he saw him, nor dared to abide his
coming. Fast he fled from the gates, and fast Achilles pursued him, as a
hawk, fastest of all the birds of air, pursues a dove upon the mountains.
Past the watch-tower they ran, past the wind-blown fig-tree, along the
wagon-road which went about the walls, and they came to the fair-flowing
fountain where from two springs rises the stream of eddying Scamander.
Hot is one spring, and a steam ever goes up from it, as from a burning
fire; and cold is the other, cold, even in the summer heats, as hail or
snow or ice. There are fair basins of stone, where the wives and fair
daughters of Troy were wont to wash their garments, but that was in the
old days of peace, before the Greeks came to the land. Past the springs
they ran, one flying, the other pursuing: brave was he that fled, braver
he that pursued: it was no sheep for sacrifice or shield of ox-hide for
which they ran, but for the life of Hector, the tamer of horses. Thrice
they ran round the city, and all the gods looked on.
And Jupiter said, “This is a piteous sight that I behold. My heart is
grieved for Hector—Hector, who has ever worshipped me with sacrifice,
sometimes on the heights of Ida, and sometimes in the citadel of Troy;
and now the great Achilles is pursuing him round the city of Priam. Come,
ye gods, let us take counsel together. Shall we save him from death, or
let him fall beneath the hand of Achilles?”
Then Minerva said, “What is this that thou sayest, great sire?—to rescue
a man whom fate has appointed to die? Do it, if it be thy will; but we,
the other gods, approve it not.”
Jupiter answered her, “My heart is unwilling; yet I would do thee
pleasure. Be it as thou wilt.”
Then Minerva came down in haste from the top of Olympus, and still Hector
fled and Achilles pursued, just as a dog pursues a fawn upon the hills.
And ever Hector made for the gates, to get shelter beneath the towers,
if haply those that stood upon them might defend him with their spears;
and ever Achilles would get before him, and drive him towards the plain.
So they ran, one making for the city, and the other driving him to the
plain. Just as in a dream, when one seems to fly and another seems to
pursue, and the one cannot escape and the other cannot overtake, so these
two ran together. But as for Hector, Apollo even yet helped him, and gave
him strength and nimble knees, else could he not have held out against
Achilles, who was swiftest of foot among the sons of men.
Now Achilles had beckoned to the Greeks that no man should throw his
spear at Hector, lest, perchance, he should be robbed of his glory. And
when the two came in their running for the fourth time to the springs of
Scamander, Jupiter held out the great balance of doom, and in one scale
he put the fate of Achilles, and in the other the fate of Hector; and lo!
the scale of Hector sank down to the realms of death, and Apollo left him.
Then Minerva lighted down from the air close to Achilles and said, “This,
great Achilles, is our day of glory, for we shall slay Hector, mighty
warrior though he be. For it is his doom to die and Apollo shall not save
him. But stand thou still and take breath, and I will give this man heart
to meet thee in battle.”
So Achilles stood, leaning upon his spear. And Minerva took the shape of
Deïphobus, and came near to Hector and said—
“Achilles presses thee hard, my brother, pursuing thee thus round the
city of Priam. Come, let us make a stand and encounter him.”
Then Hector answered him, “Deïphobus, I always loved thee best of all my
brothers; but now I love thee yet more, for that thou alone, while all
others remained within, hast ventured forth to stand by my side.”
But the false Deïphobus said, “Much did father and mother and all my
comrades beseech me to remain. But my heart was sore troubled for thee,
and I could not stay. Let us stand and fight this man, not stinting our
spears, and see whether he shall carry our spoil to the ships or we
shall slay him here.”
Then the two chiefs came near to each other, and Hector with a waving
plume spake first and said, “Thrice, great Achilles, hast thou pursued
me round the walls of Troy, and I dared not stand up against thee; but
now I fear thee no more. Only let us make this covenant between us: if
Jupiter give me the victory, I will do no dishonor to thy body; thy arms
and armor will I take, and give back thy body to the Greeks; and do thou
promise to do likewise.”
But Achilles scowled at him and said, “Hector, talk not of covenants to
me. Men and lions make no oaths between each other, neither is there any
agreement between wolves and sheep. So there shall be no covenant between
me and thee. One of us two shall fall; and now is the time for thee to
show thyself a warrior, for of a truth Minerva will slay thee by my
spear, and thou shalt pay the penalty for all my comrades whom thou hast
slain.”
Then he threw the mighty spear, but Hector saw it coming and avoided it,
crouching on the ground, so that the mighty spear flew above his head and
fixed itself in the earth. But Minerva snatched it from the ground and
gave it back to Achilles, Hector not perceiving.
Then Hector spake to Achilles, “Thou hast missed thy aim, great Achilles.
It was no word of Jupiter that thou spakest, prophesying my doom, but
thou soughtest to cheat me, terrifying me by thy words. Thou shalt not
drive thy steel into my back, but here into my breast, if the gods will
it so. But now look out for my spear. Would it might bury itself in thy
flesh. The battle would be easier for the men of Troy were thou only out
of the way.”
And as he spake he threw his long-shafted spear. True aim he took, for
the spear struck the very middle of Achilles’ shield. It struck, but
pierced it not, but bounded far away, for the shield was not of mortal
make. And Hector stood dismayed, for he had not another spear, and when
he called to Deïphobus that he should give him another, lo! Deïphobus was
gone. Then Hector knew that his end was come, and he said to himself,
“Now have the gods called me to my doom. I thought that Deïphobus was
near; but he is within the walls, and the help which he promised me was
but a cheat with which Minerva cheated me. Jupiter and Apollo are with me
no more; but, if I must die, let me at least die in such a deed as men of
after time may hear of.”
So he spake, and drew the mighty sword that hung by his side: then, as
an eagle rushes through the clouds to pounce on a hare or a lamb, rushed
on the great Achilles. But he dealt never a blow; for Achilles charged
to meet him, his shield before his breast, his helmet bent forward as
he ran, with the long plumes streaming behind, and the gleam of his
spear-point was as the gleam of the evening star, which is the fairest
of all the stars in heaven. One moment he thought where he should drive
it home, for the armor which Hector had won from Patroclus guarded him
well; but one spot there was, where by the collar-bone the neck joins
the shoulder (and nowhere is the stroke of sword or spear more deadly).
There he drave in the spear, and the point stood out behind the neck, and
Hector fell in the dust.
Then Achilles cried aloud, “Hector, thou thoughtest in the day when
thou didst spoil Patroclus of his arms that thou wouldst be safe from
vengeance, taking, forsooth, no account of me. And lo! thou art fallen
before me.”
But Hector, growing faint, spake to him: “Take the ransom, gold and
bronze, that my father and mother shall pay thee, and let the sons and
daughters of Troy give me burial rites.”
But Achilles scowled at him, and cried, “Dog, seek not to entreat me!
No ransom, though it were ten times told, should buy thee back; no, not
though Priam should offer thy weight in gold.”
Then Hector, who was now at the point to die, spake to him: “I know thee
well, what manner of man thou art, that the heart in thy breast is iron
only. Only beware lest some vengeance from the gods come upon thee in
the day when Paris and Apollo shall slay thee, for all thy valor, by the
Scæan gates.”
So speaking, he died. But Achilles said, “Die, hound; but my fate I meet
when Jupiter and the other gods decree.”
The Greeks came about the dead man, marvelling at his stature and beauty.
And one would say to another, “Surely this Hector is less dreadful now
than in the day when he would burn our ships with fire.”
Then Achilles devised a ruthless thing in his heart. He bound the body
with thongs of ox-hide to the chariot, letting the head drag behind,
and thus he dragged Hector to the ships. Priam saw him from the walls,
and scarce could his sons keep him back, but that he should go forth and
beg the body of his dear son from him who had slain him. And Hecuba his
mother also bewailed him, but his wife Andromaché knew not at yet of what
had befallen him. For she sat in her dwelling, wearing a great purple
mantle broidered with flowers. And she bade her maidens make ready a bath
for Hector, when he should come back from the battle, nor knew that he
should never need it more. But the voice of wailing from the town came to
her, and she rose up hastily in great fear, and dropped the shuttle from
her hand and called to her maidens—
“Come with me, ye maidens, that I may see what has befallen, for I heard
the voice of Queen Hecuba, and I fear me much that some evil has come to
the children of Priam. For it may be that Achilles has run between Hector
and the city, and is pursuing him to the plain, for never will Hector
abide with the army, but will fight in the front, so bold is he.”
Then she hasted through the city as if she were mad. And when she came
to the wall she stood and looked; and lo! the horses of Achilles were
dragging Hector to the ships. Then did darkness come on her, and she fell
back fainting, and from her fair head dropped the net and the wreath and
the diadem which golden Venus gave her on the day when Hector of the
waving plume took her from the house of Eëtion to be his wife.
THE RANSOMING OF HECTOR
By Alfred J. Church
After a while, at the bidding of Jupiter, Thetis went to Achilles and
found him weeping softly for his dead friend, for the strength of his
sorrow was now spent, and she said to him, “It is the will of the gods
that thou give up the body of Hector, and take in exchange the ransom of
gold and precious things which his father will give thee for him.”
And her son answered, “Be it so, if the gods will have it.”
Then Jupiter sent Iris, who was his messenger, to King Priam, where he
sat with his face wrapped in his mantle, and his sons weeping about him,
and his daughters wailing through the chambers of his palace.
Then Iris spake. “Be of good cheer, Priam; Jupiter has sent me to thee.
Go, taking with thee such gifts as may best please the heart of Achilles,
and bring back the body of thy dear son Hector. Go without fear of death
or harm, and go alone. Only let an aged herald be with thee, to help thee
when thou bringest back the body of the dead.”
Then Priam rose with joy, and bade his sons bring forth his chariot; but
first he went to his chamber, and called to Hecuba, his wife, and told
her of his purpose, nor heeded when she sought to turn him from it, but
said, “Seek not to hold me back, nor be a bird of evil omen in my house.
If any prophet or seer had bidden me do this thing, I should have held
it a deceit; but now have I heard the very voice of the messenger of
Jupiter. Wherefore, I shall go. And if I die, what care I? Let Achilles
slay me, so that I embrace once more the body of my son.”
Then he bade them put into a wagon shawls and mantles that had never
been washed, and rugs and cloaks and tunics, twelve of each, and ten
talents of gold, and two bright three-footed caldrons, and four basins,
and a cup of great beauty which the Thracians had given him. The old man
spared nothing that he had, if only he might buy back his son. None of
the Trojans would he suffer to come near him. “Begone,” he cried, “ye
cowards! Have ye nothing to wail for at home, that ye come to wail with
me? Surely, an easy prey will ye be to the Greeks, now that Hector is
dead.”
Then he cried with like angry words to his sons, Paris, and Agathon, and
Deïphobus, and the others—there were nine of them in all—“Make haste,
ye evil brood. Would that ye all had died instead of Hector. Surely an
ill-fated father am I. Many a brave son I had, as Mestor, and Troïlus,
and Hector, who was fairer than any of the sons of men. But all these are
gone, and only the cowards are left, masters of lying words, and skilful
in the dance, and mighty to drink wine. But go, yoke the mules to the
wagon.”
So they yoked the mules to the wagon. But the horses for his chariot
Priam, with the herald, yoked himself.
Then Hecuba came near, and bade a woman-servant come and pour water on
his hands. And when she had poured, King Priam took a great cup from the
hands of his wife, and made a libation to Jupiter, and prayed—“Hear me,
Father Jupiter, and grant that Achilles may pity me. And do thou send me
now a lucky sign, that I may go with a good heart to the ships of the
Greeks.”
And Jupiter heard him, and sent an eagle, a mighty bird, whose wings
spread out on either side as wide as is the door of some spacious chamber
in a rich man’s house. On his right hand it flew high above the city, and
all rejoiced when they saw the sign.
Then the old man mounted his chariot in haste, and drove forth from the
palace. Before him the mules drew the four-wheeled wagon, and these the
herald Idæus guided. But his chariot the old king drove himself. And
all his kinsfolk went with him, weeping as for one who was going to his
death. But when they came down from the city to the plain, Priam and the
herald went towards the ships of the Greeks, but all the others returned
to Troy.
Jupiter saw him depart, and said to Mercury, “Mercury, go, guide King
Priam to the ships of the Greeks, so that no man see him before he comes
to the tents of Achilles.”
Then Mercury fastened on his feet the fair sandals of gold with which he
flies, fast as the wind, over sea and land, and in his hand he took the
rod with which he opens and closes, as he wills, the eyes of men. And he
flew down and lighted on the plain of Troy, taking on him the likeness of
a fair youth.
When they had driven past the great tomb of Ilus, they stopped the horses
and the mules, to let them drink of the river. And darkness came over the
land; and then the herald spied Mercury, and said—“Consider, my lord,
what we shall do. I see a man, and I am sore afraid lest he slay us.
Shall we flee on the chariot, or shall we go near and entreat him, that
he may have pity upon us?”
Then the old man was sore troubled, and his hair stood up with fear. But
Mercury came near and took him by the hand and said—“Whither goest thou,
old man, with thy horses and mules through the darkness? Hast thou no
fear of these fierce Greeks, who are close at hand? If any one should see
thee with all this wealth, what then? And thou art not young, nor is thy
attendant young, that ye should defend yourselves against an enemy. But I
will not harm thee, nor suffer any other, for thou art like my own dear
father.”
“It is well, my son,” said the old man. “Surely one of the blessed gods
is with me, in causing me to meet such an one as thou, so fair and so
wise. Happy the parents of such a son!”
And Mercury said, “Come, tell me true, old man. Are you sending away all
these treasures that they may be kept safe for you far away? Or are all
the men of Troy leaving the city, seeing now that Hector, who was their
bravest warrior, is dead?”
Then Priam answered, “Who art thou, my son, and what thy race, that thou
speakest so truly about my hapless son?”
“Often,” said Mercury, “have I seen Hector in the battle, both at other
times, and when he drove the Greeks before him at the ships. We, indeed,
stood and watched and marvelled at him, for Achilles would not suffer
us to fight, being angry with King Agamemnon. Now, I am a follower of
Achilles, coming from Greece in the same ship with him. One of the
Myrmidons I am, son of Polyctor, an old man such as thou art. Six other
sons he has, and when we drew lots who should come to the war, it fell
to me. But know that with the morning the Greeks will set their battle
in array against the city, for they are weary of their sojourn, and the
kings cannot keep them back.”
Then said Priam, “If they art an attendant of Achilles, tell me true, is
my son yet by the ships, or have the dogs devoured him?”
And Mercury answered, “Nor dogs nor vultures have devoured him. Still he
lies by the ships of Achilles; and though this is the twelfth day since
he was slain, no decay has touched him. Nay, though Achilles drags him
round the tomb of his dear Patroclus, yet even so does no unseemliness
come to him. All fresh he lies, and the blood is washed from him, and all
his wounds are closed—and many spear-points pierced him. The blessed gods
love him well, dead man though he be.”