THE DEATH OF HECTOR.
The Trojans were now safe in the city, refreshing themselves after all
their grievous toil. 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 thou not yet
found out that I am a god, and that all thy fury is in vain? And now
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 that are. 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 bear! 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, lapping my blood and tearing my flesh 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 if perchance she might thus move his pity, she bared
her bosom in his sight, and said,--
“Pity me, my son; think of the breast which I gave thee in the old
days, and stilled thy cries. Come within the walls; wait not for this
man, nor stand in battle against him. If he slay thee, nor 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 about its hole: 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; and 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, or ever 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 Zeus said, “This is a piteous sight that I behold. My heart is
grieved for Hector--Hector, who has ever worshipped me with sacrifice,
now on the heights of Ida, and now 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 Athené 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.”
Zeus answered her, “My heart is loath; yet I would do thee pleasure. Be
it as thou wilt.”
Then Athené 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, or 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, Zeus 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 Athené 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 not
Apollo’s self shall 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 Athené 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. But 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 the 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
Zeus 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 Athené 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 Athené 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 Zeus 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 Athené cheated me. Zeus 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 leveret 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, and now the dogs and vultures shall devour thee, but to him
all the Greeks shall give due burial.”
But Hector, growing faint, spake to him, “Nay, great Achilles, by thy
life, and by thy knees, and by thy parents dear, I pray thee, let not
the dogs of the Greeks devour me. Take rather 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!
I could mince that flesh of thine and devour it raw, such grief hast
thou wrought me. Surely the dogs shall devour thee, nor shall any man
hinder. 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 Zeus and the other gods decree.”
Then he drew his spear out of the corpse and stripped off the arms; and
all the Greeks came about the dead man, marvelling at his stature and
beauty, and no man came but wounded the dead corpse. 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 pierced the
ankle-bones of Hector, and so bound the body with thongs of ox-hide to
the chariot, letting the head drag behind, the head that once was so
fair, and now was so disfigured in the dust. So he dragged Hector to
the ships. And 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 Andromaché knew not as yet of what had befallen. 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 like as 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 Aphrodité gave her on the day when
Hector of the waving plume took her from the house of Eëtion to be his
wife.