So from the house went Hector back with speed,
Thro the wide city to the Western gates,
Meaning that way to pass forth to the field.
There running, when he came, behold his wife,
Andromache, the brave Eetion's child,
Ciliciau ruler, who in Thebe dwelt,
Under the woods of Placos. With her came
A maiden, bearing on her breast the child,
Tender of soul, as yet a child in arms,
Hector's one darling, like a lovely star.
He then beholding smiled upon his babe
In silence; but his wife stood weeping by,
And claspt him by the hand and spake and said: —
" Dear one, thine own brave soul shall be thy fate.
Thou hast no pity for thy child or me,
Ere long thy widow, when the Achaian men
Close round thee like a flood and lay thee low —
And thou lost, I were better in my grave!
No comfort then — but sorrow. I have now
No father and no mother; for divine
Achilleus slew my father, when he sackt
High-gated Thebe, fair Cilician town.
Eetion he slew there, but stript him not;
Awe was upon him; with his gilded arms
He burned him, piling o'er his bones a mound;
And elms were planted by the Oread nymphs,
Children of Zeus. And brethren I had seven,
All in one day went down into the earth;
Swift-foot Achilleus slew them all,
Mid their slow kine and sheep of silver fleece.
And for the queen my mother, with the spoil
Brought hither, whom for ransom he let go,
Her the divine maid-archer Artemis
Pierced with an arrow in her father's halls.
O Hector, thou to me art mother dear,
And father, brother, husband, all in one!
Have pity, pass not from the walls, I pray,
Nor leave thy child an orphan and thy wife
A widow. Range beside the fig-tree hill
Thy bands, where most the city is scalable,
And on the wall the footing easiest proved.
For by that way their bravest made assault
Thrice, with the two Aiantes, the renowned
Idomeneus, the Atridai and the son
Of Tydeus, whether by a seer advised,
Or by their own heart evermore led on.
And the large white-plumed Hector answering spake:
" All this I know, dear wife, and feel it all.
Yet am I filled with overpowering shame
Of long-robed Trojan women and Trojan men,
If like a dastard from the field I slink.
No, for my soul I cannot. I have learned
Still to go forth amid the first in fight,
Building my father's glory and my own:
Albeit I know well, both in mind and heart,
That the day comes when sacred Troy shall fall,
And Priam and his people and his power.
Yet not the Trojan sorrow of that time,
Nor Hecuba's own sorrow, nor my sire's,
Nor of my brothers, who so many and so brave,
Trod by the feet of foemen, in the dust
Shall then lie mute, can touch my heart so near
As thine, when some one of the Achaian men
Leads thee bereft of freedom, in thy tears,
To Argos; there it may be, at a loom
Not thine to work, or from Messeis' well,
Or Hypereia, to bear pails in grief,
Reluctant much, yet conquered by strong fate.
Then some one may behold thy tears and say: —
" See now, the wife of Hector, first in arms,
Troy's great horse captain in the Ilian siege."
So will he speak, and thou shalt wail anew
For anguish and sore need of one like me
To ward the yoke of thraldom from thy neck.
But let me lie dead in the moulded earth
Ere of thy capture and sad cries I hear! "
He spake, and to the babe reacht forth his arms,
Who to the bosom of his fair-zoned nurse
Clung with a cry, scared at his father's look,
And by the brass helm, and the horse-hair plume
Waving aloft so grimly. And they laught,
Father and mother; and the nodding helm
He in a moment from his head removed
And laid it shining on the earth, then kist
Fondly and dandled in his arms the child,
And called on Zeus and all the gods in prayer: —
" Zeus, and all gods, let this my child become
Famed in the hosts of Troia, even as I,
In strength so good and full of power to reign;
And when he cometh from the fight let me
Say: " A far better than his sire is here!"
And thus with gory spoils let him return
From the slain foe and cheer his mother's heart! "
He spake and in the arms of his dear wife
Laid the fair babe, and to her fragrant breast
She claspt him, smiling thro a mist of tears.
And Hector saw and felt and pitied her,
And with his hand carest her and thus said: —
" Dearest, afflict not overmuch thine heart.
No man at all can send me against fate
To Hades, and his hour can no man fly,
None, good or bad, that ever yet was born.
Go home, and look to thine own business there,
The distaff and the loom, and bid thy maids
Work — of the war shall men take thought, all men
Native in Troy, and I myself the most. "
Thus spake brave Hector, and the crested helm
Took from the ground, and his dear wife past home,
Raining sad tears, and turning oft to look.
Soon to the house she came, and found therein
Her maidens, and stirred sorrow in them all.
So Hector, yet alive, in his own house
They wailed, since no more could they hope in heart
Returning to behold him from the war.
Thro the wide city to the Western gates,
Meaning that way to pass forth to the field.
There running, when he came, behold his wife,
Andromache, the brave Eetion's child,
Ciliciau ruler, who in Thebe dwelt,
Under the woods of Placos. With her came
A maiden, bearing on her breast the child,
Tender of soul, as yet a child in arms,
Hector's one darling, like a lovely star.
He then beholding smiled upon his babe
In silence; but his wife stood weeping by,
And claspt him by the hand and spake and said: —
" Dear one, thine own brave soul shall be thy fate.
Thou hast no pity for thy child or me,
Ere long thy widow, when the Achaian men
Close round thee like a flood and lay thee low —
And thou lost, I were better in my grave!
No comfort then — but sorrow. I have now
No father and no mother; for divine
Achilleus slew my father, when he sackt
High-gated Thebe, fair Cilician town.
Eetion he slew there, but stript him not;
Awe was upon him; with his gilded arms
He burned him, piling o'er his bones a mound;
And elms were planted by the Oread nymphs,
Children of Zeus. And brethren I had seven,
All in one day went down into the earth;
Swift-foot Achilleus slew them all,
Mid their slow kine and sheep of silver fleece.
And for the queen my mother, with the spoil
Brought hither, whom for ransom he let go,
Her the divine maid-archer Artemis
Pierced with an arrow in her father's halls.
O Hector, thou to me art mother dear,
And father, brother, husband, all in one!
Have pity, pass not from the walls, I pray,
Nor leave thy child an orphan and thy wife
A widow. Range beside the fig-tree hill
Thy bands, where most the city is scalable,
And on the wall the footing easiest proved.
For by that way their bravest made assault
Thrice, with the two Aiantes, the renowned
Idomeneus, the Atridai and the son
Of Tydeus, whether by a seer advised,
Or by their own heart evermore led on.
And the large white-plumed Hector answering spake:
" All this I know, dear wife, and feel it all.
Yet am I filled with overpowering shame
Of long-robed Trojan women and Trojan men,
If like a dastard from the field I slink.
No, for my soul I cannot. I have learned
Still to go forth amid the first in fight,
Building my father's glory and my own:
Albeit I know well, both in mind and heart,
That the day comes when sacred Troy shall fall,
And Priam and his people and his power.
Yet not the Trojan sorrow of that time,
Nor Hecuba's own sorrow, nor my sire's,
Nor of my brothers, who so many and so brave,
Trod by the feet of foemen, in the dust
Shall then lie mute, can touch my heart so near
As thine, when some one of the Achaian men
Leads thee bereft of freedom, in thy tears,
To Argos; there it may be, at a loom
Not thine to work, or from Messeis' well,
Or Hypereia, to bear pails in grief,
Reluctant much, yet conquered by strong fate.
Then some one may behold thy tears and say: —
" See now, the wife of Hector, first in arms,
Troy's great horse captain in the Ilian siege."
So will he speak, and thou shalt wail anew
For anguish and sore need of one like me
To ward the yoke of thraldom from thy neck.
But let me lie dead in the moulded earth
Ere of thy capture and sad cries I hear! "
He spake, and to the babe reacht forth his arms,
Who to the bosom of his fair-zoned nurse
Clung with a cry, scared at his father's look,
And by the brass helm, and the horse-hair plume
Waving aloft so grimly. And they laught,
Father and mother; and the nodding helm
He in a moment from his head removed
And laid it shining on the earth, then kist
Fondly and dandled in his arms the child,
And called on Zeus and all the gods in prayer: —
" Zeus, and all gods, let this my child become
Famed in the hosts of Troia, even as I,
In strength so good and full of power to reign;
And when he cometh from the fight let me
Say: " A far better than his sire is here!"
And thus with gory spoils let him return
From the slain foe and cheer his mother's heart! "
He spake and in the arms of his dear wife
Laid the fair babe, and to her fragrant breast
She claspt him, smiling thro a mist of tears.
And Hector saw and felt and pitied her,
And with his hand carest her and thus said: —
" Dearest, afflict not overmuch thine heart.
No man at all can send me against fate
To Hades, and his hour can no man fly,
None, good or bad, that ever yet was born.
Go home, and look to thine own business there,
The distaff and the loom, and bid thy maids
Work — of the war shall men take thought, all men
Native in Troy, and I myself the most. "
Thus spake brave Hector, and the crested helm
Took from the ground, and his dear wife past home,
Raining sad tears, and turning oft to look.
Soon to the house she came, and found therein
Her maidens, and stirred sorrow in them all.
So Hector, yet alive, in his own house
They wailed, since no more could they hope in heart
Returning to behold him from the war.