The Iliad of Homer · Homer
BOOK XXII.
Far be such tidings from me! but I fear Horribly, lest Achilles, cutting off My dauntless Hector from the gates alone, Enforce him to the field, and quell perhaps530 The might, this moment, of that dreadful arm His hinderance long; for Hector ne’er was wont To seek his safety in the ranks, but flew First into battle, yielding place to none. So saying, she rush’d with palpitating heart535 And frantic air abroad, by her two maids Attended; soon arriving at the tower, And at the throng of men, awhile she stood Down-looking wistful from the city-wall, And, seeing him in front of Ilium, dragg’d540 So cruelly toward the fleet of Greece, O’erwhelm’d with sudden darkness at the view Fell backward, with a sigh heard all around. Far distant flew dispersed her head-attire, Twist, frontlet, diadem, and even the veil545 By golden Venus given her on the day When Hector led her from Eëtion’s house Enrich’d with nuptial presents to his home. Around her throng’d her sisters of the house Of Priam, numerous, who within their arms550 Fast held her[16] loathing life; but she, her breath At length and sense recovering, her complaint Broken with sighs amid them thus began. Hector!
I am undone; we both were born To misery, thou in Priam’s house in Troy,555 And I in Hypoplacian Thebes wood-crown’d Beneath Eëtion’s roof. He, doom’d himself To sorrow, me more sorrowfully doom’d, Sustain’d in helpless infancy, whom oh That he had ne’er begotten! thou descend’st560 To Pluto’s subterraneous dwelling drear, Leaving myself destitute, and thy boy, Fruit of our hapless loves, an infant yet, Never to be hereafter thy delight, Nor love of thine to share or kindness more.565 For should he safe survive this cruel war, With the Achaians penury and toil Must be his lot, since strangers will remove At will his landmarks, and possess his fields. Thee lost, he loses all, of father, both,570 And equal playmate in one day deprived, To sad looks doom’d, and never-ceasing-tears. He seeks, necessitous his father’s friends, One by his mantle pulls, one by his vest, Whose utmost pity yields to his parch’d lips575 A thirst-provoking drop, and grudges more; Some happier child, as yet untaught to mourn A parent’s loss, shoves rudely from the board My son, and, smiting him, reproachful cries— Away—thy father is no guest of ours—580 Then, weeping, to his widow’d mother comes Astyanax, who on his father’s lap Ate marrow only, once, and fat of lambs,[17] And when sleep took him, and his crying fit Had ceased, slept ever on the softest bed,585 Warm in his nurse’s arms, fed to his fill With delicacies, and his heart at rest. But now, Astyanax (so named in Troy For thy sake, guardian of her gates and towers) His father lost, must many a pang endure.590 And as for thee, cast naked forth among Yon galleys, where no parent’s eye of thine Shall find thee, when the dogs have torn thee once Till they are sated, worms shall eat thee next. Meantime, thy graceful raiment rich, prepared595 By our own maidens, in thy palace lies; But I will burn it, burn it all, because Useless to thee, who never, so adorn’d, Shalt slumber more; yet every eye in Troy Shall see, how glorious once was thy attire.[18]600 So, weeping, she; to whom the multitude Of Trojan dames responsive sigh’d around. The body of Patroclus is burned, and the funeral games ensue.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.