He hurled his lance with tremendous force and did not miss the mark, for the point struck the boss of the shield with a loud crash and would have pierced both shield and breast had the shield not been forged by Vulcan himself. But the lance rebounded like a ball thrown against a wall and Hector stood confounded, for he had but one spear. He quickly looked about for Deïphobus and called loudly for another spear, but there was no answer and his brother was nowhere to be seen. Then he was filled with foreboding. “Woe is me!” he cried. “Some cunning god in Deïphobus’ shape hath deceived me, and now, when I hoped he would save me, he has disappeared.” In desperation he seized his sword, rushing forward like a soaring eagle swooping down upon its prey. But Achilles had already picked up Hector’s spear, and, as they charged each other, the long spear reached its goal sooner than the short sword. Taken in the neck above his breastplate, the hope of Troy sank into the dust, while the cruel victor and all the Achaians loudly rejoiced. “Ha!” cried Achilles as he drew forth his spear, “only yesterday thou wert so proudly triumphant, as thou didst invade our ships in Patroclus’ stolen harness, and to-day thou liest powerless before the walls of thy proud fortress. Surely thou didst little dream that the slain hero had left a powerful avenger. We shall pay him all the honors of a hero, while thou shalt make a shameful end among the dogs and birds of prey.” Breathing painfully, Hector tried to speak. “I conjure thee by thy life and by thy parents, let me not be torn by Damæan dogs, but accept the bronze and valuable gold which my father and mother shall offer thee. Send my body to Ilios, that the men and women of Troy may pay me the last honors of the funeral pyre.” But Achilles shouted: “Silence and die, contemptible one!” Dying, Hector answered: “Indeed I knew I should not move thee, for thou hast an iron heart. But think of me when the gods avenge me and thou sinkest into the dust felled by the shots of Phœbus Apollo.” And Death, the brother of Sleep, bore the hero’s soul down to Hades. Many warriors from the Greek army came up and looked with admiration upon the splendid form of the hero. And to one another they said: “It is wonderful how much gentler he is to look on now than there at our ships when he was leading the assault.” Achilles arose among the people and spoke. “Friends, now that the gods have permitted me to subdue the man who has done us greater injury than any other, let us discover whether the Trojans will dare withstand us, without the support of their great hero. But what am I saying? My friend lies still unburied. Therefore let us chant the hymn of victory and take Hector with us as an expiatory offering for my friend.”