Mythology, Greek -- Juvenile literature; Mythology, Roman -- Juvenile literature
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.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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