The offer of so great a friend, exchang’d in that good pride, Curets of gold for those of brass, that did on Diomed shine, One of a hundred oxen’s price, the other but of nine. By this, had Hector reach’d the ports of Scæa, and the tow’rs. About him flock’d the wives of Troy, the children, paramours, Inquiring how their husbands did, their fathers, brothers, loves. He stood not then to answer them, but said: “It now behoves Ye should all go t’ implore the aid of heav’n, in a distress Of great effect, and imminent.” Then hasted he access To Priam’s goodly builded court, which round about was run With walking porches, galleries, to keep off rain and sun. Within, of one side, on a rew, of sundry-colour’d stones, Fifty fair lodgings were built out, for Priam’s fifty sons, And for as fair sort of their wives; and, in the opposite view, Twelve lodgings of like stone, like height, were likewise built arew, Where, with their fair and virtuous wives, twelve princes, sons in law To honourable Priam, lay. And here met Hecuba, The loving mother, her great son; and with her needs must be The fairest of her female race, the bright Laodice. The queen gript hard her Hector’s hand, and said: “O worthiest son, Why leav’st thou field? Is’t not because the curséd nation Afflict our countrymen and friends? They are their moans that move Thy mind to come and lift thy hands, in his high tow’r, to Jove. But stay a little, that myself may fetch our sweetest wine To offer first to Jupiter, then that these joints of thine May be refresh’d; for, woe is me, how thou art toil’d and spent! Thou for our city’s gen’ral state, thou for our friends far sent, Must now the press of fight endure; now solitude, to call Upon the name of Jupiter; thou only for us all. But wine will something comfort thee; for to a man dismay’d With careful spirits, or too much with labour overlaid, Wine brings much rescue, strength’ning much the body and the mind.” The great helm-mover thus receiv’d the auth’ress of his kind: “My royal mother, bring no wine; lest rather it impair Than help my strength, and make my mind forgetful of th’ affair Committed to it; and (to pour it out in sacrifice) I fear with unwash’d hands to serve the pure-liv’d Deities. Nor is it lawful, thus imbru’d with blood and dust, to prove The will of heav’n, or offer vows to cloud-compelling Jove. I only come to use your pains (assembling other dames, Matrons, and women honour’d most, with high and virtuous names) With wine and odours, and a robe most ample, most of price, And which is dearest in your love, to offer sacrifice In Pallas’ temple; and to put the precious robe ye bear. On her Palladium; vowing all, twelve oxen-of-a-year, Whose necks were never wrung with yoke, shall pay her grace their lives, If she will pity our sieg’d town; pity ourselves, our wives; Pity our children; and remove, from sacred Ilion, The dreadful soldier Diomed. And, when yourselves are gone About this work, myself will go, to call into the field,