“It was just the time when first slumber comes to heal human suffering, stealing on men by heaven’s blessing 15 with balmiest influence. Lo! as I slept, before my eyes Hector,[131] in deepest sorrow, seemed to be standing by me, shedding rivers of tears—mangled from dragging at the car, as I remember him of old, and black with gory dust, and with his swollen feet bored by the thong. Ay me! 20 what a sight was there! what a change from that Hector of ours, who comes back to us clad in the spoils of Achilles, or from hurling Phrygian fire on Danaan vessels! with stiffened beard and hair matted with blood, and those wounds fresh about him, which fell on him so thickly 25 round his country’s walls. Methought I addressed him first with tears like his own, fetching from my breast the accents of sorrow—‘O light of Dardan land, surest hope that Trojans ever had! What delay has kept you so long? From what clime is the Hector of our longings returned 30 to us at last? O the eyes with which, after long months of death among your people, months of manifold suffering to Troy and her sons, spent and weary, we look upon you now! What unworthy cause has marred the clear beauty of those features, or why do I behold these wounds?’ 35 He answers nought, and gives no idle heed to my vain inquiries, but with a deep sigh, heaved from the bottom of his heart—‘Ah! fly, goddess-born!’ cries he, ‘and escape from these flames—the walls are in the enemy’s hand—Troy is tumbling from its summit—the claims of country and king are satisfied—if Pergamus could be defended by force of hand, it would have been defended by mine, in my day. Your country’s worship and her 5 gods are what she entrusts to you now—take them to share your destiny—seek for them a mighty city, which you shall one day build when you have wandered the ocean over.’ With these words he brings out Queen Vesta[132] with her fillets and the ever-burning fire from the secret 10 shrine.