even the dogs which I myself have reared with food from my
table, to guard my house. They will tear my flesh and drink my blood! It
may well become a _young_ man to lie slain on the field, for he is highly
honored in his death; but when dogs defile an old man's head and beard,
this is the most lamentable thing that befalleth wretched mortals."

And the old man tore his hair in his sore agony; but even he prevailed not
with the soul of Hector. And then his dear mother, Hecuba, took up the
plaint and spake through her piteous tears.

"Hector! my child! have respect to the mother who bare thee and nursed
thee on this bosom! Pity _me_! and fight the foe from this side of the
wall! For if he slay thee, not on a funeral bed shall I, and thy dear
wife, won by so many gifts, deplore thee; but the swift dogs shall devour
thee, far away from us, by the black ships of the Argives."

Thus wailed they over their glorious son, beseeching him; but they could
not prevail, for honor held him fast. Meanwhile, Achilles drew nigh, in
strength like a giant; but Hector awaited him undismayed, leaning his
shield against the tower. And he communed thus with his brave soul: "Alas,
if I go through the gates, Polydamas will justly blame me; for he gave me
good advice--that I should lead the host into the city on that fatal
night, when the noble Achilles returned to the war. And I would not
hearken to him, although he counseled well. And now that I have brought
this evil on the city by my folly, I am ashamed to appear before the men,
and the proud dames with trailing robes, lest some one should taunt me and
say, 'Hector in his pride hath ruined us.' Better then would it be for me
to meet Achilles, and either slay him or fall with glory before the city.
Or how would it be if I should lay aside all my arms, and go to meet the
son of Peleus, and offer to restore Argive Helen and all her possessions
to Menelaus and Agamemnon, and to divide the wealth of Troy with the
Achaians? But no! I might come to him unarmed, but he is merciless, and
would slay me on the spot, as if I were a woman. But why do I hesitate?
This is no time to hold dalliance with him, from oak or rock, like youths
and maidens. Better to fight at once, and see to whom Olympian Zeus will
give the victory!"

While he thus pondered, Achilles, peer of Mars, came on, poising his
terrible spear of Pelian ash; and his divine armor, the work of a god,
blazed like fire or the rising sun. And