r greater is he than his father,' and may he gladden his
mother's heart."

Then did Hector lay his babe in Andromache's arms, and she held him to
her bosom, smiling through her tears.

Full of love and pity and tenderness was the heart of Hector, and
gently he caressed her and said:

"Dear one, I pray thee be not of over-sorrowful heart. No man shall
slay me ere the time appointed for my death hath come. Go home and
busy thyself with loom and distaff and see to the work of thy maidens.
But war is for us men, and of all those who dwell in Troyland, most of
all for me."

So spake Hector, and on his head again he placed his crested helmet.
And his wife went home, many times looking back to watch him she loved
going forth to battle, with her eyes half blinded by her tears.

Not far behind Hector followed Paris, his armor glittering like the
sun, and with a laugh on the face that was more full of beauty than
that of any other man on earth. Like a noble charger that has broken
its bonds and gallops exultingly across the plain, so did Paris stride
onward.

"I fear I have delayed thee," he said to his brother when he overtook
him.

"No man can speak lightly of thy courage," answered Hector, "only thou
hast brought shame on thyself by holding back from battle. But now let
us go forward, and may the gods give the Greeks into our hands."

So went Hector and Paris together into battle, and many a Greek fell
before them on that day.

V

HOW PATROCLUS FOUGHT AND DIED

While round the dark ships of Greece the fierce fight raged, Achilles,
from afar, listened unmoved to the din of battle, and watched with
stony eyes the men of Greece as they fell and died on the reddened
ground.

To him came Patroclus.

"Why dost thou weep, Patroclus?" asked Achilles. "Like a fond little
maid art thou that runs by her mother's side, plucking at her gown,
hindering her as she walks, and with tearful eyes looking up at her
until the mother lifts her in her arms. Like her, Patroclus, dost thou
softly weep."

Then Patroclus, heavily groaning, made answer:

"Among the ships lie the bravest and best of the men of Greece, sore
wounded or dead. Pitiless art thou, Achilles, pitiless and
unforgiving. Yet if thou dost still hold back from the battle, give
me, I pray thee, thine armor, and send me forth in thy stead.
Perchance the Trojans may take me for the mighty Achilles, and even
now the victory be ours."

Then said Achilles, an