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his sword, which hung long, sharp and heavy Down at his side; and when he had braced him, he charged, as an eagle Swoops from the heights of its flight to the plain through the black clouds of heaven After a tender lamb, or to pounce on a hare as it crouches: So charged Hector, and shook his sharp sword above him. Achilles Rushed on to meet him; his heart was filled with passion and anger, And he was holding his shield in front, so finely embellished, So as to cover his breast; his four-plated, glittering helmet Swayed with his head, and the beautiful plumes were dancing around it. As when the evening star comes out with the others at nightfall, Loveliest star of the sky, so glinted his keen-edged sword-blade, Which, wishing evil for glorious Hector, Achilles was shaking High in his right hand, as he scanned the fair body of Hector, So as to see where he best might yield; it was covered entirely By Patroclus’ fine bronze arms, which he took when he killed him – All but the single spot where the collar-bones, sprung from the shoulder, Join the neck, and the throat, where the end of life comes swiftest. Here, then, as Hector charged, with his spear aimed godlike Achilles: Right through the tender flesh went the point, but the heavily brazen Spear did not cut his windpipe, and so he could answer Achilles, Speaking with words: he bit the dust: and godlike Achilles Triumphed: ‘Hector,’ he said, ‘no doubt as you stripped Patroclus, Thinking not of me in the distance, you said you’d be safe. You Fool! For far away a far stronger helper was waiting – I was left behind by the hollow ships; now I've brought you Down in the dust, and the dogs and the birds of prey will maul you Foully; but we will bury Patroclus with funeral honours. Then with a failing heart spoke glittering-helmeted Hector: ‘Please, by your life, by your knees, by your parents, I pray and beseech you, Don’t allow the dogs to devour me beside the Acheans’ Ships, but instead receive silver and gold in abundance, Which my father and lady mother will give you: my body Give to be taken back to my home, that the Trojans may grant me, And the Trojans’ wives, the right to be burnt when departed.’ Looking askance at him, then spoke swift-footed Achilles: ‘Knee me no knees, you dog, and entreat me not by my parents, For, if I had the strength and the will, I should cut your flesh off – Such are the deeds you have done me – and eat you raw. As I cannot, No one will keep the dogs from your head – not even if ten or Twenty times numberless ransoms were brought and left here; not even Further pledges would help, not if Dardanian Priam Tells them to pay your weight in gold, shall your lady mother Lay you upon a bier, and weep for the son she bore, but Dogs and birds of prey will come and devour you completely.’ Then at the point of death spoke glittering-helmeted Hector: ‘Now I know you for what you are; I should never have moved you. You have a heart of iron within you; but be very careful: This deed might be the cause of wrath to the gods on the day when Noble though you are, both Paris and Phoebus Apollo At the Scaean gates will kill you …’ But as he was speaking, Death put an end to his words, and his soul flew away from his body, Mourning its fate and the youthful manhood it left, bound for Hades. Then, even though he was dead, replied the godlike Achilles: ‘Lie dead; and as for me, I will accept my fate when Zeus and the other immortals decide to stop my existence.’ Homer, Iliad, book 22, lines 306–66
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