For there the wall is easiest scaled, and fittest for surprise,
And there, th' Ajaces, Idomen, th' Atrides, Diomed, thrice
Have both surveyed and made attempt; I know not if induced
By some wise augury, or the fact was naturally infused
Into their wits, or courages." To this, great Hector said:
"Be well assured, wife, all these things in my kind cares are weighed.
But what a shame, and fear, it is to think how Troy would scorn
(Both in her husbands, and her wives, whom long-trained gowns adorn)
That I should cowardly fly off! The spirit I first did breath
Did never teach me that; much less, since the contempt of death
Was settled in me, and my mind knew what a worthy was,
Whose office is to lead in fight, and give no danger pass
Without improvement. In this fire must Hector's trial shine;
Here must my country, father, friends, be, in him, made divine.
And such a stormy day shall come (in mind and soul I know)
When sacred Troy shall shed her towers, for tears of overthrow;
When Priam, all his birth and power, shall in those tears be drowned.
But neither Troy's posterity so much my soul doth wound,
Priam, nor Hecuba herself, nor all my brothers' woes
(Who though so many, and so good, must all be food for foes)
As thy sad state; when some rude Greek shall lead thee weeping hence,
These free days clouded, and a night of captive violence
Loading thy temples, out of which thine eyes must never see,
But spin the Greek wives' webs of task, and their fetch-water be
To Argos, from Messeides, or clear Hyperia's spring;
Which howsoever thou abhorr'st, Fate's such a shrewish thing
She will be mistress; whose cursed hands, when they shall crush out
cries
From thy oppressions (being beheld by other enemies)
Thus they will nourish thy extremes: 'This dame was Hector's wife,
A man that, at the wars of Troy, did breathe the worthiest life
Of all their army.' This again will rub thy fruitful wounds,
To miss the man that to thy bands could give such narrow bounds.
But that day shall not wound mine eyes; the solid heap of night
Shall interpose, and stop mine ears against thy plaints, and plight."
This said, he reached to take his son; who, of his arms afraid,
And then the horsehair plume, with which he was so overlaid,
Nodded so horribly, he clinged back to his nurse, and cried.
Laughter affected his great sire, who doffed, and laid aside
His fearful helm, that on the earth cast round about it light;
Then took and kissed his loving son, and (balancing his weight
In dancing him) these loving vows to living Jove he used,
And all the other bench of Gods: "O you that have infused
Soul to this infant, now set down this blessing on his star;
Let his renown be clear as mine; equal his strength in war;
And make his reign so strong in Troy, that years to come may yield
His facts this fame, when, rich in spoils, he leaves the conquered field
Sown with his slaughters: These high deeds exceed his father's
worth.'
And let this echoed praise supply the comforts to come forth
Of his kind mother with my life." This said, th' heroic sire
Gave him his mother; whose fair eyes fresh streams of love's salt fire
Billowed on her soft cheeks, to hear the last of Hector's speech,
In which his vows comprised the sum of all he did beseech
In her wished comfort. So she took into her od'rous breast
Her husband's gift; who, moved to see her heart so much oppressed,
He dried her tears, and thus desired: "Afflict me not, dear wife,
With these vain griefs. He doth not live, that can disjoin my life
And this firm bosom, but my fate; and fate, whose wings can fly?
Noble, ignoble, fate controls. Once born, the best must die.
Go home, and set thy housewif'ry on these extremes of thought;
And drive war from them with thy maids; keep them from doing
naught.
These will be nothing; leave the cares of war to men, and me
In whom, of all the Ilion race, they take their high'st degree."
On went his helm; his princess home, half cold with kindly fears;
When ev'ry fear turned back her looks, and ev'ry look shed tears.
Foe-slaught'ring Hector's house soon reached, her many women there
Wept all to see her: in his life great Hector's fun'rals were;
Never looked any eye of theirs to see their lord safe home,
'Scaped from the gripes and powers of Greece. And now was Paris
From his high towers; who made no stay, when once he had put on
His richest armor, but flew forth; the flints he trod upon
Sparkled with luster of his arms; his long-ebbed spirits now flowed
The higher for their lower ebb. And as a fair steed, proud
With full-given mangers, long tied up, and now, his head stall broke,
He breaks from stable, runs the field, and with an ample stroke
Measures the center, neighs, and lifts aloft his wanton head,
About his shoulders shakes his crest, and where he hath been fed,
Or in some calm flood washed, or, stung with his high plight, he flies
Amongst his females, strength put forth, his beauty beautifies,
And, like life's mirror, bears his gait; so Paris from the tower
Of lofty Pergamus came forth; he showed a sunlike power
In carriage of his goodly parts, addressed now to the strife;
And found his noble brother near the place he left his wife.
Him thus respected he salutes: "Right worthy, I have fear
That your so serious haste to field, my stay hath made forbear,
And that I come not as you wish." He answered: "Honored man,
Be confident, for not myself nor any others, can
From the painting by George Romney, in the Boydell Gallery
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