Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/397

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267—315
BOOK XXII
395

And great Achilles, lest some Greek's advance
Should snatch the glory from his lifted lance,
Signed to the troops, to yield his foe the way,
And leave untouched the honours of the day.
Jove lifts the golden balances, that show
The fates of mortal men, and things below:
Here each contending hero's lot he tries,
And weighs, with equal hand, their destinies.
Low sinks the scale surcharged with Hector's fate;
Heavy with death it sinks, and hell receives the weight.
Then Phœbus left him. Fierce Minerva flies
To stern Pelides, and, triumphing, cries:
"O loved of Jove! this day our labours cease,
And conquest blazes with full beams on Greece.
Great Hector falls; that Hector famed so far,
Drunk with renown, Insatiable of war,
Falls by thy hand, and mine! nor force nor flight
Shall more avail him, nor his god of light.
See, where In vain he supplicates above.
Rolled at the feet of unrelenting Jove!
Rest here: myself will lead the Trojan on,
And urge to meet the fate he cannot shun."
Her voice divine the chief with joyful mind
Obeyed, and rested, on his lance reclined.
While like Deiphobus the martial dame,
Her face, her gesture, and her arms, the same,
In show an aid, by hapless Hector's side
Approached, and greets him thus with voice belied:
"Too long, O Hector I have I borne the sight
Of this distress, and sorrowed in thy flight:
It fits us now a noble stand to make,
And here, as brothers, equal fates partake."
Then he: "O prince I allied in blood and fame,
Dearer than all that own a brother's name;
Of all that Hecuba to Priam bore,
Long tried, long loved; much loved, but honoured more!
Since you of all our numerous race alone
Defend my life, regardless of your own."
Again the goddess: "Much my father's prayer,
And much my mother's, pressed me to forbear:
My friends embraced my knees, adjured my stay,
But stronger love impelled, and I obey.
Gome then, the glorious conflict let us try,
Let the steel sparkle and the javelin fly;
Or let us stretch Achilles on the field,
Or to his arm our bloody trophies yield."
Fraudful she said; then swiftly marched before;
The Dardan hero shuns his foe no more.

Sternly they met. The silence Hector broke;