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Who have uplifted him above his mates.
By my own course of conquest have I learned
That mighty kings can straightway come to naught.
Should Troy o'erthrown exalt us overmuch?
Behold, we stand today whence she has fallen. 265
I own that in the past too haughtily
Have I my sway o'er fallen chieftains borne;
But thought of fortune's gift has checked my pride,
Since she unto another might have given
These selfsame gifts. O fallen king of Troy,
Thou mak'st me proud of conquest over thee,
Thou mak'st me fear that I may share thy fate. 270
Why should I count the scepter anything
But empty honor and a tinsel show?
This scepter one short hour can take away,
Without the aid, perchance, of countless ships
And ten long years of war. The steps of fate
Do not for all advance with pace so slow. 275
For me, I will confess ('tis with thy grace,
O land of Greece, I speak) I have desired
To see the pride and power of Troy brought low;
But that her walls and homes should be o'erthrown
In utter ruin have I never wished.
But a wrathful foe, by greedy passion driven,
And heated by the glow of victory,
Within the shrouding darkness of the night, 280
Cannot be held in check. If any act
Upon that fatal night unworthy seemed
Or cruel, 'twas the deed of heedless wrath,
And darkness which is ever fury's spur,
And the victorious sword, whose lust for blood,
When once in blood imbued, is limitless.
Since Troy has lost her all, seek not to grasp 285
The last poor fragments that remain. Enough,
And more has she endured of punishment.
But that a maid of royal birth should fall
An offering upon Achilles' tomb,
Bedewing his harsh ashes with her blood,
While that foul murder gains the honored name