And when his dear mother, Hecuba, saw her much-loved son dragged along, begrimed with dust, she tore her hair, and shrieked aloud, and tossed far away her glistening veil.  And his father, King Priam, wailed and mourned; and with him all the men and women in the city, as if the beetling towers of Ilium were already smouldering in fire.  Hardly could they keep the aged father from rushing through the gates; for he threw himself in the dust and supplicated each man by name:  “O friend, forbear! and if you love me, let me go to the ships of the Achaians, and pray to this arrogant, this fearful man!” Thus wailed old Priam; and the men wailed with him.  And Queen Hecuba led the loud lamentations of the women.  “Why,” she cried, “should I yet live, when thou, my son, my boast, my glory, art dead? the pride and blessing of all, both men and women of the city, who honored thee as a god; for in thy life thou wert an honor to them all!” Thus mourned his unhappy mother.

But to his wife, the noble, beautiful, tender-hearted Andromache, no messenger had brought the fearful tidings that Hector had remained without the gates.  All unconscious, she was sitting in the inner chamber of her lofty palace, weaving a purple web of double woof, and embroidering it with many flowers.  And she was ordering her handmaids to prepare a warm bath for her dear husband, when he should return from the battle; poor child! little knowing that the fierce-eyed Athene had treacherously slain him, by the hand of Achilles!  But when she heard shrieks and lamentations from the walls, she reeled, and the shuttle dropped from her hands.  And she spake again to her fair-haired maidens:  “Surely, that was the cry of Hector’s noble mother!  Some terrible thing must have befallen my godlike husband!  Come, then, follow me, that I may learn what has happened; I greatly fear that he has been cut off from the city by Achilles; for he would never retreat among the throng, or yield to any man, in his high courage.”

And she rushed, all frantic, through the house, followed by her maidens, and came to the walls, and saw Hector dragged through the dust, towards the black ships of the Achaians.  Then darkness shrouded her fair eyes, and she fell backwards in a swoon.  And when roused, she tore from her head the net, the fillet, and the nuptial veil which golden Venus had given her, when noble Hector of the shining helm led her forth, from King Eetion’s palace, as his bride.  And the sisters-in-law of her dear husband gathered round her, and raised her from the ground, all distracted as she was and nigh unto death.  When she had recovered from her swoon, she sobbed and wailed, crying, “O Hector! to the same evil fate were we twain born, thou in Troy, and I in Thebes, where my great father, Eetion, reared me as a little child.  Would that I had never been born, since thou leavest me a hapless widow!  And our son, thine and mine, ill-fated one! is but a little child; and thou canst