But Hector went his way to the fair palace of Paris, and found him in his chamber, polishing his beautiful armor, and proving his curved bow.  Then, when Hector saw him, he reproached him with bitter words.  “O thou strange man! thou dost not well to nurse thy spite against the Trojans, who are now perishing before the city, and all for thy sake!  Rise, then, now, lest the city be burned with fire!”

And the goodly Paris answered, “It is not so much by reason of my wrath against the Trojans, but I would fain indulge my sorrow.  My wife, too, hath urged me to the battle.  Tarry then awhile, and I will don my armor; or go thou before, and I will follow.”

Then the divine Helen, daughter of great Zeus, came and spoke gently to Hector, and said, “O brother! brother of vile me, who am a dog—­would that, when my mother bare me, the storm-wind had snatched me away to a mountain, or a billow of the loud-roaring sea had swept me away, before all these evil things had befallen me!  Would that I had been mated with a better man than Paris, whose heart is not sound, and never will be.  But come, my brother, and sit by me; for thou verily hast suffered most for me, who am a dog, and for the grievous sin of Paris, upon whom, surely, Zeus is bringing evil days; he will be, hereafter, a song of scorn in the mouths of future men, through all time to come.”

But noble Hector answered her, “If thou lovest me, dear Helen, bid me not stay; for I go to succor my friends, who long for me in my absence.  But do thou try and rouse this husband of thine, and bid him overtake me.  As for me, I shall first go to my home, and to my wife and my little son; for who knoweth whether I shall ever return to them again?”

So spake the glorious Hector, and went his way to his own well-furnished house; but he found not Andromache there; for she had gone to the tower, with her fair-robed nurse and with her boy, all bathed in tears.  Hector asked the servants whither the white-armed Andromache was gone; and the busy matron of the house replied, “She is gone to the tower of holy Troy; for she heard that the Trojans were defeated, and the Achaians victorious.”  Then Hector returned, by the same way, down the wide streets, and came to the Scaean Gate.

And his peerless wife, even Andromache, daughter of the high-minded Eetion, king of Cilicia—­she whom he had won by countless gifts—­came running to meet him.  And with her came the handmaid, the nurse, bearing in her arms Hector’s tender boy, Astyanax, beautiful as the morning star.  And Hector smiled, and looked on his darling boy, while Andromache stood beside him weeping.  And she clasped his hand, and called him by his name.  “O my dear lord, thy dauntless courage will destroy thee!  Hast thou no pity for thy infant child, and for thy hapless wife, who soon will be a widow?  It were far better for me to die, if I lose thee; for nevermore can I know comfort, but only pain and