The people perish at our lofty walls; 400
The flames of war have compass’d Troy around
And thou hast kindled them; who yet thyself
That slackness show’st which in another seen
Thou would’st resent to death.  Haste, seek the field
This moment, lest, the next, all Ilium blaze. 405
To whom thus Paris, graceful as a God. 
Since, Hector, thou hast charged me with a fault,
And not unjustly, I will answer make,
And give thou special heed.  That here I sit,
The cause is sorrow, which I wish’d to soothe 410
In secret, not displeasure or revenge. 
I tell thee also, that even now my wife
Was urgent with me in most soothing terms
That I would forth to battle; and myself,
Aware that victory oft changes sides, 415
That course prefer.  Wait, therefore, thou awhile,
’Till I shall dress me for the fight, or go
Thou first, and I will overtake thee soon. 
He ceased, to whom brave Hector answer none
Return’d, when Helen him with lenient speech 420
Accosted mild.[25] My brother! who in me
Hast found a sister worthy of thy hate,
Authoress of all calamity to Troy,
Oh that the winds, the day when I was born,
Had swept me out of sight, whirl’d me aloft 425
To some inhospitable mountain-top,
Or plunged me in the deep; there I had sunk
O’erwhelm’d, and all these ills had never been. 
But since the Gods would bring these ills to pass,
I should, at least, some worthier mate have chosen, 430
One not insensible to public shame. 
But this, oh this, nor hath nor will acquire
Hereafter, aught which like discretion shows
Or reason, and shall find his just reward. 
But enter; take this seat; for who as thou 435
Labors, or who hath cause like thee to rue
The crime, my brother, for which Heaven hath doom’d
Both Paris and my most detested self
To be the burthens of an endless song? 
To whom the warlike Hector huge[26] replied. 440
Me bid not, Helen, to a seat, howe’er
Thou wish my stay, for thou must not prevail. 
The Trojans miss me, and myself no less
Am anxious to return.  But urge in haste
This loiterer forth; yea, let him urge himself 445
To overtake me ere I quit the town. 
For I must home in haste, that I may see
My loved Andromache, my infant boy,
And my domestics, ignorant if e’er
I shall behold them more, or if my fate 450
Ordain me now to fall by Grecian hands. 
So spake the dauntless hero, and withdrew. 
But reaching soon his own well-built abode
He found not fair Andromache; she stood
Lamenting Hector, with the nurse who bore 455
Her infant, on a turret’s top sublime. 
He then, not finding his chaste spouse within,
Thus from the portal, of her train inquired.