575
His dazzling helmet, placed it on the ground,
Then kiss’d his boy and dandled him, and thus
In earnest prayer the heavenly powers implored. 
Hear all ye Gods! as ye have given to me,
So also on my son excelling might 580
Bestow, with chief authority in Troy. 
And be his record this, in time to come,
When he returns from battle.  Lo! how far
The son excels the sire!  May every foe
Fall under him, and he come laden home 585
With spoils blood-stain’d to his dear mother’s joy. 
He said, and gave his infant to the arms
Of his Andromache, who him received
Into her fragrant bosom, bitter tears
With sweet smiles mingling; he with pity moved 590
That sight observed, soft touch’d her cheek, and said,
Mourn not, my loved Andromache, for me
Too much; no man shall send me to the shades
Of Tartarus, ere mine allotted hour,
Nor lives he who can overpass the date 595
By heaven assign’d him, be he base or brave.[33]
Go then, and occupy content at home
The woman’s province; ply the distaff, spin
And weave, and task thy maidens.  War belongs
To man; to all men; and of all who first 600
Drew vital breath in Ilium, most to me.[34]
He ceased, and from the ground his helmet raised
Hair-crested; his Andromache, at once
Obedient, to her home repair’d, but oft
Turn’d as she went, and, turning, wept afresh. 605
No sooner at the palace she arrived
Of havoc-spreading Hector, than among
Her numerous maidens found within, she raised
A general lamentation; with one voice,
In his own house, his whole domestic train 610
Mourn’d Hector, yet alive; for none the hope
Conceived of his escape from Grecian hands,
Or to behold their living master more. 
Nor Paris in his stately mansion long
Delay’d, but, arm’d resplendent, traversed swift 615
The city, all alacrity and joy. 
As some stall’d horse high-fed, his stable-cord
Snapt short, beats under foot the sounding plain,
Accustomed in smooth-sliding streams to lave
Exulting; high he bears his head, his mane 620
Undulates o’er his shoulders, pleased he eyes
His glossy sides, and borne on pliant knees
Shoots to the meadow where his fellows graze;
So Paris, son of Priam, from the heights
Of Pergamus into the streets of Troy, 625
All dazzling as the sun, descended, flush’d
With martial pride, and bounding in his course. 
At once he came where noble Hector stood
Now turning, after conference with his spouse,
When godlike Alexander thus began. 630
My hero brother, thou hast surely found
My long delay most irksome.  More dispatch
Had pleased thee more, for such was thy command.