Classic Poem

(I LIAD , L IB. VI.)

She rushed to meet him: the nurse following
Bore on her bosom the unsaddened child,
A simple babe, prince Hector's well-loved son,
Like a star shining when the world is dark.
Scamandrius, Hector called him; but the rest
Named him Astyanax, the city's prince,
Because that Hector only had saved Troy.
He, when he saw his son, smiled silently;
While, dropping tears, Andromache pressed on,
And clung to his hand, and spake, and named his name.

" Hector, my best one, — thine own nobleness
Must needs undo thee. Pity hast thou none
For this young child, and this most sad myself,
Who soon shall be thy widow — since that soon
The Greeks will slay thee in the general rush —
And then, for me, what refuge, 'reft of thee ,
But to go graveward? Then, no comfort more
Shall touch me, as in the old sad times thou know'st —
Grief only — grief! I have no father now,
No mother mild! Achilles the divine,
He slew my father, sacked his lofty Thebes,
Cilicia's populous city, and slew its king,
Eition — father! — did not spoil the corse,
Because the Greek revered him in his soul,
But burnt the body with its daedal arms,
And poured the dust out gently. Round that tomb
The Oreads, daughters of the goat-nursed Zeus,
Tripped in a ring, and planted their green elms.
There were seven brothers with me in the house,
Who all went down to Hades in one day, —
For he slew all, Achilles the divine,
Famed for his swift feet, — slain among their herds
Of cloven-footed bulls and flocking sheep!
My mother too, who queened it o'er the woods
Of Hippoplacia, he, with other spoil,
Seized, — and, for golden ransom, freed too late, —
Since, as she went home, arrowy Artemis
Met her and slew her at my father's door.
But — oh my Hector, — thou art still to me
Father and mother! — yes, and brother dear,
O thou, who art my sweetest spouse beside!
Come now, and take me into pity! Stay
I' the town here with us! Do not make thy child
An orphan, nor a widow thy poor wife!
Call up the people to the fig-tree, where
The city is most accessible, the wall
Most easy of assault! — for thrice thereby
The boldest Greeks have mounted to the breach, —
Both Ajaxes, the famed Idomeneus,
Two sons of Atreus, and the noble one
Of Tydeus, — whether taught by some wise seer,
Or by their own souls prompted and inspired."

Great Hector answered: — " Lady, for these things
It is my part to care. And I fear most
My Trojans, and their daughters, and their wives,
Who through their long veils would glance scorn at me
If, coward-like, I shunned the open war.
Nor doth my own soul prompt me to that end!
I learnt to be a brave man constantly,
And to fight foremost where my Trojans fight,
And vindicate my father's glory and mine —
Because I know, by instinct and my soul,
The day comes that our sacred Troy must fall,
And Priam and his people. Knowing which,
I have no such grief for all my Trojans' sake,
For Hecuba's, for Priam's, our old king,
Not for my brothers', who so many and brave
Shall bite the dust before our enemies, —
As, sweet for thee! — to think some mailed Greek
Shall lead thee weeping and deprive thy life
Of the free sun-sight — that, when gone away
To Argos, thou shalt throw the distaff there,
Not for thy uses — or shalt carry instead
Upon thy loathing brow, aSheavy as doom,
The water of Greek wells — Messeis' own,
Or Hyperea's! — that some stander-by,
Marking my tears fall, shall say, " This is She,
The wife of that same Hector who fought best
Of all the Trojans, when all fought for Troy " —
Ay! — and, so speaking, shall renew thy pang
That, 'reft of Him so named, thou shouldst survive
To a slave's life! But earth shall hide my corse
Ere that shriek sound, wherewith thou art dragged from Troy."

ThuShector spake, and stretched his arms to his child.
Against the nurse's breast, with childly cry,
The boy clung back, and shunned his father's face,
And feared the glittering brass and waving hair
Of the high helmet, nodding horror down.
The father smiled, the mother could not choose
But smile too. Then he lifted from his brow
The helm, and set it on the ground to shine:
Then, kissed his dear child — raised him with both arms,
And thus invoked Zeus and the general gods: —

" Zeus, and all godships! grant this boy of mine
To be the Trojans' help, as I myself, —
To live a brave life and rule well in Troy!
Till men shall say, " The son exceeds the sire
By a far glory. " Let him bring home spoil
Heroic, and make glad his mother'Sheart."

With which prayer, to his wife's extended arms
He gave the child; and she received him straight
To her bosom's fragrance — smiling up her tears.
Hector gazed on her till his soul was moved;
Then softly touched her with his hand and spake.
" My best one — 'ware of passion and excess
In any fear. There 's no man in the world
Can send me to the grave apart from fate, —
And no man . . . Sweet, I tell thee . . . can fly fate —
No good nor bad man. Doom is self-fulfilled.
But now, go home, and ply thy woman's task
Of wheel and distaff! bid thy maidens haste
Their occupation. War 's a care for men —
For all men born in Troy, and chief for me."
Thus spake the noble Hector, and resumed
His crested helmet, while his spouse went home;
But as she went, still looked back lovingly,
Dropping the tears from her reverted face.