Book XXII

.

So died the great champion of the Trojans. The Greeks crowded around the dead hero, admiring his stature and beautiful figure, and remarking one to another that Hector was far less dangerous to touch now than when he was setting fire to their fleet.

But the anger of Achilles was not appeased even by the death of his foe. Eager for still more vengeance, he bound the feet of the dead hero with leather thongs to the back of his chariot, leaving the head to trail along the ground, and thus he drove to the ships, dragging the noble Hector in the dust.

The Trojans, beholding this dreadful spectacle from the walls of the city, broke out into loud lamentations, and King Priam and Queen Hecuba were almost distracted with grief. Andromache had not been a witness of the combat. She was at home with her maids, making preparations for Hector's return from the battle, and was therefore unaware of the terrible events which had taken place. But the sound of the wailing on the ramparts having reached her ears, she rushed forth from the palace, fearful that some evil had happened to her husband. Hastening through the streets to the Scæan Gate, she ascended the tower, and looking out on the plain, saw the body of her beloved Hector dragged behind the wheels of the chariot of Achilles. Overpowered with grief at the sight, the unhappy woman sank fainting into the arms of her attendants.

A sudden darkness shades her swimming eyes: She faints, she falls; her breath, her color flies. Her hair's fair ornaments, the braids that bound, The net that held them, and the wreath that crown'd, The veil and diadem flew far away (The gift of Venus on her bridal day). Around a train of weeping sisters stands To raise her sinking with assistant hands.

POPE, _Iliad_,