History Text Analysis

[243–254]  But when Hector came to Priam's palace, built with splendid porches, and which had in it fifty chambers lined with polished stone built near one another, where Priam's sons and their wives rested, and where, on the other side of the courtyard in twelve magnificent chambers also lined with polished marble, the sons-in-law of Priam lay beside his spotless daughters.  There his mother queen accompanied by Laodice, loveliest of all her children, went and met Hector.

 

[255–262]  She grasped his hand and said: Why do you leave the dangerous battle, my son? I fear that the Greeks (hateful name!) are wearing you down and fighting around the city, so that you seek, urged by distress, the acropolis, to lift your hands in prayer to Zeus? But pause awhile until I shall bring you wine.  First, let us pour rich libation to Zeus and the other gods so that you may drink and be refreshed. For wine is mighty and renews the strength of weary man; and weary you must be having long defended your city and your men.

 

[263–287]  To whom Hector majestically replied: “My dear mother, do not bring me wine, unless I forget my might. I fear, beside, with unwashed hands to pour libation of wine to Zeus, nor is it right to pray to the storm-stirring god when I am spattered with blood and gore.  You, therefore, gather all our women, and take burnt offerings to the temple of Athena Pallas, huntress of the spoil. Select from the attire treasured within thy chamber the most beautiful robe, the one which you prize most—then spread the gift on Athena Pallas' divine lap. Promise you will sacrifice twelve one-year old heifers, untouched with puncture of the prod, if she will pity city of Troy, and our wives and our children, in hopes that she will avert the son of Tydeus from these sacred towers, that dreadful Chief, terror of our entire host.  Go then, my mother, seek the hallowed temple of Athena. I, meanwhile, will go see Paris and call him out, if he is still willing to hear. May the earth yawn and swallow him whole! He who Zeus had made a curse to Troy, and to Priam and to his entire house; I think to see him plunged into the house of Hades forever!  This would cure all my woes."

 

[288–298]  So he spoke. The Queen, entering her palace, called out to her maidens. They, throughout Troy, gathered all the women and convened just as she requested. In the meantime, she went into her incense-fumed wardrobe where her treasures lay, the works of Sidonian women, who were brought to Troy by her godlike son Paris, when he crossed the seas with well-begotten Helen. She chose the most magnificent and most colorful, vivid as a star it shone, the loveliest of all in the sky.  Then she went, the Trojan matrons all following her steps.

 

[299–313]  But when the long procession reached the temple of Athena in the heights of Troy, the fair Theano Daughter of Cisseus, brave Antenor's spouse, opened the doors wide.  She had been, at this time, appointed as Priestess of Athena.  All with lifted hands in prayer to Athena, they wept aloud. Beautiful Theano placed the robe on the Goddess' lap, and to the fair daughter of Zeus omnipotent her prayer she addressed. Goddess of Goddesses, our city's shield, adored Athena, hear! oh! break the lance of Diomede, and allow him to fall prone in the dust before the Scæan gate. So that we may offer to you at your shrine, on this day twelve one-year old heifers, untouched by yoke or prod, if you will show pity to Troy, and save our children and our wives. Such prayer the priestess offered, but Athena did not accept the request.

 

[314–331]  But meanwhile, Hector went to the palace of Alexander, which himself had built, aided by every illustrious architect in Troy. The chamber had a wide hall, proud dome, and on the top of the city of Troy Priam’s house neighbored Hector's house. There entered Hector, Zeus-beloved, and in his hand he held a spear sixteen feet in length, its glittering point bound with a ring of gold.  He found Paris within his chamber, polishing with the most exact care, his resplendent armor, shield, and his chest plate, while fingering over with curious touch and tampering with his bow. Helen of Argos with her female train sat occupied, assigning each their own task. Hector fixed his eyes on Paris, rebuked him with his stern look, “Your adventures of the heart are ill-timed. The people perish at our lofty walls; the flames of war have compassed Troy entirely and it is you who has kindled them. Your slackness shows; you should fight with anyone who holds back in this hateful war, so come to battle before the whole city burns."

 

[332–344]  To which Paris replied, “Graceful as a god since, Hector, you have charged me with a fault, and not unjustly, I will give you an answer, and give you special heed. The reason I sit here is because of sorrow, which I wished to ease, in secret, not displeasure or revenge. I tell you also, that now even my wife tried to convince me in most soothing terms that I should go to battle, and I myself am aware that victory often changes sides and that is the course I prefer. Wait awhile, therefore, until I dress for the fight, or go first, and I will catch up soon." He stopped speaking, to whom brave Hector did not reply. 

 

[345–368]  Helen addressed Hector with lenient speech, “My brother! who in me has found a sister worthy of your hatred , the author of all Troy’s calamity, oh I wish that the winds, on the day I was born, had swept me out of sight and whirled me aloft to some inhospitable mountain-top, or plunged me in the deep.  I wish that there I had sunk overwhelmed, and all these ills had never taken place. But since the gods would bring these ills to pass, I should, at least, have chosen some mate more worthy, one not immune to public shame! But this man has an unstable mind, and it will always be unstable!  Someday he shall find his just reward. But come in, take this seat, my brother, for troubles follow you most because of me! The crime, my brother, for which the gods have fated, both for Paris and my most detested self, will be the burdens of an endless song!” To which the warlike Hector replied, “Bid me not, Helen, to a seat, however you wish I may stay, for you won’t persuade me. The Trojans miss me, and I myself am anxious to return to them.  But urge in this man to get moving, or just let him urge himself to overtake me while I am still in town. For I must head home quickly so that I may see my beloved Andromache and my infant boy, and my domestic servants, since I am ignorant if ever I will see them again, or if my fate ordains me now to fall by Grecian hands."

 

[369–390]  So spoke the dauntless hero, and he left. But he soon reached his own well-built abode but he did not find his fair Andromache inside.  Rather, she stood lamenting Hector, with the wet nurse who helped her bore her infant son. He then, not finding his chaste wife inside, asked her attendants from the doorway, “Tell me, maidens, where is Andromache the fair? Did she go see her sisters or one of my brother’s wives?  Or to Athena’s temple, where the bright-haired matrons of the city gather to appease the awful Goddess? Tell me true.” To which his household's servant replied, “Hector, if truth is your demand, receive this true answer: She did not go to see her sisters, nor to Athena’s temple, where the bright-haired matrons of the city gather to appease the awful Goddess; but she went to the tower of Troy, for she had heard that the Greeks had prevailed, and driven the Trojans to the walls.  She, therefore, with wild grief, went to the tower with haste, along with her wet nurse and young child.” So spoke the prudent attendant. 

 

[391–402]  When Hector heard her words issuing from his door he left the house with  hasty steps, back through the streets of lofty Troy.  Having traversed the entire spacious city, he finally approached The Scæan gate, through which he leaves the city and passes through the plain.  There, his noble wife met him.  Andromache the rich-endowed and fair daughter of Eëtion famed in arms, who lived in Hypoplacian Thebes, Cilicia's mighty lord.  It was his daughter whom valiant Hector had wedded and she met him there, along with her wet nurse, bearing in her arms Scamandrios, his infant darling boy, beautiful as a star.  Although Hector called Scamandrios, the rest of Troy called him Astyanax, for that Hector's arm alone was the defense and strength of Troy.

 

 [403–426]  The father, silent, eyed his babe, and smiled. Andromache, meanwhile, stood before him, with tears streaming down her cheeks, grasped his hand, and said, “Your own great courage will destroy you, my noble Hector! Neither do you take pity on your helpless infant nor my pitiful self, whose widowhood is near; for you will fall before long, assailed by the whole host of Greece. Then let my tomb be my best retreat when you are dead – for I can expect neither comfort nor joy after your death, only sorrow. I have no father and no mother.  When Cilicia's city, Thebes was sacked by Achilles, he slew my father; but he did not strip him of his reverence, because he respected him.  He burned my father in his armor on a funeral pyre, and filled his tomb, which the nymphs, Zeus’ daughters, had enclosed with elm trees.  My seven brothers, the glory of our house, all in one day descended to the house of Hades.   For brave Achilles, while they fed their herds and snowy flocks together, slew them all. My mother, Queen of the well-wooded realm Of Hypoplacian Thebes, was brought among his other spoils.  Achilles sold her inestimable ransom-price, but by Artemis’ arrow pierced her and she died at home.

 

[427–451]  Yet Hector—oh my husband! I in you I find parents, brothers, and all that I have lost. Come! Have compassion on us. Do not go to battle, but guard this tower, unless you make a widow of me and an orphan of your young boy. The city walls are easiest of ascent at that fig-tree; station your troops there, for some prophet told me this.  Each Ajax with Idomeneus of Crete, the sons of Atreus, and the valiant son of Tydeus, have now three times assailed the town and tested the wall.”  Great Hector replied, “These cares, Andromache, which you engage, all touch me as well, but I dread to incur the scorn of male and female tongues in Troy, if, I should decline the fight like a coward.  Nor feel I such a wish. No. I have learned to be courageous always, in the forefront among the fighters of Troy to demonstrate my glorious father's honor, and also my own. For the day shall come when sacred Troy, when Priam, and the people of the of his kingdom shall perish, I am sure. But I weep for no Trojan, not even for Hecuba, nor yet for Priam, nor for all the brave of my own brothers who shall kiss the dust, or for you and I, because far greater is the sorrow I would have when the Greeks take you away crying, and take away your freedom."

 

[452–477]  Then you shall toil in Argos at the loom for a task-mistress, and constrained you will draw water from Hypereïa's fountain or from Messeïs fountain, her proud command. Some Greek then, seeing your tears, shall say— “This was the wife of Hector, who excelled all Troy in fight when Troy was besieged.” Such they will say to you, and your heart, all the while, will bleed fresh through want of such a friend to stand between captivity and yourself. But may I rest beneath my hill of earth or before that day arrive! I would not live to hear your cries, and see you torn away!” So saying, illustrious Hector stretched his arms forth to his son, but with a scream, the child fell back into the bosom of his nurse, afraid of his father’s face, whose bright armor he had attentively marked and his shaggy crest poking out over his helmet's height. His father and his gentle mother laughed and noble Hector lifting from his head, he placed his dazzling helmet, on the ground, then kissed his boy and handled him, and thus in earnest prayer the heavenly powers implored, “Listen, gods! as you have given to me, so also on my son excelling might bestow, with chief authority in Troy. And be his record this, in time to come, when he returns from battle, help my son excel even his father! May every foe fall under him, and he comes home laden with spoils blood-stained to his dear mother's joy!” He said, and gave his infant to the arms of his Andromache, who she welcomed him into her fragrant bosom, bitter tears with sweet smiles mingling. 

 

[478-–497]  Hector was moved with pity at this sight, touched her cheek softly, and said, “Do not mourn too much for me, my beloved Andromache, no man shall send me to the house of Hades, before my allotted hour, and nobody lives who can live longer than that date which heaven assigned him, be he base or brave.  Go then, and occupy yourself with the housework, the woman's sphere; practice the distaff, spin and weave, and order your servants their work.  War belongs to man; to all men; and of all who first drew vital breath in Troy, and most of all to me. He ceased, and he raised his crested helmet from the ground.  His Andromache, at once obedient, to her home began to leave, but turned several times as she went and each time she wept again.  No sooner that she arrived at the palace that her numerous maidens were found within, she raised a general lamentation, with one voice, in Hector’s own house, his whole domestic train mourned Hector, yet still alive; for none the hope conceived of his escape from Greek hands, or to behold their living master more.