and yet again, And screaming follows, certain of his prey— Thus onward flew Achilles, while as fast Fled Hector in dismay, with hurrying feet, Beside the wall. They passed the Mount of View, And the wind-beaten fig-tree, and they ran Along the public way by which the wall Was skirted, till they came where from the ground The two fair springs of eddying Xanthus rise— One pouring a warm stream from which ascends And spreads a vapor like a smoke from fire; The other, even in summer, sending forth A current cold as hail, or snow, or ice. And there were broad stone basins, fairly wrought, At which, in time of peace, before the Greeks Had landed on the plain, the Trojan dames And their fair daughters washed their sumptuous robes. Past these they swept; one fled, and one pursued— A brave man fled, a braver followed close, And swiftly both. Not for a common prize, A victim from the herd, a bullock’s hide, Such as reward the fleet of foot, they ran— The race was for the knightly Hector’s life. As firm-paced coursers, that are wont to win, Fly toward the goal, when some magnificent prize, A tripod or a damsel, is proposed In honor of some hero’s obsequies, So these flew thrice on rapid feet around The city of Priam. All the gods of heaven Looked on, and thus the Almighty Father spake:—
“Alas! I see a hero dear to me Pursued around the wall. My heart is grieved For Hector, who has brought so many thighs Of bullocks to my altar on the side Of Ida ploughed with glens, or on the heights Of Ilium. The renowned Achilles now Is chasing him with rapid feet around The city of Priam. Now bethink yourselves, And answer. Shall we rescue him from death? Or shall we doom him, valiant as he is, To perish by the hand of Peleus’ son?”
Minerva, blue-eyed goddess, answered thus: “O Father, who dost hurl the thunderbolt, And hide the sky in clouds, what hast thou said? Wouldst thou reprieve from death a mortal man, Whose doom is fixed? Then do it; but know this, That all the other gods will not approve.”