the soul forsook his limbs, And flew to Hades, grieving for its fate— So soon divorced from youth and youthful might. Then said the great Achilles to the dead:—
“Die thou; and I, whenever it shall please Jove and the other gods, will meet my fate.”
He spake, and, plucking forth his brazen lance, He laid it by, and from the body stripped The bloody mail. The thronging Greeks beheld With wonder Hector’s tall and stately form, And no one came who did not add a wound; And, looking to each other, thus they said:—
“How much more tamely Hector now endures Our touch than when he set the fleet on fire!”
Such were the words of those who smote the dead; But now, when swift Achilles from the corpse Had stripped the armor, he stood forth among The Achaian host, and spake these wingèd words:—
“Leaders and princes of the Grecian host! Since we, my friends, by favor of the gods, Have overcome the chief who wrought more harm To us than all the rest, let us assault The town, and learn what they of Troy intend— Whether their troops will leave the citadel Since he is slain, or hold it with strong hand, Though Hector is no more. But why give thought To plans like these while yet Patroclus lies A corse unwept, unburied, at the fleet? I never will forget him while I live And while these limbs have motion. Though below In Hades they forget the dead, yet I Will there remember my beloved friend. Now then, ye youths of Greece, move on and chant A paean, while, returning to the fleet, We bring great glory with us; we have slain The noble Hector, whom, throughout their town, The Trojans ever worshipped like a god.”
He spake, and, planning in his mind to treat The noble Hector shamefully, he bored The sinews of his feet between the heel And ankle;