He spake: Apollo hearkened and obeyed His father, darting down from Ida’s height Like the fleet falcon, chaser of the dove, And swiftest of the race of birds. He found Hector, the warlike Priam’s noble son, No longer on his bed. He sat upright; The life was coming back; he knew again His friends; the heavy breathing ceased; the sweat Was stanched; the will of aegis-bearing Jove Revived the warrior’s strength. The archer-god, Phoebus, approached, and, standing by him, said:⁠—

“Why, Hector, son of Priam, dost thou sit Languishing thus, apart from all the host? Has aught of evil overtaken thee?”