And when the Cloud-compeller Jove beheld Hector apart, accoutred in the arms Of Peleus’ godlike son, he shook his head, And to himself he said: “Unhappy man! Death even now is near to thee, and yet Is not in all thy thoughts. Thou puttest on The heavenly armor of the terrible chief, Before whom others tremble; thou hast slain His friend, the brave and gentle, and hast stripped, To do him shame, the armor from his limbs. Yet will I for the moment give to thee Fresh triumphs, since Andromache shall ne’er Receive, when thou returnest from the field, The armor of Pelides from thy hands.”