He spake; and Pallas from the Olympian peaks, Encouraged by his words in what her thought Had planned already, downward shot to earth. Still, with quick steps, the fleet Achilles pressed On Hector’s flight. As when a hound has roused A fawn from its retreat among the hills, And chases it through glen and forest ground. And to close thickets, where it skulks in fear Until he overtake it, Hector thus Sought vainly to elude the fleet pursuit Of Peleus’ son. As often as he thought, By springing toward the gates of Troy, to gain Aid from the weapons of his friends who stood On the tall towers, so often was the Greek Before him, forcing him to turn away From Ilium toward the plain. Achilles thus Kept nearest to the city. As in dreams The fleet pursuer cannot overtake, Nor the pursued escape, so was it now; One followed but in vain, the other fled As fruitlessly. But how could Hector thus Have put aside the imminent doom of death, Had not Apollo met him once again, For the last time, and given him strength and speed?