The great Achilles nodded to his host A sign that no man should presume to strike At Hector with his weapon, lest perchance Another, wounding him, should bear away The glory, and Pelides only wear The second honors. When the twain had come For the fourth time beside Scamander’s springs, The All-Father raised the golden balance high, And, placing in the scales two lots which bring Death’s long dark sleep⁠—one lot for Peleus’ son, And one for knightly Hector⁠—by the midst He poised the balance. Hector’s fate sank down To Hades, and Apollo left the field.

The blue-eyed goddess Pallas then approached The son of Peleus with these wingèd words:⁠—