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14 To plans like these while yet Patroclus lies

A corpse unwept, uuburied, 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 worshiped 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; drawing through them leathern thongs

He bound them to the car, but left the head

To trail in dust. And then he climbed the car,

Took in the shining mail, and lashed to speed

The coursers. Not unwillingly they flew.

Around the dead, as he was dragged along.

The dust arose; his dark locks swept the ground.

That head, of late so noble in men's eyes.

Lay deep amid the dust, for Jove that day

Suffered the foes of Hector to insult

His corse in his own land. His mother saw,

And tore her hair, and flung her lustrous veil

Away, and uttered piercing shrieks. No less

His father, who so loved him, piteously

Bewailed him; and in all the streets of Troy

The people wept aloud, with such lament

As if the towery Ilium were in flames

Even to its loftiest roofs. They scarce could keep

The aged king within, who, wild with grief,

Struggled to rush through the Dardanian gates,