Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/82

 'What monstrous thought,' cries she, 'my most wretched spouse, has moved you to gird on these weapons? or to what are you hurrying? It is not help like this, not protections like those you wear, that the crisis needs. No, not even if my lost Hector were now at our side. Come,    5 join us here at last; this altar shall be a defence for us all, or we will die together.' With these words she took him to where she was, and lodged his aged frame in the hallowed resting-place.

"But, see! here is Polites, one of Priam's sons escaped    10 from Pyrrhus' murderous hand, through showers of darts and masses of foemen, flying down the long corridors and traversing the empty courts, sore and wounded, while Pyrrhus, all on fire, is pursuing him, with a deadly stroke, his hand all but grasping him, his spear close upon him.     15 Just as at last he won his way into the view and presence of his parents, down he fell and poured out his life in a gush of blood. Hereon Priam, though hemmed in by death on all sides, could not restrain himself, or control voice and passion. 'Aye,' cries he, 'for a crime, for an outrage like     20 this, may the gods, if there is any sense of right in heaven to take cognizance of such deeds, give you the full thanks you merit, and pay you your due reward; you, who have made me look with my own eyes on my son's death, and stained a father's presence with the sight of blood. But    25 he whom your lying tongue calls your sire, Achilles, dealt not thus with Priam his foe—he had a cheek that could crimson at a suppliant's rights, a suppliant's honour. Hector's lifeless body he gave back to the tomb, and sent me home to my realms in peace.' So said the poor old    30 man, and hurled at him a dart unwarlike, unwounding, which the ringing brass at once shook off, and left hanging helplessly from the end of the shield's boss. Pyrrhus retorts: 'You shall take your complaint, then, and carry your news to my father, Pelides. Tell, him about my    35 shocking deeds, about his degenerate Neoptolemus, and do not forget. Now die.' With these words he dragged him to the very altar, palsied and sliding in a pool