That, though the words are uttered by my lips,525
Thou count them not my own. They are the voice
Of all the Grecian chiefs, whom Hector's son
Doth still prohibit from that homeward voyage
So long delayed. And him the fates demand.
A peace secure the Greeks can never feel,
And ever will the backward-glancing fear530
Compel them on defensive arms to lean,
While on thy living son, Andromache,
The conquered Phrygians shall rest their hopes.