Deserted by their protectors the Trojans broke before Achilles, who nearly took the town.
Baulked a second time of his vengeance by Apollo, Achilles vowed he would have punished the god had he the power. Hector had at last decided to face his foe at the Scaean Gate. His father and his mother pleaded with him in a frenzy of grief to enter the town, but the dread of Polydamas' reproaches fixed his resolve. When Achilles came rushing towards him, his heart failed; he ran three times round the walls of the city. Meanwhile the gods held up the scales of doom; when his life sank down to death Apollo left him for ever.
Athena then took the shape of Deiphobus, encouraging him to face Achilles. Seeing unexpectedly a friend, he turned and stood his ground, for she had already warned Achilles of her plot. Hector launched his spear which sped true, but failed to penetrate the divine armour. When he found no Deiphobus at his side to give him another weapon, he knew his end had come. Drawing himself up for a final effort, he darted at Achilles; the latter spied a gap in the armour he had once worn, through which he smote Hector mortally. Lying in approaching death, the Trojan begged that his body might be honoured with a burial, but Achilles swore he should never have it, rather the dogs and carrion birds should devour his flesh. Seeing their great foe dead the Greeks flocked around him, not one passing by him without stabbing his body. Achilles bored through his ankles and attached him to his car; then whipping up his horses, he drove full speed to the camp, dragging Hector in disgrace over the plain. This scene of pure savagery is succeeded by the laments of Priam, Hecuba and Andromache over him whom Zeus allowed to be outraged in his own land.
That night the shade of Patroclus visited Achilles, bidding him bury him speedily that he might cross the gates of death; the dust of his ashes was to be stored up in an urn and mixed with Achilles' own when his turn came to die. After the funeral Achilles held games of great splendour in which the leading athletes contended for the prizes he offered.
Yet nothing could make up for the loss of his friend. Every day he dragged Hector's body round Patroclus' tomb, but Apollo in pity for the dead man kept away corruption, maintaining the body in all its beauty of manhood. At last on the twelfth day Apollo appealed to the gods to end the barbarous outrage.
"Hath not Hector offered to you many a sacrifice of bulls and
goats? Yet ye countenance the deeds of Achilles, who hath forsaken
all pity which doth harm to men and bringeth a blessing too. Many
another is like to lose a friend, but he will weep and let his
foe's body go, for the Fates have given men an heart to endure.
Good man though he be, let Achilles take heed lest he move us to
indignation by outraging in fury senseless clay."
Zeus sent to fetch Thetis whom he bade persuade her son to ransom the body; meanwhile Iris went to Troy to tell Priam to take a ransom and go to the ships without fear, for the convoy who should guide him would save him from harm.
On hearing of Priam's resolve Hecuba tried to dissuade him, but the old King would not be turned. That night he went forth alone; he was met in the plain by Hermes, disguised as a servant of Achilles, who conducted him to the hut where Hector lay. Slipping in unseen, Priam caught Achilles' knees and kissed the dread hands that had slain his son. In pity for the aged King Achilles remembered his own father, left as defenceless as Priam. Calling out his servants he bade them wash the corpse outside, lest Priam at the sight of it should upbraid him and thus provoke him to slay him and offend against the commands of Zeus. As they supped, Priam marvelled at the stature and beauty of Achilles and Achilles wondered at Priam's reverend form and his words. While Achilles slept, Hermes came to Priam to warn him of his danger if he were found in the Greek host. Hastily harnessing the chariot, he led him back safely to Troy, where the body was laid upon a bed in Hector's palace.
The laments which follow are of great beauty. Andromache bewailed her widowhood, Hecuba her dearest son; Helen's lament is a masterpiece.
"Hector, far the dearest to me of all my brethren, of a truth Paris
is my lord, who brought me hither—would I had died first. This is
the tenth year since I left my native land, yet have I never heard
from thee a word cruel or despiteful; rather, if any other chode me,
thy sister or a brother's wife or thy mother—though thy father is
gentle to me always as he were my own sire—thou didst restrain such
with words of persuasion and kindness and gentleness all thine own.
Wherefore I grieve for thee and for myself in anguish, for there is
no other friend in broad Troy kind and tender, but all shudder at me."