So spake she wailing, and thereat the women made lament. And among them Hecabe in turns led the vehement wailing:“Hector, far dearest to my heart of all my children, lo, when thou livedst thou wast dear to the gods,
and therefore have they had care of thee for all thou art in the doom of death. For of other sons of mine whomsoever he took would swift-footed Achilles sell beyond the unresting sea, unto Samos and Imbros and Lemnos, shrouded in smoke, but, when from thee he had taken away thy life with the long-edged bronze
oft would he drag thee about the barrow of his comrade, Patroclus, whom thou didst slay; howbeit even so might he not raise him up. all dewy-fresh thou liest in my halls as wert thou g newly slain, like as one whom Apollo of the silver bow assaileth with his gentle shafts and slayeth.”
So spake she wailing, and roused unabating lament. And thereafter Helen was the third to lead the wailing:“Hector, far dearest to my heart of all my husband's brethren! In sooth my husband is godlike Alexander, that brought me to Troy-land —would I died ere then!
For this is now the twentieth year from the time when I went from thence and am gone from my native land, but never yet heard I evil or despiteful word from thee; nay, if so be any other spake reproachfully of me in the halls, a brother of thine or a sister, or brother's fair-robed wife,
or thy mother—but thy father was ever gentle as he had been mine own—yet wouldst thou turn them with speech and restrain them by the gentleness of thy spirit and thy gentle words. Wherefore I wail alike for thee and for my hapless self with grief at heart; for no longer have I anyone beside in broad Troy
that is gentle to me or kind; but all men shudder at me.”