It was the time when, granted from the gods,
The first sleep creeps most sweet in weary folk.
Lo, in my dream before mine eyes, methought,
With rueful cheer I saw where Hector stood:
Out of whose eyes there gushed streams of tears,
Drawn at a cart as he of late had be,
Distained with bloody dust, whose feet were bowln
With the straight cords wherewith they haled him.
Ay me, what one! that Hector how unlike,
Which erst returnèd clad with Achilles' spoils,
Or when he threw into the Greekish ships
The Troyan flame! So was his beard defiled,
His crisped locks all clustered with his blood,
With all such wounds as many he received
About the walls of that his native town.
Whom frankly thus, methought, I spake unto,
With bitter tears and doleful deadly voice:
"O Troyan light! O only hope of thine!
What lets so long thee staid? or from what coasts,
Our most desired Hector, dost thou come?
Whom, after slaughter of thy many friends,
And travail of thy people and thy town,
All-wearied, lord, how gladly we behold!
What sorry chance hath stained thy lively face?
Or why see I these wounds, alas so wide?'
He answered nought, nor in my vain demands
Abode, but from the bottom of his breast
Sighing he said: "Flee, flee, O goddess' son,
And save thee from the fury of this flame.
Our en'mies now are masters of the walls,
And Troyë town now falleth from the top.
Sufficeth that is done for Priam's reign.
If force might serve to succor Troyë town,
This right hand well mought have been her defense.
But Toryë now commendeth to thy charge
Her holy reliques and her privy gods.
Them join to thee, as fellows of thy fate.
Large walls rear thou for them: for so thou shalt,
After time spent in th' overwandered flood.'
This said, he brought forth Vesta in his hands,
Her fillets eke, and everlasting flame.