The Trojans fled into the city like frightened fawns, wiping sweat and drinking against the battlements, while the Achaeans pressed close with shields on their shoulders. Fate held Hector alone outside before Ilios and the Scaean gates.
Apollo had drawn Achilles far from the wall in divine disguise, racing ahead until the Trojans could reach safety. When the Far-Shooter revealed himself, Achilles cried out in anger that the god had cheated him of glory and saved the Trojans without risk. Then he turned back toward the city, limbs flying like a racehorse straining over the plain.
Old Priam saw him first from the wall, blazing like the star that rises in late summer and brings fever to men. He tore his gray hair and begged Hector to come inside.
He named the sons Achilles had already killed or sold across the sea, and he pictured himself torn by his own dogs in the doorway if Troy fell. Better to weep for a living son within the gates than watch him die alone.
Hecuba wept beside him and bared the breast that had nursed Hector. She pleaded that he not face Achilles alone, for she and Priam would never lay him on a bed and mourn him with honor if the dogs and birds took him.
The two begged with many tears, but they did not move Hector's heart. He stood waiting for huge Achilles as a mountain snake waits in its den, full of poison and hate.