Hector took up his shining helmet. Andromache went home, often turning back and shedding thick tears. Her attendants mourned Hector while he still lived, thinking he would never return from battle and escape the fury of the Achaeans.
Paris armed and ran through the city like a stalled horse breaking its halter and racing to the pasture of mares, mane streaming, glorying in its strength. He overtook Hector as Hector turned from speaking with his wife.
Paris apologized for delaying him. Hector answered that no fair-minded man could make light of Paris’s work in battle, for he was strong, but he willingly slackened, and Hector grieved to hear the Trojans shame him. They would settle it later if Zeus ever granted them to drive the Achaeans from Troy and set a free bowl for the deathless gods.