So they throughout the city, huddled in rout like fawns, were cooling their sweat and drinking and quenching their thirst, as they rested on the fair battlements; while the Achaeans drew near the wall leaning their shields against their shoulders.
But Hector did deadly fate ensnare to abide there where he was in front of Ilios and the Scaean gates. Then unto the son of Peleus spake Phoebus Apollo: “Wherefore, son of Peleus, dost thou pursue me with swift feet, thyself a mortal, while I am an immortal god?
Not even yet hast thou known me that I am a god, but thou ragest incessantly! Hast thou in good sooth no care for thy toil regarding the Trojans whom thou dravest in rout, who now are gathered into the city, while thou hast turned thee aside hitherward? Thou shalt never slay me, for lo, I am not one that is appointed to die.”
Then with a mighty burst of anger spake to him swift-footed Achilles:
“Thou hast foiled me, thou god that workest afar, most cruel of all gods in that thou hast now turned me hither from the wall; else had many a man yet bitten the ground or ever they came into Ilios. Now hast thou robbed me of great glory, aud them hast thou saved full easily, seeing thou hadst no fear of vengeance in the aftertime.
Verily I would avenge me on thee, had I but the power.”
So spake he, and was gone toward the city in pride of heart, speeding as speedeth with a chariot a horse that is winner of prizes, one that lightly courseth at full speed over the plain; even so swiftly plied Achilles his feet and knees.
Him the old man Priam was first to behold with his eyes, as he sped all-gleaming over the plain, like to the star that cometh forth at harvest-time, and brightly do his rays shine amid the host of stars in the darkness of night, the star that men call by name the Dog of Orion.
Brightest of all is he, yet withal is he a sign of evil, and bringeth much fever upon wretched mortals. Even in such wise did the bronze gleam upon the breast of Achilles as he ran. And the old man uttered a groan, and beat upon his head with his hands, lifting them up on high, and with a groan he called aloud,
beseeching his dear son, that was standing before the gates furiously eager to do battle with Achilles. To him the old man spake piteously, stretching forth his arms: