Seba.Health
The Iliad 24.253–264
Woe is me, that am all unblest, seeing that I begat sons the best in the broad land of Troy, yet of them I avow that not one is left, not godlike Mestor, not Troilus the warrior charioteer, not Hector that was a god among men, neither seemed he as the son of a mortal man, but of a god: all them hath Ares slain, yet these things of shame are all left me, false of tongue, nimble of foot, peerless at beating the floor in the dance, robbers of lambs and kids from your own folk. Will ye not make me ready a waggon, and that with speed, and lay all these things therein, that we may get forward on our way?
σπεύσατέ μοι κακὰ τέκνα κατηφόνες· αἴθʼ ἅμα πάντες
Ἕκτορος ὠφέλετʼ ἀντὶ θοῇς ἐπὶ νηυσὶ πεφάσθαι.
ὤ μοι ἐγὼ πανάποτμος, ἐπεὶ τέκον υἷας ἀρίστους
Τροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ, τῶν δʼ οὔ τινά φημι λελεῖφθαι,
Μήστορά τʼ ἀντίθεον καὶ Τρωΐλον ἱππιοχάρμην
Ἕκτορά θʼ, ὃς θεὸς ἔσκε μετʼ ἀνδράσιν, οὐδὲ ἐῴκει
ἀνδρός γε θνητοῦ πάϊς ἔμμεναι ἀλλὰ θεοῖο.
τοὺς μὲν ἀπώλεσʼ Ἄρης, τὰ δʼ ἐλέγχεα πάντα λέλειπται
ψεῦσταί τʼ ὀρχησταί τε χοροιτυπίῃσιν ἄριστοι
ἀρνῶν ἠδʼ ἐρίφων ἐπιδήμιοι ἁρπακτῆρες.
οὐκ ἂν δή μοι ἄμαξαν ἐφοπλίσσαιτε τάχιστα,
ταῦτά τε πάντʼ ἐπιθεῖτε, ἵνα πρήσσωμεν ὁδοῖο;