ree times as much to gain my
freedom; it is but twelve days that I have come to Ilius after much
suffering, and now cruel fate has again thrown me into your hands.
Surely father Jove must hate me, that he has given me over to you a
second time. Short of life indeed did my mother Laothoe bear me,
daughter of aged Altes--of Altes who reigns over the warlike Lelegae
and holds steep Pedasus on the river Satnioeis. Priam married his
daughter along with many other women and two sons were born of her,
both of whom you will have slain. Your spear slew noble Polydorus as he
was fighting in the front ranks, and now evil will here befall me, for
I fear that I shall not escape you since heaven has delivered me over
to you. Furthermore I say, and lay my saying to your heart, spare me,
for I am not of the same womb as Hector who slew your brave and noble
comrade."

With such words did the princely son of Priam beseech Achilles; but
Achilles answered him sternly. "Idiot," said he, "talk not to me of
ransom. Until Patroclus fell I preferred to give the Trojans quarter,
and sold beyond the sea many of those whom I had taken alive; but now
not a man shall live of those whom heaven delivers into my hands before
the city of Ilius--and of all Trojans it shall fare hardest with the
sons of Priam. Therefore, my friend, you too shall die. Why should you
whine in this way? Patroclus fell, and he was a better man than you
are. I too--see you not how I am great and goodly? I am son to a noble
father, and have a goddess for my mother, but the hands of doom and
death overshadow me all as surely. The day will come, either at dawn or
dark, or at the noontide, when one shall take my life also in battle,
either with his spear, or with an arrow sped from his bow."

Thus did he speak, and Lycaon's heart sank within him. He loosed his
hold of the spear, and held out both hands before him; but Achilles
drew his keen blade, and struck him by the collar-bone on his neck; he
plunged his two-edged sword into him to the very hilt, whereon he lay
at full length on the ground, with the dark blood welling from him till
the earth was soaked. Then Achilles caught him by the foot and flung
him into the river to go down stream, vaunting over him the while, and
saying, "Lie there among the fishes, who will lick the blood from your
wound and gloat over it; your mother shall not lay you on any bier to
mourn you, but the eddies of Scamander shall bear you into the broad