Peter Paul Rubens [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
“As he spoke he drew the keen blade that hung so great and strong
by his side, and gathering himself together be sprang on Achilles
like a soaring eagle which swoops down from the clouds on to some
lamb or timid hare–even so did Hector brandish his sword and
spring upon Achilles. Achilles mad with rage darted towards him,
with his wondrous shield before his breast, and his gleaming
helmet, made with four layers of metal, nodding fiercely forward.
The thick tresses of gold with which Vulcan had crested the
helmet floated round it, and as the evening star that shines
brighter than all others through the stillness of night, even
such was the gleam of the spear which Achilles poised in his
right hand, fraught with the death of noble Hector. He eyed his
fair flesh over and over to see where he could best wound it, but
all was protected by the goodly armour of which Hector had
spoiled Patroclus after he had slain him, save only the throat
where the collar-bones divide the neck from the shoulders, and
this is a most deadly place: here then did Achilles strike him as
he was coming on towards him, and the point of his spear went
right through the fleshy part of the neck, but it did not sever
his windpipe so that he could still speak.”
