Andromache stood by him weeping and taking his hand in her own . " Dear husband , " said she , " your valor will bring you to destruction ; think on your infant son , and on my hapless self who ere long shall be your widow - for the Achaeans will set upon you in a body and kill you . It would be better for me , should I lose you , to lie dead and buried , for I shall have nothing left to comfort me when you are gone , save only sorrow . I have neither father nor mother now . Achilles slew my father when he sacked Thebe the goodly city of the Cilicians . He slew him , but did not for very shame despoil him ; when he had burned him in his wondrous armor , he raised a barrow over his ashes and the mountain nymphs , daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus , planted a grove of elms about his tomb .

Ἀνδρομάχη δέ οἱ ἄγχι παρίστατο δάκρυ χέουσα ,
ἔν τʼ ἄρα οἱ φῦ χειρὶ ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε ·
δαιμόνιε φθίσει σε τὸ σὸν μένος , οὐδʼ ἐλεαίρεις
παῖδά τε νηπίαχον καὶ ἔμʼ ἄμμορον , ἣ τάχα χήρη
σεῦ ἔσομαι · τάχα γάρ σε κατακτανέουσιν Ἀχαιοὶ
πάντες ἐφορμηθέντες · ἐμοὶ δέ κε κέρδιον εἴη
σεῦ ἀφαμαρτούσῃ χθόνα δύμεναι · οὐ γὰρ ἔτʼ ἄλλη
ἔσται θαλπωρὴ ἐπεὶ ἂν σύ γε πότμον ἐπίσπῃς
ἀλλʼ ἄχεʼ · οὐδέ μοι ἔστι πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ .
ἤτοι γὰρ πατέρʼ ἁμὸν ἀπέκτανε δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς ,
ἐκ δὲ πόλιν πέρσεν Κιλίκων εὖ ναιετάουσαν
Θήβην ὑψίπυλον · κατὰ δʼ ἔκτανεν Ἠετίωνα ,
οὐδέ μιν ἐξενάριξε , σεβάσσατο γὰρ τό γε θυμῷ ,
ἀλλʼ ἄρα μιν κατέκηε σὺν ἔντεσι δαιδαλέοισιν
ἠδʼ ἐπὶ σῆμʼ ἔχεεν · περὶ δὲ πτελέας ἐφύτευσαν
νύμφαι ὀρεστιάδες κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο .

Andromache came close to his side weeping , and clasped his hand and spake to him , saying : Ah , my husband , this prowess of thine will be thy doom , neither hast thou any pity for thine infant child nor for hapless me that soon shall be thy widow ; for soon will the Achaeans all set upon thee and slay thee . But for me it were better to go down to the grave if I lose thee , for nevermore shall any comfort be mine , when thou hast met thy fate , but only woes . Neither father have I nor queenly mother . My father verily goodly Achilles slew , for utterly laid he waste the well-peopled city of the Cilicians , even Thebe of lofty gates . He slew Eëtion , yet he despoiled him not , for his soul had awe of that ; but he burnt him in his armour , richly dight , and heaped over him a barrow ; and all about were elm-trees planted by nymphs of the mountain , daughters of Zeus that beareth the aegis .