Among the pickets—spies had passed some spotClose by the camp. The men who saw them notTalk much, and they who saw, or might have seen,Can give no sign nor token. It had beenMy purpose to find Hector where he lay.ATHENA.Fear nothing. All is well in Troy’s array.Hector is gone to help those Thracians sleep.PARIS.Thy word doth rule me, Goddess. Yea, so deepMy trust is, that all thought of fear is lostIn comfort, and I turn me to my post.ATHENA.Go. And remember that thy fortunes stillAre watched by me, and they who do my willProsper in all their ways. Aye, thou shalt proveEre long, if I can care for those I love.Exit PARIS. She raises her voice.Back, back, ye twain! Are ye in love with death?Laertes’ son, thy sword into the sheath!Our golden Thracian gaspeth in his blood;The steeds are ours; the foe hath understoodAnd crowds against you. Haste ye! haste to fly,—Ere yet the lightning falleth, and ye die!