The Death of Achilles

Ovid Metamorphoses
Nestor tells of the death of Achilles

But Neptune still grieved for the son whose body
was now a swan's, and most of all he hated
Achilles with a deadly hate. Ten years
The war went on, and Neptune sought Apollo:

"Dearest to me of all my brother's sons,
Who helped me, and for nothing, build the walls
Of Troy, is it not pitiful to see
These walls about to topple? Is it not
Pitiful that so many thousands perished
Defending them, the nameless dead, and Hector
dragged in the dirt around the town? Achilles,
Fiercer and bloodier than the war itself,
Destroyer of our workmanship, lives on,
Keeps out of my reach, or I would make him feel
The power of my trident. You can find him
Better than I can, with invisible arrow:
Bring him to suddden death!"

                                                Apollo nodded;
His own, and Neptune's, grievance drew him earthward,
Cloud-wrapped to the Trojan columns. There he saw
Paris in off-hand fashion taking pot-shots
At Greek nonentities. As very god
He spoke rebuking Paris:

                            "Why waste arrows
On common rabble? If you care at all
For vengeance, for your people, hit Achilles,
Revenge your murdered brothers!"

                                                    And he pointed
To where Achilles stood, his bright sword reaping
The Trojan ranks, and Apollo swung the bow,
Guided the hand of Paris, and old Priam
Could almost smile, for the first time since Hector
Had been brought low.

                                        How much better
To have been killed outright by a manly woman
Than womanish man, to have the Amazon,
Penthesilea, whom he slew, been victor
With her great battle-axe!