THE STEALING OF HELEN

This happy time did not last long, and Telemachus was still a baby, when

war arose, so great and mighty and marvellous as had never been known in

the world. Far across the sea that lies on the east of Greece, there

dwelt the rich King Priam. His town was called Troy, or Ilios, and it

stood on a hill near the seashore, where are the straits of Hellespont,

between Europe and Asia; it was a great city surrounded by strong walls,

and its ruins are still standing. The kings could make merchants who

passed through the straits pay toll to them, and they had allies in

Thrace, a part of Europe opposite Troy, and Priam was chief of all

princes on his side of the sea, as Agamemnon was chief king in Greece.

Priam had many beautiful things; he had a vine made of gold, with golden

leaves and clusters, and he had the swiftest horses, and many strong and

brave sons; the strongest and bravest was named Hector, and the youngest

and most beautiful was named Paris.

There was a prophecy that Priam's wife would give birth to a burning

torch, so, when Paris was born, Priam sent a servant to carry the baby

into a wild wood on Mount Ida, and leave him to die or be eaten by wolves

and wild cats. The servant left the child, but a shepherd found him, and

brought him up as his own son. The boy became as beautiful, for a boy,

as Helen was for a girl, and was the best runner, and hunter, and archer

among the country people. He was loved by the beautiful OEnone, a

nymph--that is, a kind of fairy--who dwelt in a cave among the woods of

Ida. The Greeks and Trojans believed in these days that such fair nymphs

haunted all beautiful woodland places, and the mountains, and wells, and

had crystal palaces, like mermaids, beneath the waves of the sea. These

fairies were not mischievous, but gentle and kind. Sometimes they

married mortal men, and OEnone was the bride of Paris, and hoped to keep

him for her own all the days of his life.

It was believed that she had the magical power of healing wounded men,

however sorely they were hurt. Paris and OEnone lived most happily

together in the forest; but one day, when the servants of Priam had

driven off a beautiful bull that was in the herd of Paris, he left the

hills to seek it, and came into the town of Troy. His mother, Hecuba,

saw him, and looking at him closely, perceived that he wore a ring which

she had tied round her baby's neck when he was taken away from her soon

after his birth. Then Hecuba, beholding him so beautiful, and knowing

him to be her son, wept for joy, and they all forgot the prophecy that he

would be a burning torch of fire, and Priam gave him a house like those

of his brothers, the Trojan princes.

The fame of beautiful Helen reached Troy, and Paris quite forgot unhappy

OEnone, and must needs go to see Helen for himself. Perhaps he meant to

try to win her for his wife, before her marriage. But sailing was little

understood in these times, and the water was wide, and men were often

driven for years out of their course, to Egypt, and Africa, and far away

into the unknown seas, where fairies lived in enchanted islands, and

cannibals dwelt in caves of the hills.

Paris came much too late to have a chance of marrying Helen; however, he

was determined to see her, and he made his way to her palace beneath the

mountain Taygetus, beside the clear swift river Eurotas. The servants

came out of the hall when they heard the sound of wheels and horses'

feet, and some of them took the horses to the stables, and tilted the

chariots against the gateway, while others led Paris into the hall, which

shone like the sun with gold and silver. Then Paris and his companions

were led to the baths, where they were bathed, and clad in new clothes,

mantles of white, and robes of purple, and next they were brought before

King Menelaus, and he welcomed them kindly, and meat was set before them,

and wine in cups of gold. While they were talking, Helen came forth from

her fragrant chamber, like a Goddess, her maidens following her, and

carrying for her an ivory distaff with violet-coloured wool, which she

span as she sat, and heard Paris tell how far he had travelled to see her

who was so famous for her beauty even in countries far away.

Then Paris knew that he had never seen, and never could see, a lady so

lovely and gracious as Helen as she sat and span, while the red drops

fell and vanished from the ruby called the Star; and Helen knew that

among all the princes in the world there was none so beautiful as Paris.

Now some say that Paris, by art magic, put on the appearance of Menelaus,

and asked Helen to come sailing with him, and that she, thinking he was

her husband, followed him, and he carried her across the wide waters of

Troy, away from her lord and her one beautiful little daughter, the child

Hermione. And others say that the Gods carried Helen herself off to

Egypt, and that they made in her likeness a beautiful ghost, out of

flowers and sunset clouds, whom Paris bore to Troy, and this they did to

cause war between Greeks and Trojans. Another story is that Helen and

her bower maiden and her jewels were seized by force, when Menelaus was

out hunting. It is only certain that Paris and Helen did cross the seas

together, and that Menelaus and little Hermione were left alone in the

melancholy palace beside the Eurotas. Penelope, we know for certain,

made no excuses for her beautiful cousin, but hated her as the cause of

her own sorrows and of the deaths of thousands of men in war, for all the

Greek princes were bound by their oath to fight for Menelaus against any

one who injured him and stole his wife away. But Helen was very unhappy

in Troy, and blamed herself as bitterly as all the other women blamed

her, and most of all OEnone, who had been the love of Paris. The men

were much more kind to Helen, and were determined to fight to the death

rather than lose the sight of her beauty among them.

The news of the dishonour done to Menelaus and to all the princes of

Greece ran through the country like fire through a forest. East and west

and south and north went the news: to kings in their castles on the

hills, and beside the rivers and on cliffs above the sea. The cry came

to ancient Nestor of the white beard at Pylos, Nestor who had reigned

over two generations of men, who had fought against the wild folk of the

hills, and remembered the strong Heracles, and Eurytus of the black bow

that sang before the day of battle.

The cry came to black-bearded Agamemnon, in his strong town called

"golden Mycenae," because it was so rich; it came to the people in

Thisbe, where the wild doves haunt; and it came to rocky Pytho, where is

the sacred temple of Apollo and the maid who prophesies. It came to

Aias, the tallest and strongest of men, in his little isle of Salamis;

and to Diomede of the loud war-cry, the bravest of warriors, who held

Argos and Tiryns of the black walls of huge, stones, that are still

standing. The summons came to the western islands and to Ulysses in

Ithaca, and even far south to the great island of Crete of the hundred

cities, where Idomeneus ruled in Cnossos; Idomeneus, whose ruined palace

may still be seen with the throne of the king, and pictures painted on

the walls, and the King's own draught-board of gold and silver, and

hundreds of tablets of clay, on which are written the lists of royal

treasures. Far north went the news to Pelasgian Argos, and Hellas, where

the people of Peleus dwelt, the Myrmidons; but Peleus was too old to

fight, and his boy, Achilles, dwelt far away, in the island of Scyros,

dressed as a girl, among the daughters of King Lycomedes. To many

another town and to a hundred islands went the bitter news of approaching

war, for all princes knew that their honour and their oaths compelled

them to gather their spearmen, and bowmen, and slingers from the fields

and the fishing, and to make ready their ships, and meet King Agamemnon

in the harbour of Aulis, and cross the wide sea to besiege Troy town.

Now the story is told that Ulysses was very unwilling to leave his island

and his wife Penelope, and little Telemachus; while Penelope had no wish

that he should pass into danger, and into the sight of Helen of the fair

hands. So it is said that when two of the princes came to summon

Ulysses, he pretended to be mad, and went ploughing the sea sand with

oxen, and sowing the sand with salt. Then the prince Palamedes took the

baby Telemachus from the arms of his nurse, Eurycleia, and laid him in

the line of the furrow, where the ploughshare would strike him and kill

him. But Ulysses turned the plough aside, and they cried that he was not

mad, but sane, and he must keep his oath, and join the fleet at Aulis, a

long voyage for him to sail, round the stormy southern Cape of Maleia.

Whether this tale be true or not, Ulysses did go, leading twelve black

ships, with high beaks painted red at prow and stern. The ships had

oars, and the warriors manned the oars, to row when there was no wind.

There was a small raised deck at each end of the ships; on these decks

men stood to fight with sword and spear when there was a battle at sea.

Each ship had but one mast, with a broad lugger sail, and for anchors

they had only heavy stones attached to cables. They generally landed at

night, and slept on the shore of one of the many islands, when they

could, for they greatly feared to sail out of sight of land.

The fleet consisted of more than a thousand ships, each with fifty

warriors, so the army was of more than fifty thousand men. Agamemnon had

a hundred ships, Diomede had eighty, Nestor had ninety, the Cretans with

Idomeneus, had eighty, Menelaus had sixty; but Aias and Ulysses, who

lived in small islands, had only twelve ships apiece. Yet Aias was so

brave and strong, and Ulysses so brave and wise, that they were ranked

among the greatest chiefs and advisers of Agamemnon, with Menelaus,

Diomede, Idomeneus, Nestor, Menestheus of Athens, and two or three

others. These chiefs were called the Council, and gave advice to

Agamemnon, who was commander-in-chief. He was a brave fighter, but so

anxious and fearful of losing the lives of his soldiers that Ulysses and

Diomede were often obliged to speak to him very severely. Agamemnon was

also very insolent and greedy, though, when anybody stood up to him, he

was ready to apologise, for fear the injured chief should renounce his

service and take away his soldiers.

Nestor was much respected because he remained brave, though he was too

old to be very useful in battle. He generally tried to make peace when

the princes quarrelled with Agamemnon. He loved to tell long stories

about his great deeds when he was young, and he wished the chiefs to

fight in old-fashioned ways.

For instance, in his time the Greeks had fought in clan regiments, and

the princely men had never dismounted in battle, but had fought in

squadrons of chariots, but now the owners of chariots fought on foot,

each man for himself, while his squire kept the chariot near him to

escape on if he had to retreat. Nestor wished to go back to the good old

way of chariot charges against the crowds of foot soldiers of the enemy.

In short, he was a fine example of the old-fashioned soldier.

Aias, though so very tall, strong, and brave, was rather stupid. He

seldom spoke, but he was always ready to fight, and the last to retreat.

Menelaus was weak of body, but as brave as the best, or more brave, for

he had a keen sense of honour, and would attempt what he had not the

strength to do. Diomede and Ulysses were great friends, and always

fought side by side, when they could, and helped each other in the most

dangerous adventures.

These were the chiefs who led the great Greek armada from the harbour of

Aulis. A long time had passed, after the flight of Helen, before the

large fleet could be collected, and more time went by in the attempt to

cross the sea to Troy. There were tempests that scattered the ships, so

they were driven back to Aulis to refit; and they fought, as they went

out again, with the peoples of unfriendly islands, and besieged their

towns. What they wanted most of all was to have Achilles with them, for

he was the leader of fifty ships and 2,500 men, and he had magical armour

made, men said, for his father, by Hephaestus, the God of armour-making

and smithy work.

At last the fleet came to the Isle of Scyros, where they suspected that

Achilles was concealed. King Lycomedes received the chiefs kindly, and

they saw all his beautiful daughters dancing and playing at ball, but

Achilles was still so young and slim and so beautiful that they did not

know him among the others. There was a prophecy that they could not take

Troy without him, and yet they could not find him out. Then Ulysses had

a plan. He blackened his eyebrows and beard and put on the dress of a

Phoenician merchant. The Phoenicians were a people who lived near the

Jews, and were of the same race, and spoke much the same language, but,

unlike the Jews, who, at that time were farmers in Palestine, tilling the

ground, and keeping flocks and herds, the Phoenicians were the greatest

of traders and sailors, and stealers of slaves. They carried cargoes of

beautiful cloths, and embroideries, and jewels of gold, and necklaces of

amber, and sold these everywhere about the shores of Greece and the

islands.

Ulysses then dressed himself like a Phoenician pedlar, with his pack on

his back: he only took a stick in his hand, his long hair was turned up,

and hidden under a red sailor's cap, and in this figure he came, stooping

beneath his pack, into the courtyard of King Lycomedes. The girls heard

that a pedlar had come, and out they all ran, Achilles with the rest to

watch the pedlar undo his pack. Each chose what she liked best: one took

a wreath of gold; another a necklace of gold and amber; another earrings;

a fourth a set of brooches, another a dress of embroidered scarlet cloth;

another a veil; another a pair of bracelets; but at the bottom of the

pack lay a great sword of bronze, the hilt studded with golden nails.

Achilles seized the sword. "This is for me!" he said, and drew the sword

from the gilded sheath, and made it whistle round his head.

"You are Achilles, Peleus' son!" said Ulysses; "and you are to be the

chief warrior of the Achaeans," for the Greeks then called themselves

Achaeans. Achilles was only too glad to hear these words, for he was

quite tired of living among maidens. Ulysses led him into the hall where

the chiefs were sitting at their wine, and Achilles was blushing like any

girl.

"Here is the Queen of the Amazons," said Ulysses--for the Amazons were a

race of warlike maidens--"or rather here is Achilles, Peleus' son, with

sword in hand." Then they all took his hand, and welcomed him, and he

was clothed in man's dress, with the sword by his side, and presently

they sent him back with ten ships to his home. There his mother, Thetis,

of the silver feet, the goddess of the sea, wept over him, saying, "My

child, thou hast the choice of a long and happy and peaceful life here

with me, or of a brief time of war and undying renown. Never shall I see

thee again in Argos if thy choice is for war." But Achilles chose to die

young, and to be famous as long as the world stands. So his father gave

him fifty ships, with Patroclus, who was older than he, to be his friend,

and with an old man, Phoenix, to advise him; and his mother gave him the

glorious armour that the God had made for his father, and the heavy ashen

spear that none but he could wield, and he sailed to join the host of the

Achaeans, who all praised and thanked Ulysses that had found for them

such a prince. For Achilles was the fiercest fighter of them all, and

the swiftest-footed man, and the most courteous prince, and the gentlest

with women and children, but he was proud and high of heart, and when he

was angered his anger was terrible.

The Trojans would have had no chance against the Greeks if only the men

of the city of Troy had fought to keep Helen of the fair hands. But they

had allies, who spoke different languages, and came to fight for them

both from Europe and from Asia. On the Trojan as well as on the Greek

side were people called Pelasgians, who seem to have lived on both shores

of the sea. There were Thracians, too, who dwelt much further north than

Achilles, in Europe and beside the strait of Hellespont, where the narrow

sea runs like a river. There were warriors of Lycia, led by Sarpedon and

Glaucus; there were Carians, who spoke in a strange tongue; there were

Mysians and men from Alybe, which was called "the birthplace of silver,"

and many other peoples sent their armies, so that the war was between

Eastern Europe, on one side, and Western Asia Minor on the other. The

people of Egypt took no part in the war: the Greeks and Islesmen used to

come down in their ships and attack the Egyptians as the Danes used to

invade England. You may see the warriors from the islands, with their

horned helmets, in old Egyptian pictures.

The commander-in-chief, as we say now, of the Trojans was Hector, the son

of Priam. He was thought a match for any one of the Greeks, and was

brave and good. His brothers also were leaders, but Paris preferred to

fight from a distance with bow and arrows. He and Pandarus, who dwelt on

the slopes of Mount Ida, were the best archers in the Trojan army. The

princes usually fought with heavy spears, which they threw at each other,

and with swords, leaving archery to the common soldiers who had no armour

of bronze. But Teucer, Meriones, and Ulysses were the best archers of

the Achaeans. People called Dardanians were led by Aeneas, who was said

to be the son of the most beautiful of the goddesses. These, with

Sarpedon and Glaucus, were the most famous of the men who fought for

Troy.

Troy was a strong town on a hill. Mount Ida lay behind it, and in front

was a plain sloping to the sea shore. Through this plain ran two

beautiful clear rivers, and there were scattered here and there what you

would have taken for steep knolls, but they were really mounds piled up

over the ashes of warriors who had died long ago. On these mounds

sentinels used to stand and look across the water to give warning if the

Greek fleet drew near, for the Trojans had heard that it was on its way.

At last the fleet came in view, and the sea was black with ships, the

oarsmen pulling with all their might for the honour of being the first to

land. The race was won by the ship of the prince Protesilaus, who was

first of all to leap on shore, but as he leaped he was struck to the

heart by an arrow from the bow of Paris. This must have seemed a good

omen to the Trojans, and to the Greeks evil, but we do not hear that the

landing was resisted in great force, any more than that of Norman William

was, when he invaded England.

The Greeks drew up all their ships on shore, and the men camped in huts

built in front of the ships. There was thus a long row of huts with the

ships behind them, and in these huts the Greeks lived all through the ten

years that the siege of Troy lasted. In these days they do not seem to

have understood how to conduct a siege. You would have expected the

Greeks to build towers and dig trenches all round Troy, and from the

towers watch the roads, so that provisions might not be brought in from

the country. This is called "investing" a town, but the Greeks never

invested Troy. Perhaps they had not men enough; at all events the place

remained open, and cattle could always be driven in to feed the warriors

and the women and children.

Moreover, the Greeks for long never seem to have tried to break down one

of the gates, nor to scale the walls, which were very high, with ladders.

On the other hand, the Trojans and allies never ventured to drive the

Greeks into the sea; they commonly remained within the walls or

skirmished just beneath them. The older men insisted on this way of

fighting, in spite of Hector, who always wished to attack and storm the

camp of the Greeks. Neither side had machines for throwing heavy stones,

such as the Romans used later, and the most that the Greeks did was to

follow Achilles and capture small neighbouring cities, and take the women

for slaves, and drive the cattle. They got provisions and wine from the

Phoenicians, who came in ships, and made much profit out of the war.

It was not till the tenth year that the war began in real earnest, and

scarcely any of the chief leaders had fallen. Fever came upon the

Greeks, and all day the camp was black with smoke, and all night shone

with fire from the great piles of burning wood, on which the Greeks

burned their dead, whose bones they then buried under hillocks of earth.

Many of these hillocks are still standing on the plain of Troy. When the

plague had raged for ten days, Achilles called an assembly of the whole

army, to try to find out why the Gods were angry. They thought that the

beautiful God Apollo (who took the Trojan side) was shooting invisible

arrows at them from his silver bow, though fevers in armies are usually

caused by dirt and drinking bad water. The great heat of the sun, too,

may have helped to cause the disease; but we must tell the story as the

Greeks told it themselves. So Achilles spoke in the assembly, and

proposed to ask some prophet why Apollo was angry. The chief prophet was

Calchas. He rose and said that he would declare the truth if Achilles

would promise to protect him from the anger of any prince whom the truth

might offend.

Achilles knew well whom Calchas meant. Ten days before, a priest of

Apollo had come to the camp and offered ransom for his daughter Chryseis,

a beautiful girl, whom Achilles had taken prisoner, with many others,

when he captured a small town. Chryseis had been given as a slave to

Agamemnon, who always got the best of the plunder because he was chief

king, whether he had taken part in the fighting or not. As a rule he did

not. To Achilles had been given another girl, Briseis, of whom he was

very fond. Now when Achilles had promised to protect Calchas, the

prophet spoke out, and boldly said, what all men knew already, that

Apollo caused the plague because Agamemnon would not return Chryseis, and

had insulted her father, the priest of the God.

On hearing this, Agamemnon was very angry. He said that he would send

Chryseis home, but that he would take Briseis away from Achilles. Then

Achilles was drawing his great sword from the sheath to kill Agamemnon,

but even in his anger he knew that this was wrong, so he merely called

Agamemnon a greedy coward, "with face of dog and heart of deer," and he

swore that he and his men would fight no more against the Trojans. Old

Nestor tried to make peace, and swords were not drawn, but Briseis was

taken away from Achilles, and Ulysses put Chryseis on board of his ship

and sailed away with her to her father's town, and gave her up to her

father. Then her father prayed to Apollo that the plague might cease,

and it did cease--when the Greeks had cleansed their camp, and purified

themselves and cast their filth into the sea.

We know how fierce and brave Achilles was, and we may wonder that he did

not challenge Agamemnon to fight a duel. But the Greeks never fought

duels, and Agamemnon was believed to be chief king by right divine.

Achilles went alone to the sea shore when his dear Briseis was led away,

and he wept, and called to his mother, the silver-footed lady of the

waters. Then she arose from the grey sea, like a mist, and sat down

beside her son, and stroked his hair with her hand, and he told her all

his sorrows. So she said that she would go up to the dwelling of the

Gods, and pray Zeus, the chief of them all, to make the Trojans win a

great battle, so that Agamemnon should feel his need of Achilles, and

make amends for his insolence, and do him honour.

Thetis kept her promise, and Zeus gave his word that the Trojans should

defeat the Greeks. That night Zeus sent a deceitful dream to Agamemnon.

The dream took the shape of old Nestor, and said that Zeus would give him

victory that day. While he was still asleep, Agamemnon was fun of hope

that he would instantly take Troy, but, when he woke, he seems not to

have been nearly so confident, for in place of putting on his armour, and

bidding the Greeks arm themselves, he merely dressed in his robe and

mantle, took his sceptre, and went and told the chiefs about his dream.

They did not feel much encouraged, so he said that he would try the

temper of the army. He would call them together, and propose to return

to Greece; but, if the soldiers took him at his word, the other chiefs

were to stop them. This was a foolish plan, for the soldiers were

wearying for beautiful Greece, and their homes, and wives and children.

Therefore, when Agamemnon did as he had said, the whole army rose, like

the sea under the west wind, and, with a shout, they rushed to the ships,

while the dust blew in clouds from under their feet. Then they began to

launch their ships, and it seems that the princes were carried away in

the rush, and were as eager as the rest to go home.

But Ulysses only stood in sorrow and anger beside his ship, and never put

hand to it, for he felt how disgraceful it was to run away. At last he

threw down his mantle, which his herald Eurybates of Ithaca, a

round-shouldered, brown, curly-haired man, picked up, and he ran to find

Agamemnon, and took his sceptre, a gold-studded staff, like a marshal's

baton, and he gently told the chiefs whom he met that they were doing a

shameful thing; but he drove the common soldiers back to the place of

meeting with the sceptre. They all returned, puzzled and chattering, but

one lame, bandy-legged, bald, round-shouldered, impudent fellow, named

Thersites, jumped up and made an insolent speech, insulting the princes,

and advising the army to run away. Then Ulysses took him and beat him

till the blood came, and he sat down, wiping away his tears, and looking

so foolish that the whole army laughed at him, and cheered Ulysses when

he and Nestor bade them arm and fight. Agamemnon still believed a good

deal in his dream, and prayed that he might take Troy that very day, and

kill Hector. Thus Ulysses alone saved the army from a cowardly retreat;

but for him the ships would have been launched in an hour. But the

Greeks armed and advanced in full force, all except Achilles and his

friend Patroclus with their two or three thousand men. The Trojans also

took heart, knowing that Achilles would not fight, and the armies

approached each other. Paris himself, with two spears and a bow, and

without armour, walked into the space between the hosts, and challenged

any Greek prince to single combat. Menelaus, whose wife Paris had

carried away, was as glad as a hungry lion when he finds a stag or a

goat, and leaped in armour from his chariot, but Paris turned and slunk

away, like a man when he meets a great serpent on a narrow path in the

hills. Then Hector rebuked Paris for his cowardice, and Paris was

ashamed and offered to end the war by fighting Menelaus. If he himself

fell, the Trojans must give up Helen and all her jewels; if Menelaus

fell, the Greeks were to return without fair Helen. The Greeks accepted

this plan, and both sides disarmed themselves to look on at the fight in

comfort, and they meant to take the most solemn oaths to keep peace till

the combat was lost and won, and the quarrel settled. Hector sent into

Troy for two lambs, which were to be sacrificed when the oaths were

taken.

In the meantime Helen of the fair hands was at home working at a great

purple tapestry on which she embroidered the battles of the Greeks and

Trojans. It was just like the tapestry at Bayeux on which Norman ladies

embroidered the battles in the Norman Conquest of England. Helen was

very fond of embroidering, like poor Mary, Queen of Scots, when a

prisoner in Loch Leven Castle. Probably the work kept both Helen and

Mary from thinking of their past lives and their sorrows.

When Helen heard that her husband was to fight Paris, she wept, and threw

a shining veil over her head, and with her two bower maidens went to the

roof of the gate tower, where king Priam was sitting with the old Trojan

chiefs. They saw her and said that it was small blame to fight for so

beautiful a lady, and Priam called her "dear child," and said, "I do not

blame you, I blame the Gods who brought about this war." But Helen said

that she wished she had died before she left her little daughter and her

husband, and her home: "Alas! shameless me!" Then she told Priam the

names of the chief Greek warriors, and of Ulysses, who was shorter by a

head than Agamemnon, but broader in chest and shoulders. She wondered

that she could not see her own two brothers, Castor and Polydeuces, and

thought that they kept aloof in shame for her sin; but the green grass

covered their graves, for they had both died in battle, far away in

Lacedaemon, their own country.

Then the lambs were sacrificed, and the oaths were taken, and Paris put

on his brother's armour, helmet, breastplate, shield, and leg-armour.

Lots were drawn to decide whether Paris or Menelaus should throw his

spear first, and, as Paris won, he threw his spear, but the point was

blunted against the shield of Menelaus. But when Menelaus threw his

spear it went clean through the shield of Paris, and through the side of

his breastplate, but only grazed his robe. Menelaus drew his sword, and

rushed in, and smote at the crest of the helmet of Paris, but his bronze

blade broke into four pieces. Menelaus caught Paris by the horsehair

crest of his helmet, and dragged him towards the Greeks, but the chin-

strap broke, and Menelaus turning round threw the helmet into the ranks

of the Greeks. But when Menelaus looked again for Paris, with a spear in

his hand, he could see him nowhere! The Greeks believed that the

beautiful goddess Aphrodite, whom the Romans called Venus, hid him in a

thick cloud of darkness and carried him to his own house, where Helen of

the fair hands found him and said to him, "Would that thou hadst

perished, conquered by that great warrior who was my lord! Go forth

again and challenge him to fight thee face to face." But Paris had no

more desire to fight, and the Goddess threatened Helen, and compelled her

to remain with him in Troy, coward as he had proved himself. Yet on

other days Paris fought well; it seems that he was afraid of Menelaus

because, in his heart, he was ashamed of himself.

Meanwhile Menelaus was seeking for Paris everywhere, and the Trojans, who

hated him, would have shown his hiding place. But they knew not where he

was, and the Greeks claimed the victory, and thought that, as Paris had

the worst of the fight, Helen would be restored to them, and they would

all sail home.

Tales of Troy: Ulysses, the Sacker of Cities · 第 4 / 14 题