He also spoke to the soldiers, reproving them for their hasty flight, and bidding them listen to the words of their leaders, who knew better than they when and how to act. His efforts were successful. As speedily as they had fled to their ships the Greeks now rushed back, and again assembled to await the orders of their commander.

But there was one evil-minded individual who tried to incite the others to rebellion. This was Ther-siʹtes, a vulgar brawler, and the ugliest man in the whole Greek army.

This ill-conditioned grumbler, as deformed in mind as in body, took much pleasure in abusing the bravest warriors of the army, particularly Achilles and Ulysses. But on the present occasion he raised his shrill voice in words of insult against Agamemnon. "Your tents," cried he to the king, "are full of money and prizes bestowed upon you by us. Do you want still more gold, which we by our valor must win for you from the enemy? If the Greeks were not women instead of men, they would return home in their ships and leave you here to fight the Trojans. Little honor and few prizes would you then have!"

Thus did Thersites revile Agamemnon, but his insolent speech brought speedy punishment upon him. Ulysses, who was close at hand, turned with angry looks upon the offender and rebuked him in stern language. Then with his scepter he smote Thersites on the back and shoulders, until he wept with pain and crouched down upon his seat in fear and trembling.

All the Greeks laughed heartily at the cowering wretch as he wiped his face, and they loudly applauded the act of the Ithacan chief. "Surely," said they, "Ulysses has performed many good deeds, but now he has done the best thing of all in punishing this foul-mouthed reviler as he deserved."

Then Ulysses, taking in his hand the famous scepter of Agamemnon, made an eloquent speech to the army, Minerva, the azure-eyed, in the appearance of a herald, having commanded the people to be silent, that they might hear the words of the wisest of their leaders. It was upon this occasion that the Ithacan king told the story of the serpent devouring the birds at Aulis, as already related. Many of the Greeks had forgotten the marvelous occurrence, and the prediction of Calchas that in the tenth year of the siege Troy would be taken. Being now reminded of it, they were filled with fresh hope and courage, for the tenth year had come, and the end of the contest was not far off, which was to be for them a great victory, as the soothsayer had declared. "Therefore, brave Greeks," said Ulysses, after telling the story, "since the prophecy is so near its fulfillment, let us all remain here until we have captured the city of Priam."

The venerable Nestor and King Agamemnon then addressed the troops, after which they all went to their tents and ships to prepare for battle. They began by making the customary sacrifices to the gods, Agamemnon offered up a fat ox five years old. Homer fully describes how this was done. First the king and his chiefs stood around the ox, holding pounded barley cakes in their upraised hands, and praying to Jupiter to grant them victory in the approaching battle. After the prayer the ox was killed, and the carcass cut into pieces. Portions of the flesh were then burned on leafless billets, while other portions were roasted for the banquet which followed.

After the banquet the loud-voiced heralds summoned all the warriors and their followers to assemble. Immediately they came from their ships and tents, and then, on the advice of Nestor, there was a review of the whole army. The azure-eyed Minerva moved amongst them, bearing in her hand the ægis, or shield of Jupiter, from which hung a hundred golden fringes, each "worth a hundred oxen in price." She went through the hosts of the Greeks encouraging them to fight bravely, and so they were now more eager for battle than to return to their native land.

It is at this part of his story—the review of the forces—that Homer gives the remarkable account known as the "Catalogue of the Ships." In it he tells the names of all the Greek kings and princes and chiefs, the Grecian states from which they came, and the number of ships which each brought to the war. To do this was no easy task, and so the poet, before undertaking it, again seeks the aid of the Muses:

The allies and leaders of the Trojans are also named and described in the "Catalogue of the Ships," for they too were marshaling their forces within the city. From their walls they had observed the movements of the Greeks, and, moreover, Jupiter had sent down his swift-footed messenger, Iʹris, to bid them get ready for battle. The goddess found Priam and Hector and others of the chiefs of Troy sitting in council, and she told them of the vast host of the Greeks that was just then marching towards the city.

Hector promptly obeyed the command of the goddess. Dismissing the council, he and the other chiefs at once placed themselves at the head of their troops and marched forth through the gates into the plain.

VII. THE COMBAT BETWEEN MENELAUS AND PARIS.

The two great armies, now in battle array on the plain before the city walls, began to advance towards each other. The Trojans moved along with great clatter, which Homer compares to the noise of flocks of cranes:

The Greeks, on the other hand, advanced in deep silence.

As soon as the armies approached each other, almost front to front, Paris rushed forward from the Trojan lines, and challenged the Greeks to send their bravest warrior to fight him in simple combat. In appearance he was beautiful as a god. Over his shoulders he wore a panther's skin. His weapons were a bow, a sword, and two spears tipped with brass, which he brandished in his hands. The challenge was speedily answered by Menelaus, who bounded from his chariot the moment he beheld Paris, rejoicing that at last the time had come to have revenge on the man who had so greatly wronged him.

But when Paris saw who it was that had come forth to fight him, he was seized with a great fear, and he shrank back into the ranks of his companions.

Though Paris was really a brave man, his feeling of his own guilt and the sight of Menelaus, whom he had injured, made him a coward for the moment, and so he fled from before the face of the enraged king of Sparta. The noble Hector was deeply vexed at seeing his brother's flight, and in angry words upbraided him for his shameful conduct.

"Better would it have been," said he, "if you had never been born than thus to bring disgrace upon us all. Well may the Greeks laugh at finding that you, whom they supposed to be a hero, possess neither spirit nor courage. You have brought evil on your father, your city, and your people, by carrying away a beautiful woman from her husband, yet you now fear to meet that warrior in battle. The Trojans are but a weak-minded race, else they would have long since given you the death you deserve."

Paris admitted that his brother's rebuke was just, and he now declared that he was willing to meet Menelaus in single combat, Helen and her treasures to be the prize of the victor.

Hector rejoiced at his brother's words, and, immediately going forward into the center of the open space between the two armies, he spoke in a loud voice to the Greeks and Trojans, telling them of the proposal which Paris had made. The brave Menelaus heard the challenge with delight, and promptly accepted it.

The Greeks and Trojans were happy at the hope thus offered of a speedy end to the war. Hector sent for King Priam, that he and Agamemnon and the other leaders on both sides might declare their approval of the proposed conditions, and pledge themselves in the presence of both armies to abide by the result of the combat between the two heroes. Just then the Trojan monarch was seated on one of the watchtowers of the walls, looking down on the plain where the great hosts were assembled. With him were several of his venerable chiefs, now too old to take part in fighting.

While they sat there the beautiful Helen came out from the palace to witness the approaching conflict. She had been told of it by the messenger Iris, who, descending from heaven, and taking the form of La-odʹi-ce, one of Priam's daughters, appeared to Helen in her chamber. There she was busy at her loom, making in golden tapestry a representation of some of the great events of the war. In those days, as we read in many parts of Homer, the noblest ladies, even queens and their daughters, did not think it beneath them to work at spinning and weaving and other useful occupations, and so Helen was employed when Iris came to tell her that Paris and Menelaus were about to fight for her and her treasure.

From her spinning Helen rose up and went to the walls to view the combat. As she came near the place where Priam sat, even the venerable chiefs were compelled to admire her wondrous beauty. "Fair as the immortal goddesses she is," said they; "yet much better would it be if she would return to her own country, and not remain here to bring ruin upon us and our children." But Priam called to her to sit by his side, and said to her:

Then King Priam asked Helen to name for him some of the Greek leaders whom he saw before him, not far from the city walls.

"Who is that tall and gallant hero," he asked, "who seems like unto a king? Never have I beheld a man so graceful, nor so venerable." "Revered and honored father," answered Helen, "would that death had taken me before I left my husband and home to come with your son hither, but the Fates did not will it so, therefore am I here. That hero whom you see is the wide-ruling Agamemnon, the son of Atreus, both a good king and a brave warrior, and once my brother-in-law."

"O happy Agamemnon," exclaimed Priam, "fortunate in ruling over so mighty a host! But who is this other chief, less in height than Agamemnon, though broader in the shoulders? His arms lie on the ground, while he himself moves from rank to rank like a thick-fleeced ram which wanders through a great flock of sheep."

"That," said Helen, "is the wise Ulysses, man of many arts. Though nursed in a rugged island, yet is he skilled in all kinds of stratagem and prudent counsel." Ajax and Idomeneus were next noticed by King Priam,—Ajax the mighty, who overtopped the Argives by his head and shoulders, and Idomeneus the valiant king of Crete. Helen knew them well, for she had seen them at her Spartan home.

But at this point the heralds sent by Hector came to tell Priam that he was wanted on the plain below to approve the terms of the challenge. Immediately the king, descending from the ramparts, mounted his chariot, accompanied by his wise counselor, Antenor. They drove through the Scæan Gate into the space between both armies, and there, with the ceremonies usual on such occasions, a solemn league was formed between the two monarchs. First, they mixed in a bowl wine brought by both parties. This was an emblem of reconciliation. Next, water was poured on the hands of the kings, after which Agamemnon cut with his dagger hairs from the heads of three lambs. These were divided among the chiefs on both sides, so that all might be bound by the pledge about to be made. Then Agamemnon, stretching forth his hands, prayed thus aloud:

"O father Jupiter, most glorious, most mighty, and thou, O Sun, who beholdest all things, and ye rivers, and thou earth, and ye in the regions of the dead that punish those who swear false oaths, be ye witnesses of this league. If, on the one hand, Paris slay Menelaus, let him keep Helen and all her possessions, and let us return home in our ships. But if, on the contrary, Menelaus slay Paris, let the Trojans restore Helen and all her treasures, and pay a fine to the Argives such as may be just."

Then the lambs were sacrificed, and the kings drank of the mixed wine. Some of it was also poured on the earth, while the Greeks and Trojans joined in praying that terrible punishment might be sent upon any person who should violate the league:

Such was the league formed between the kings and chiefs of the two great armies. Priam then went back to the city, for he could not bear to witness a conflict in which his son might be slain. Lots were now drawn to decide which of the warriors should cast his spear first. Paris won, and immediately the champions, putting on their armor and taking up their weapons, advanced into the middle of the ground that Hector and Ulysses had measured out for the combat.

Then the fight began. Paris hurled his javelin, but Menelaus warded off the blow with his strong brazen shield. In his turn the Spartan king poised his long spear for a throw at his enemy. At the same time he prayed to Jupiter to give him strength and victory:

Then Menelaus cast his spear. It pierced the shield and corselet of Paris, and might have made a fatal wound had he not bent himself sideways, and so escaped the full force of the weapon. Instantly Menelaus rushed forward, sword in hand, and dealt a powerful blow at his enemy's head. This time Paris was saved by the brazen helmet he wore, for when Menelaus struck it, the blade of his sword broke in pieces.

Angry at his ill luck, the Spartan warrior seized his foe by the horsehair crest of his helmet, and began to drag him towards the Grecian lines; but at this point Venus came to the aid of her favorite. Standing unseen beside him, she broke the helmet strap under his chin, and thus released him from the grasp of the wrathful Menelaus. Then she cast a thick mist around the Trojan prince, and, carrying him off to the city, set him down in his chamber, within his own palace. The goddess also conducted Helen to the palace, from the watchtower in which, after her conversation with Priam, she had remained to witness the combat on the plain. As soon as Helen beheld Paris she spoke to him in harsh words:

Meanwhile the Spartan king, furious as a lion, paced up and down the field searching for Paris, but not even the Trojans could tell where he was. If he were amongst them they would not have concealed him, for they loved him not, knowing that he was the cause of all the sufferings which the long war had brought upon them.

Paris having disappeared from the field, the Greeks claimed the victory for their champion, and Agamemnon called upon the Trojans to give up Helen and her treasures, in accordance with the conditions of the league. But the gods did not thus will it. The Fates had decreed the destruction of Troy, and so the war could not have a peaceful ending. Besides, the Greeks were doomed to suffer as Jupiter had promised Thetis, because of the wrong that had been done to Achilles. Therefore, after the matter had been discussed in a council of the gods in their golden palace on Olympus, Minerva was sent down to urge the Trojans to attack the Greeks, so that the league might be broken, and the war renewed. According to the custom of heavenly messengers in such cases, the goddess took the form of La-odʹo-cus, son of Antenor. Then, approaching Panʹda-rus, a famous archer of the Trojan allies, she persuaded him to aim an arrow at Menelaus.

"Great honor," she said, "you will have from all the Trojans, if you slay the son of Atreus, and from Paris you may expect splendid gifts."

But Minerva, being friendly to the Greeks, did not really wish that Menelaus should be killed; therefore, when Pandarus bent his bow and with true aim let fly his arrow, she took care to turn the deadly weapon aside.

Nevertheless the arrow pierced the Spartan king's belt and made a slight wound, but the skillful surgeon, Ma-chaʹon, son of the famous physician, Æsculapius, stanched the blood and applied soothing balsams which his father had taught him to use.

The league being thus broken by the treacherous act of Pandarus, both sides at once prepared for battle. Agamemnon went on foot through his army, speaking words of praise to the chiefs, whom he found active in marshaling and encouraging their men. "Father Jupiter," he said, "will not help those Trojans who have so basely broken their solemn pledges. When we have taken their city we shall carry away rich spoils in our ships." Of all the leaders none arranged and directed his troops more wisely than the venerable Nestor.

Then he gave strict orders to the charioteers, warning them not to trust too much to their valor, or rashly advance in front of their comrades.

VIII. THE FIRST GREAT BATTLE.

Nearly three books of the Iliad are occupied in telling about the battle that now followed, though it lasted only one day. But it was a fierce and mighty conflict in which many brave warriors fought and fell.

All the chiefs of both armies took part in this battle, except Achilles, who still remained inactive at his ships, "indignant for the sake of the fair-haired Briseis." The heroes of the day on the Trojan side were Hector and Æneas. Of the Greeks (also sometimes called A-chaʹians) none performed so many feats of valor as Diomede (or Diomed), also called Ty-diʹdes, from the name of his father, Tyʹdeus. He was the particular favorite of Minerva, who caused a bright light to shine from his shield and helmet, which made him a striking figure in the field, and very terrible to the enemy.

Diomede slew many brave warriors, and often, breaking through the close ranks of the Trojans, drove them back towards their walls, before he himself was smitten with an arrow sent flying at him by the archer Pandarus. The weapon pierced his shoulder right through, and the blood came streaming down his armor. Then Pandarus shouted to his comrades to advance, boasting that now the bravest of the Greeks was fatally wounded. But Diomede prayed to Minerva for aid, and his prayer was heard. Immediately the goddess appeared and stood beside him, and in an instant healed his wound. Then she encouraged him, saying: "Henceforth fight with confidence, O Diomede. I have given you great strength. I have also removed from your eyes the mortal mists which heretofore were upon them, so that now you may know gods from men. Beware, however, of using your weapons against any god, unless Venus should come into the battle. Her I desire and command you to wound."

With fresh courage and increased fury Diomede again rushed into the conflict, striking down a Trojan with every blow of his huge sword. Æneas, noticing his exploits, hastily sought out Pandarus and begged him to aim an arrow at the man who was thus destroying their ranks.

"That man," said Pandarus, "very much resembles the warlike son of Tydeus, and if it be he, some god is surely at his side to protect him, for only a little ago I smote him in the shoulder, and I thought I had sent him to Pluto's kingdom. Of small use it seems is this bow of mine. Already I have aimed at two chiefs, Menelaus and Diomede, and wounded both, but I have only roused them the more to heroic deeds."

But Æneas made the great archer try his skill once more. Taking Pandarus with him in his own chariot, he drove rapidly to where Diomede was dealing death amongst the Trojans with his terrible sword. Sthenʹe-lus, the companion and charioteer of Diomede, saw them coming, and he advised his friend to retreat, and not risk his life in a contest with two such heroes as Æneas and Pandarus, one the son of a goddess, and the other excelling all men in the use of the bow. But Diomede sternly refused to retire from the conflict. Nor would he even consent to mount his chariot as Sthenelus urged him to do.

"As I am," said he, "I shall advance against them, for Minerva has made me fearless. And if it be my fortune to slay both, do you, Sthenelus, seize the horses of Æneas and drive them into the ranks of the Greeks. Valuable prizes they will be, for they are of that heavenly breed which Jupiter gave to King Tros as the price of his son Ganymede."

But now the chariot of Æneas was close at hand. This time Pandarus used his spear, which he launched with great force. It struck the shield of Diomede and, piercing it through, fixed itself in his breastplate. With a shout of joy Pandarus exclaimed, "Now, I think, I have given you your death wound."

"Not so," replied the son of Tydeus, "thou hast missed thy aim, but one of you, at least, shall die." As he spoke he hurled his lance. Directed by Minerva, the weapon flew right into the face of the unfortunate Pandarus, striking him lifeless to the earth.

Instantly Æneas leaped down from his chariot, with his shield and spear, to defend the body of his heroic comrade against being despoiled by the Greeks. This was one of the customs of war in those times. When a hero was slain in battle the enemy carried off his arms and armor as trophies of victory. But Æneas did his best to protect the corpse of his fallen friend from being thus dishonored.

But Diomede, braver than the rest, took up a great stone and hurled it at Æneas.

It struck the Trojan hero on the hip, tearing the flesh and crushing the joint. He sank upon his knees, a dark mist covering his eyes. And now Æneas would have perished by the sword of the furious Diomede had not his mother, Venus, come quickly to his aid. With her shining robe the goddess shielded his body, and spreading her arms about him she bore him away from the battle. Then Sthenelus, not forgetting the bidding of his friend, rushed forward, and, seizing the fleet steeds of the Dardan prince, drove them off to the Grecian camp.

But Diomede went in pursuit of Venus. He had seen and recognized her as she descended on the field, Minerva having given him power of sight to know gods from men. The goddess also, as we have seen, commanded him to wound Venus should she come into the field. Diomede, therefore, when he had overtaken Venus, as she was bearing away the Trojan hero, thrust at her with his lance, and pierced the skin of her tender hand. From the wound out gushed the Iʹchor, as the blood of the gods was called.

Crying aloud with pain, the goddess dropped her son from her arms, but Apollo enveloped him in a thick cloud, thus saving him from the wrath of the furious Greeks. Meanwhile the swift-footed Iris hastened down from heaven to the aid of Venus, whom she conducted to where Mars sat on the left of the battlefield, watching the conflict. At the entreaty of his wounded sister.

There the goddess was affectionately received by her mother, Di-oʹne, who begged her to be patient, reminding her that in times past others of the gods had suffered by the hands of men. Mars, she said, was chained in a brazen cell for fifteen months by the giants Oʹtus and Eph-i-alʹtes, and he would perhaps have perished there but that Mercury set him free by stealing into the cell, and slipping the chains out of the rings to which they were fastened. Juno herself, and Pluto, the god of Hades, were wounded by Hercules. "As for this son of Tydeus," said Dione, "who has dared to war upon an immortal, he shall be punished for his crime."

Dione then wiped the ichor from the hand of Venus, and at her touch the wound healed and the pain ceased.

Meanwhile, on the plain before Troy Diomede still eagerly pursued Æneas, though knowing that the hero was under divine protection. Thrice did he rush on, and thrice did Apollo drive him back, but when he made the fourth attempt,

Diomede shrank back, fearing the wrath of the Far-darter, and Apollo bore Æneas away, and set him down in his own temple in sacred Perʹga-mus, the citadel of Troy. There Diana and La-toʹna, the mother of Apollo, healed his wound and restored his health and strength. Then Apollo begged Mars to assist the Trojans in the battle, and particularly to drive from the field the impious son of Tydeus, who had dared to attack the immortals with his spear, and would now fight even with Jupiter himself. The god of war consented, and assuming the form of Acʹa-mas, a Thracian leader, he went through the Trojan ranks encouraging the chiefs to fight bravely.