The Legend of Achilles. Carl Friedrich Becker

had already disappeared. It was the friendly goddess Aphrodite who had saved him.

      While the Greeks were loudly acclaiming the victor, Jupiter put it into the heart of a Trojan to shoot an arrow at Menelaus. Pandarus was the man’s name and Athena herself had put the arrow into his hands just as Menelaus passed under the city wall. But the wound was not dangerous and was quickly dressed by Machaon with a salve which he always carried about him. The victorious cries of the Achaians now changed to cries of rage. All condemned the treacherous act and called down the vengeance of Jupiter upon the Trojan people.

      Agamemnon assembled his cohorts once more and hastened among the ranks encouraging, threatening. Brave Idomeneus he found ready armed amongst his Cretans. Next he mustered the tribes under command of the two Ajaxes, which were ready to go into battle. The next company that he met were the Pylians, under the command of young princes whom old Nestor directed. The old man was even now going about among the men, restraining the horsemen and placing the weaker in the middle, with the more courageous and experienced at the front and on the sides, and giving much valuable advice to the young leaders. Well pleased, Agamemnon hurried on to the Athenians and Cephallenians, led by Menestheus and Ulysses. He found the two chieftains conversing unconcernedly together and called to them: “Is this the interest ye take in the war? All the rest are armed and ready and would ye be left behind? Ye are always foremost at the banquet and now ye look on while ten companies of Achaians enter the battlefield before ye.”

      RESCUE OF PARIS BY APHRODITE

      Ulysses answered, darkly frowning: “What words are these, oh ruler? When hast thou ever found us tardy in battle? When the fight begins we shall not be far away, and thou shalt see the father of Telemachus at the front amongst the Trojan horsemen. Those were empty words thou spakest!” Smiling at his anger Agamemnon answered: “Noble son of Laërtes, thou needest no advice nor blame from me, for we are of one mind. Let it be forgotten if I have spoken harshly.”

      He hastened to the next company, where he found Diomedes and Sthenelus standing together in their chariot, the former with sad and disheartened mien. “What, son of Tydeus!” he said to him, “thou seemest disturbed and art trembling. Thy noble father knew no fear. What deeds that man accomplished! His son is less heroic in battle, though more ready of tongue.”

      “Speak not falsely, Atride,” answered Sthenelus, as Diomedes bowed respectfully under the king’s reproaches. “We boast ourselves braver than our fathers, for they led many foot-soldiers and horsemen to Thebes and failed to take the city, while we stormed it with but few followers. Do not praise our fathers at our expense.”

      “Silence, friend,” interrupted Diomedes. “I do not blame Agamemnon for inciting the Achaians to battle. The fame and gain will be his if the war is ended gloriously, and his the disgrace and ruin should the Achaians be put to flight.”

      With these words he sprang from the chariot, so that his bronze harness rattled, and began to arm himself for the fight. Agamemnon passed on. While he was mustering the right wing, the left advanced to the attack. They moved slowly and silently foward, enveloped in a cloud of dust. At last Achaians and Trojans met; shield rang against shield, lance broke lance. Now loud shouts arose, and mingled with the battle cries were heard the groans of the wounded and dying being dragged away by their friends, that they might not be trampled upon or subjected to the cruelties of the enemy. Above the din of battle rose the commands of the chieftains and the cries of the soldiers. Swords hissed through the air, spears whistled, shields rang against one another.

      Hector, seeing his companions give way, called to them: “Forward, Trojan horsemen! Come, do not leave the field to the Argives. They are made neither of iron nor stone that our spears should rebound from them, and Achilles, the great hero, no longer fights in their ranks.”

      The Trojans took courage at this and renewed the battle. Diores, the Greek, was stretched senseless upon the ground by a heavy stone, and just as his conqueror, the Trojan Peirus, had given him the deathblow with his spear and was about to strip his victim, Thoas the Ætolian rushed upon him with his sword and he fell across the body of Diores. But Thoas was obliged to flee in turn, for the Trojans ran up to carry off Peirus, and he had to seek other booty. It had been a hot day and horse and rider were panting.