But when the graceful Paris saw the chief Come toward him from the foremost ranks, his heart Was troubled, and he turned and passed among His fellow-warriors and avoided death. As one, who meets within a mountain glade A serpent, starts aside with sudden fright, And takes the backward way with trembling limbs And cheeks all white⁠—the graceful Paris thus Before the son of Atreus shrank in fear, And mingled with the high-souled sons of Troy. Hector beheld and thus upbraided him Harshly: “O luckless Paris, nobly formed, Yet woman-follower and seducer! Thou Shouldst never have been born, or else at best Have died unwedded; better were it far, Than thus to be a scandal and a scorn To all who look on thee. The long-haired Greeks, How they will laugh, who for thy gallant looks Deemed thee a hero, when there dwells in thee No spirit and no courage? Wast thou such When, crossing the great deep in thy stanch ships With chosen comrades, thou didst make thy way Among a stranger-people and bear off A beautiful woman from that distant land,