Nor waited Paris in his lofty halls, But when he had put on his glorious arms, Glittering with brass, he traversed with quick steps The city; and as when some courser, fed With barley in the stall, and wont to bathe In some smooth-flowing river, having snapped His halter, gayly scampers o’er the plain, And in the pride of beauty bears aloft His head, and gives his tossing mane to stream Upon his shoulders, while his flying feet Bear him to where the mares are wont to graze⁠— So came the son of Priam⁠—Paris⁠—down From lofty Pergamus in glittering arms, And, glorious as the sun, held on his way Exulting and with rapid feet. He found His noble brother Hector as he turned To leave the place in which his wife and he Had talked together. Alexander then⁠— Of godlike form⁠—addressed his brother thus:⁠—

“My elder brother! I have kept thee here Waiting, I fear, for me, though much in haste, And came less quickly than thou didst desire.”