Came down from the high heaven, and took his seat On many-fountained Ida. In his grasp He held a thunderbolt, and this command He gave to Iris of the golden wings:⁠—

“Haste, Iris fleet of wing, and bear my words To Hector:⁠—While he sees the king of men, Atrides, in the van and dealing death Among the ranks of warriors, let him still Give way, encouraging his men to hold Unflinching battle with the enemy. But when Atrides, wounded by a spear Or arrow, shall ascend his chariot, then Will I nerve Hector’s arm with strength to slay Until he come to the good ships of Greece, And the sun set, and hallowed night come down.”

He spake; and she, whose feet are like the wind In swiftness, heeded the command, and flew From Ida’s summit to the sacred town Of Troy, and found the noble Hector, son Of warlike Priam, standing mid the steeds And the strong chariots, and, approaching, said:⁠—