He spake, and both the hosts in silence heard. Then Menelaus, great in battle, said:—
“Now hear me also—me whose spirit feels The wrong most keenly. I propose that now The Greeks and Trojans separate reconciled, For greatly have ye suffered for the sake Of this my quarrel, and the original fault Of Paris. Whomsoever fate ordains To perish, let him die; but let the rest Be from this moment reconciled, and part. And bring an offering of two lambs—one white, The other black—to Earth and to the Sun, And we ourselves will offer one to Jove. And be the mighty Priam here, that he May sanction this our compact—for his sons Are arrogant and faithless—lest some hand Wickedly break the covenant of Jove. The younger men are of a fickle mood; But when an elder shares the act he looks Both to the past and future, and provides What is most fitting and the best for all.”
He spake, and both the Greeks and Trojans heard His words with joy, and hoped the hour was come To end the hard-fought war. They reined their steeds Back to the ranks, alighted, and put off Their armor, which they laid upon the ground Near them in piles, with little space between.
Then Hector sent two heralds forth with speed Into the town, to bring the lambs and call King Priam. Meanwhile Agamemnon bade Talthybius seek the hollow ships and find A lamb for the altar. He obeyed the words Of noble Agamemnon, king of men.
Meanwhile to white-armed Helen Iris came A messenger. She took a form that seemed Laodice, the sister of Paris, whom Antenor’s son, King Helicaon, wed— Fairest of Priam’s daughters. She drew near To Helen, in the palace, weaving there An ample web, a shining double-robe, Whereon were many conflicts fairly wrought, Endured by the horse-taming sons of Troy And brazen-mailed Achaians for her sake Upon the field of Mars. Beside her stood Swift-footed Iris, and addressed her thus:—