“Dear lady, come and see the Trojan knights And brazen mailed Achaians doing things To wonder at. They who, in this sad war, Eager to slay each other, lately met In murderous combat on the field, are now Seated in silence, and the war hath ceased. They lean upon their shields, their massive spears Are near them, planted in the ground upright. Paris, and Menelaus, loved of Mars, With their long lances will contend for thee, And thou wilt be declared the victor’s spouse.”
She said, and in the heart of Helen woke Dear recollections of her former spouse And of her home and kindred. Instantly She left her chamber, robed and veiled in white. And shedding tender tears; yet not alone, For with her went two maidens—Aethra, child Of Pitheus, and the large-eyed Clymenè. Straight to the Scaean gates they walked, by which Panthoüs, Priam, and Thymoetes sat, Lampus and Clytius, Hicetaon sprung From Mars, Antenor and Ucalegon, Two sages—elders of the people all. Beside the gates they sat, unapt, through age, For tasks of war, but men of fluent speech, Like the cicadas that