He spake, and Agamemnon, king of men, Followed the counsel. Instantly he bade The loud-voiced herald summon to the war The long-haired Argives. At the call they came, Quickly they came together, and the kings, Nurslings of Jupiter, who stood beside Atrides, hastened through the crowd to form The army into ranks. Among them walked The blue-eyed Pallas, bearing on her arm The priceless aegis, ever fair and new, And undecaying; from its edge there hung A hundred golden fringes, fairly wrought, And every fringe might buy a hecatomb. With this and fierce, defiant looks she passed Through all the Achaian host, and made their hearts Impatient for the march and strong to endure The combat without pause⁠—for now the war Seemed to them dearer than the wished return, In their good galleys, to the land they loved.