The fair-haired Menelaus answered thus:— “O wonder! Then the son of one most dear, Who for my sake so oft has braved and borne The conflicts of the battlefield, hath come Beneath my roof. I thought that I should greet His father with a warmer welcome here Than any other of the Argive race, When Jove the Olympian Thunderer should grant A safe return to us across the deep In our good ships. I would have founded here For him a city in Argos, and have built Dwellings, and would have brought from Ithaca Him and his son, and all his wealth and all His people. To this end I would have caused Some neighboring district where my sway is owned To be dispeopled. Dwelling here we oft Should then have met each other, and no cause Would e’er have parted us, two faithful friends Delighting in each other, till at last Came Death’s black cloud to wrap us in its shade. A god, no doubt, hath seen in this a good Too great for us, and thus to him alone, Unhappy man! denied a safe return.”
He spake; his words awoke in every heart Grief for the absent hero’s sake. Then wept The Argive Helen, child of Jove; then wept Telemachus; nor tearless were the eyes Of Nestor’s son, for to his mind arose The memory of the good Antilochus, Slain by the bright Aurora’s eminent son; Of him he thought, and spake these winged words:—
“O son of Atreus! aged Nestor saith, When in his palace we discourse of thee And ask each other’s thought, that thou art wise Beyond all other men. Now, if thou mayst, Indulge me, for not willingly I weep Thus at the evening feast, and soon will Morn, Child of the Dawn, appear. I do not blame This sorrow for whoever meets his fate And dies; the only honors we can pay To those unhappy mortals is to shred Our locks away, and wet our cheeks with tears. I lost a brother, not the least in worth Among the Argives, whom thou must have seen. I knew him not: I never saw his face; Yet is it said Antilochus excelled The others; swift of foot, and brave in war.”
The fair-haired Menelaus answered him:— “Since thou my friend hast spoken thus, as one Discreet in word and deed, of riper years Than thou,