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"That man is Laertes' son, crafty Odysseus, Helen, child of Zeus, then answered Priam: Yes, a woolly ram, that's what he seems to me." Moving through large white multitudes of sheep. Marching through men's ranks just like a ram There on the fertile earth, but he strides on, "Dear child, come tell me who this man is, 210 The old man then spied Odysseus and asked: Were fewer than these bright-eyed Achaeans." With all their horses, thousands of them,Ĭamped by the banks of the Sangarius river.Ĭame on against them. That vine-rich land, where I saw Phrygian troops "Son of Atreus, blessed by the gods, fortune's child,ĭivinely favoured, many long-haired Achaeans Priam gazed in wonder at Agamemnon, saying: Son of Atreus, a good king, fine fighter, My married home, companions, darling child, 190Īnd friends my age. When I came here with your son, leaving behind "My dear father-in-law, whom I respect and honour, Then Helen, goddess among women, said to Priam: Such a striking man, so noble, so like a king."

Over there, that impressive, strong Achaean? They drove me to wage this wretched war 180Īgainst Achaeans. So you can see your first husband, your friends, Let her not stay here, a blight on us, our children." She's beautiful.īut nonetheless let her go back with the ships.

Have endured great suffering a long time 170 They commented softly to each other-their words had wings: Like cicadas perched up on a forest branch, chirping They sat there, on the tower, these Trojan elders, Their fighting days were finished, but they all spoke well. With Priam and his entourage-Panthous, Thymoetes, Oucalegaon and Antenor, both prudent men,Įlder statesmen, sat at the Scaean Gates, 160 Covering herself with a white shawl, she left the house, shedding tears. The man who triumphs will call you his dear wife." With these words the goddess set in Helen's heart sweet longing for her former husband, city, parents. Alexander and war-loving Menelaus are going to fight for you with their long spears. Horse-taming Trojans and bronze-clad Achaeans, men who earlier were fighting one another in wretched war out there on the plain, both keen for war's destruction, are sitting still. Standing near by, swift-footed Iris said: "Come here, dear girl. She found Helen in her room, weaving a large cloth, a double purple cloak, creating pictures of the many battle scenes between horse-taming Trojans and bronze-clad Achaeans, wars they suffered for her sake at the hands of Ares. Her name was Laodice, of all Priam's daughters the most beautiful.

Then Iris came as messenger to white-armed Helen, taking on the image of her sister-in-law, wife of Antenor's son, fine Helicaon.