But the aged King Priam addressed her kindly.  “Dear Daughter! come hither, and see thy former husband and kinsmen!  I do not blame thee, but the Gods, and especially Venus, by whom this sad war has been brought upon us.  But tell me who is that huge Achaian warrior?  Many are taller than he, but I have never seen a man so stately and royal.”  And the fair Helen, the daughter of Zeus, replied, “O venerable Father of my lord! would that death had been my lot, when I followed thy son to Troy, and left my home and husband, and my dear young daughter, and all the loved companions of my girlhood!  But that was not to be, and therefore I mourn and weep.  The man of whom thou speakest is Atreides, the wide-ruling monarch Agamemnon, who is both a stately king and a doughty warrior; he is the brother of Menelaus my husband—­shameless thing that I am!”

Then the aged Priam asked her about the other Achaian chiefs,—­Ulysses, and the gigantic Ajax, the bulwark of the host, and the godlike Idomeneus; and the lovely Helen told him all, and said, “I see all the other bright-eyed Achaians, and could tell their names; but two I see not, even mine own brothers, horse-taming Castor and the boxer Pollux; peradventure they came not with the Achaians; or if they came, they fight not, for fear of the revilings which men heap on me—­shameless that I am!” She knew not that the earth already covered them, in Lacedaemon, their dear native land.  Now the aged Priam drove out through the Scaean Gate, with Antenor by his side; and, when he had come to the Achaians and the Trojans, he descended from his chariot, and stood on the Earth, the bounteous grain-giver.  Then Agamemnon, the king of men, and Ulysses, the man of many devices, rose up; and the stately heralds brought the holy oath-offerings to the gods, and mixed the ruddy wine in the mixing-bowl, from which they gave portions to the Achaian and the Trojan chiefs.  Agamemnon raised his hands to heaven and prayed, “O Father Zeus, most great and glorious!  O Sun, who seest and hearest all things!  O ye Rivers, and thou, Mother Earth! be ye all witnesses to our oaths!  If Paris shall kill Menelaus, then let him keep Helen and all her possessions; but if the yellow-haired Menelaus slay Paris, then let the Trojans give back Helen and her treasures!”

Then the lordly Agamemnon slew the lambs, and prayed again to Zeus.  But Priam spake unto the Achaians and the Trojans.  “I verily will return to breezy Ilium; for I cannot bear to see my own son engaged in deadly conflict with the war-loving Menelaus.”

Then the goodly Paris, lord of the fair-haired Helen, put on his beautiful armor.  First he set the splendid greaves upon his legs, fastened round the ankles with silver clasps; then he donned the corslet, which he had borrowed from his brother Lycaon; and he threw over his shoulders the silver-studded sword-belt with his sword, and took up his mighty shield; and upon his beauteous head he placed the helmet, with a horsehair crest, and the plume nodded terribly; and he took a strong spear in his hand.