Tales of Troy
Andrew Lang

Part 2 out of 2

"So you were the old beggar," said young Thrasymedes.

"Yes," said Ulysses, "and when next you beat a beggar, Thrasymedes,
do not strike so hard and so long."

That night all the Greeks were full of hope, for now they had the
Luck of Troy, but the Trojans were in despair, and guessed that the
beggar was the thief, and that Ulysses had been the beggar. The
priestess, Theano, could tell them nothing; they found her, with
the extinguished torch drooping in her hand, asleep, as she sat on
the step of the altar, and she never woke again.


Ulysses thought much and often of Helen, without whose kindness he
could not have saved the Greeks by stealing the Luck of Troy. He
saw that, though she remained as beautiful as when the princes all
sought her hand, she was most unhappy, knowing herself to be the
cause of so much misery, and fearing what the future might bring.
Ulysses told nobody about the secret which she had let fall, the
coming of the Amazons.

The Amazons were a race of warlike maids, who lived far away on the
banks of the river Thermodon. They had fought against Troy in
former times, and one of the great hill-graves on the plain of Troy
covered the ashes of an Amazon, swift-footed Myrine. People
believed that they were the daughters of the God of War, and they
were reckoned equal in battle to the bravest men. Their young
Queen, Penthesilea, had two reasons for coming to fight at Troy:
one was her ambition to win renown, and the other her sleepless
sorrow for having accidentally killed her sister, Hippolyte, when
hunting. The spear which she threw at a stag struck Hippolyte and
slew her, and Penthesilea cared no longer for her own life, and
desired to fall gloriously in battle. So Penthesilea and her
bodyguard of twelve Amazons set forth from the wide streams of
Thermodon, and rode into Troy. The story says that they did not
drive in chariots, like all the Greek and Trojan chiefs, but rode
horses, which must have been the manner of their country.

Penthesilea was the tallest and most beautiful of the Amazons, and
shone among her twelve maidens like the moon among the stars, or
the bright Dawn among the Hours which follow her chariot wheels.
The Trojans rejoiced when they beheld her, for she looked both
terrible and beautiful, with a frown on her brow, and fair shining
eyes, and a blush on her cheeks. To the Trojans she came like
Iris, the Rainbow, after a storm, and they gathered round her
cheering, and throwing flowers and kissing her stirrup, as the
people of Orleans welcomed Joan of Arc when she came to deliver
them. Even Priam was glad, as is a man long blind, when he has
been healed, and again looks upon the light of the sun. Priam held
a great feast, and gave to Penthesilea many beautiful gifts: cups
of gold, and embroideries, and a sword with a hilt of silver, and
she vowed that she would slay Achilles. But when Andromache, the
wife of Hector, heard her she said within herself, "Ah, unhappy
girl, what is this boast of thine! Thou hast not the strength to
fight the unconquerable son of Peleus, for if Hector could not slay
him, what chance hast thou? But the piled-up earth covers Hector!"

In the morning Penthesilea sprang up from sleep and put on her
glorious armour, with spear in hand, and sword at side, and bow and
quiver hung behind her back, and her great shield covering her side
from neck to stirrup, and mounted her horse, and galloped to the
plain. Beside her charged the twelve maidens of her bodyguard, and
all the company of Hector's brothers and kinsfolk. These headed
the Trojan lines, and they rushed towards the ships of the Greeks.

Then the Greeks asked each other, "Who is this that leads the
Trojans as Hector led them, surely some God rides in the van of the
charioteers!" Ulysses could have told them who the new leader of
the Trojans was, but it seems that he had not the heart to fight
against women, for his name is not mentioned in this day's battle.
So the two lines clashed, and the plain of Troy ran red with blood,
for Penthesilea slew Molios, and Persinoos, and Eilissos, and
Antiphates, and Lernos high of heart, and Hippalmos of the loud
warcry, and Haemonides, and strong Elasippus, while her maidens
Derinoe and Clonie slew each a chief of the Greeks. But Clonie
fell beneath the spear of Podarkes, whose hand Penthesilea cut off
with the sword, while Idomeneus speared the Amazon Bremousa, and
Meriones of Crete slew Evadre, and Diomede killed Alcibie and
Derimacheia in close fight with the sword, so the company of the
Twelve were thinned, the bodyguard of Penthesilea.

The Trojans and Greeks kept slaying each other, but Penthesilea
avenged her maidens, driving the ranks of Greece as a lioness
drives the cattle on the hills, for they could not stand before
her. Then she shouted, "Dogs! to-day shall you pay for the sorrows
of Priam! Where is Diomede, where is Achilles, where is Aias,
that, men say, are your bravest? Will none of them stand before my
spear?" Then she charged again, at the head of the Household of
Priam, brothers and kinsmen of Hector, and where they came the
Greeks fell like yellow leaves before the wind of autumn. The
white horse that Penthesilea rode, a gift from the wife of the
North Wind, flashed like lightning through a dark cloud among the
companies of the Greeks, and the chariots that followed the charge
of the Amazon rocked as they swept over the bodies of the slain.
Then the old Trojans, watching from the walls, cried: "This is no
mortal maiden but a Goddess, and to-day she will burn the ships of
the Greeks, and they will all perish in Troyland, and see Greece
never more again."

Now it so was that Aias and Achilles had not heard the din and the
cry of war, for both had gone to weep over the great new grave of
Patroclus. Penthesilea and the Trojans had driven back the Greeks
within their ditch, and they were hiding here and there among the
ships, and torches were blazing in men's hands to burn the ships,
as in the day of the valour of Hector: when Aias heard the din of
battle, and called to Achilles to make speed towards the ships.

So they ran swiftly to their huts, and armed themselves, and Aias
fell smiting and slaying upon the Trojans, but Achilles slew five
of the bodyguard of Penthesilea. She, beholding her maidens
fallen, rode straight against Aias and Achilles, like a dove
defying two falcons, and cast her spear, but it fell back blunted
from the glorious shield that the God had made for the son of
Peleus. Then she threw another spear at Aias, crying, "I am the
daughter of the God of War," but his armour kept out the spear, and
he and Achilles laughed aloud. Aias paid no more heed to the
Amazon, but rushed against the Trojan men; while Achilles raised
the heavy spear that none but he could throw, and drove it down
through breastplate and breast of Penthesilea, yet still her hand
grasped her sword-hilt. But, ere she could draw her sword,
Achilles speared her horse, and horse and rider fell, and died in
their fall.

There lay fair Penthesilea in the dust, like a tall poplar tree
that the wind has overthrown, and her helmet fell, and the Greeks
who gathered round marvelled to see her lie so beautiful in death,
like Artemis, the Goddess of the Woods, when she sleeps alone,
weary with hunting on the hills. Then the heart of Achilles was
pierced with pity and sorrow, thinking how she might have been his
wife in his own country, had he spared her, but he was never to see
pleasant Phthia, his native land, again. So Achilles stood and
wept over Penthesilea dead.

Now the Greeks, in pity and sorrow, held their hands, and did not
pursue the Trojans who had fled, nor did they strip the armour from
Penthesilea and her twelve maidens, but laid the bodies on biers,
and sent them back in peace to Priam. Then the Trojans burned
Penthesilea in the midst of her dead maidens, on a great pile of
dry wood, and placed their ashes in a golden casket, and buried
them all in the great hill-grave of Laomedon, an ancient King of
Troy, while the Greeks with lamentation buried them whom the Amazon
had slain.

The old men of Troy and the chiefs now held a council, and Priam
said that they must not yet despair, for, if they had lost many of
their bravest warriors, many of the Greeks had also fallen. Their
best plan was to fight only with arrows from the walls and towers,
till King Memnon came to their rescue with a great army of
Aethiopes. Now Memnon was the son of the bright Dawn, a beautiful
Goddess who had loved and married a mortal man, Tithonus. She had
asked Zeus, the chief of the Gods, to make her lover immortal, and
her prayer was granted. Tithonus could not die, but he began to
grow grey, and then white haired, with a long white beard, and very
weak, till nothing of him seemed to be left but his voice, always
feebly chattering like the grasshoppers on a summer day.

Memnon was the most beautiful of men, except Paris and Achilles,
and his home was in a country that borders on the land of
sunrising. There he was reared by the lily maidens called
Hesperides, till he came to his full strength, and commanded the
whole army of the Aethiopes. For their arrival Priam wished to
wait, but Polydamas advised that the Trojans should give back Helen
to the Greeks, with jewels twice as valuable as those which she had
brought from the house of Menelaus. Then Paris was very angry, and
said that Polydamas was a coward, for it was little to Paris that
Troy should be taken and burned in a month if for a month he could
keep Helen of the fair hands.

At length Memnon came, leading a great army of men who had nothing
white about them but the teeth, so fiercely the sun burned on them
in their own country. The Trojans had all the more hopes of Memnon
because, on his long journey from the land of sunrising, and the
river Oceanus that girdles the round world, he had been obliged to
cross the country of the Solymi. Now the Solymi were the fiercest
of men and rose up against Memnon, but he and his army fought them
for a whole day, and defeated them, and drove them to the hills.
When Memnon came, Priam gave him a great cup of gold, full of wine
to the brim, and Memnon drank the wine at one draught. But he did
not make great boasts of what he could do, like poor Penthesilea,
"for," said he, "whether I am a good man at arms will be known in
battle, where the strength of men is tried. So now let us turn to
sleep, for to wake and drink wine all through the night is an ill
beginning of war."

Then Priam praised his wisdom, and all men betook them to bed, but
the bright Dawn rose unwillingly next day, to throw light on the
battle where her son was to risk his fife. Then Memnon led out the
dark clouds of his men into the plain, and the Greeks foreboded
evil when they saw so great a new army of fresh and unwearied
warriors, but Achilles, leading them in his shining armour, gave
them courage. Memnon fell upon the left wing of the Greeks, and on
the men of Nestor, and first he slew Ereuthus, and then attacked
Nestor's young son, Antilochus, who, now that Patroclus had fallen,
was the dearest friend of Achilles. On him Memnon leaped, like a
lion on a kid, but Antilochus lifted a huge stone from the plain, a
pillar that had been set on the tomb of some great warrior long
ago, and the stone smote full on the helmet of Memnon, who reeled
beneath the stroke. But Memnon seized his heavy spear, and drove
it through shield and corselet of Antilochus, even into his heart,
and he fell and died beneath his father's eyes. Then Nestor in
great sorrow and anger strode across the body of Antilochus and
called to his other son, Thrasymedes, "Come and drive afar this man
that has slain thy brother, for if fear be in thy heart thou art no
son of mine, nor of the race of Periclymenus, who stood up in
battle even against the strong man Heracles!"

But Memnon was too strong for Thrasymedes, and drove him off, while
old Nestor himself charged sword in hand, though Memnon bade him
begone, for he was not minded to strike so aged a man, and Nestor
drew back, for he was weak with age. Then Memnon and his army
charged the Greeks, slaying and stripping the dead. But Nestor had
mounted his chariot and driven to Achilles, weeping, and imploring
him to come swiftly and save the body of Antilochus, and he sped to
meet Memnon, who lifted a great stone, the landmark of a field, and
drove it against the shield of the son of Peleus. But Achilles was
not shaken by the blow; he ran forward, and wounded Memnon over the
rim of his shield. Yet wounded as he was Memnon fought on and
struck his spear through the arm of Achilles, for the Greeks fought
with no sleeves of bronze to protect their arms.

Then Achilles drew his great sword, and flew on Memnon, and with
sword-strokes they lashed at each other on shield and helmet, and
the long horsehair crests of the helmets were shorn off, and flew
down the wind, and their shields rang terribly beneath the sword
strokes. They thrust at each others' throats between shield and
visor of the helmet, they smote at knee, and thrust at breast, and
the armour rang about their bodies, and the dust from beneath their
feet rose up in a cloud around them, like mist round the falls of a
great river in flood. So they fought, neither of them yielding a
step, till Achilles made so rapid a thrust that Memnon could not
parry it, and the bronze sword passed clean through his body
beneath the breast-bone, and he fell, and his armour clashed as he

Then Achilles, wounded as he was and weak from loss of blood, did
not stay to strip the golden armour of Memnon, but shouted his
warcry, and pressed on, for he hoped to enter the gate of Troy with
the fleeing Trojans, and all the Greeks followed after him. So
they pursued, slaying as they went, and the Scaean gate was choked
with the crowd of men, pursuing and pursued. In that hour would
the Greeks have entered Troy, and burned the city, and taken the
women captive, but Paris stood on the tower above the gate, and in
his mind was anger for the death of his brother Hector. He tried
the string of his bow, and found it frayed, for all day he had
showered his arrows on the Greeks; so he chose a new bowstring, and
fitted it, and strung the bow, and chose an arrow from his quiver,
and aimed at the ankle of Achilles, where it was bare beneath the
greave, or leg-guard of metal, that the God had fashioned for him.
Through the ankle flew the arrow, and Achilles wheeled round, weak
as he was, and stumbled, and fell, and the armour that the God had
wrought was defiled with dust and blood.

Then Achilles rose again, and cried: "What coward has smitten me
with a secret arrow from afar? Let him stand forth and meet me
with sword and spear!" So speaking he seized the shaft with his
strong hands and tore it out of the wound, and much blood gushed,
and darkness came over his eyes. Yet he staggered forward,
striking blindly, and smote Orythaon, a dear friend of Hector,
through the helmet, and others he smote, but now his force failed
him, and he leaned on his spear, and cried his warcry, and said,
"Cowards of Troy, ye shall not all escape my spear, dying as I am."
But as he spoke he fell, and all his armour rang around him, yet
the Trojans stood apart and watched; and as hunters watch a dying
lion not daring to go nigh him, so the Trojans stood in fear till
Achilles drew his latest breath. Then from the wall the Trojan
women raised a great cry of joy over him who had slain the noble
Hector: and thus was fulfilled the prophecy of Hector, that
Achilles should fall in the Scaean gateway, by the hand of Paris.

Then the best of the Trojans rushed forth from the gate to seize
the body of Achilles, and his glorious armour, but the Greeks were
as eager to carry the body to the ships that it might have due
burial. Round the dead Achilles men fought long and sore, and both
sides were mixed, Greeks and Trojans, so that men dared not shoot
arrows from the walls of Troy lest they should kill their own
friends. Paris, and Aeneas, and Glaucus, who had been the friend
of Sarpedon, led the Trojans, and Aias and Ulysses led the Greeks,
for we are not told that Agamemnon was fighting in this great
battle of the war. Now as angry wild bees flock round a man who is
taking their honeycombs, so the Trojans gathered round Aias,
striving to stab him, but he set his great shield in front, and
smote and slew all that came within reach of his spear. Ulysses,
too, struck down many, and though a spear was thrown and pierced
his leg near the knee he stood firm, protecting the body of
Achilles. At last Ulysses caught the body of Achilles by the
hands, and heaved it upon his back, and so limped towards the
ships, but Aias and the men of Aias followed, turning round if ever
the Trojans ventured to come near, and charging into the midst of
them. Thus very slowly they bore the dead Achilles across the
plain, through the bodies of the fallen and the blood, till they
met Nestor in his chariot and placed Achilles therein, and swiftly
Nestor drove to the ships.

There the women, weeping, washed Achilles' comely body, and laid
him on a bier with a great white mantle over him, and all the women
lamented and sang dirges, and the first was Briseis, who loved
Achilles better than her own country, and her father, and her
brothers whom he had slain in war. The Greek princes, too, stood
round the body, weeping and cutting off their long locks of yellow
hair, a token of grief and an offering to the dead.

Men say that forth from the sea came Thetis of the silver feet, the
mother of Achilles, with her ladies, the deathless maidens of the
waters. They rose up from their glassy chambers below the sea,
moving on, many and beautiful, like the waves on a summer day, and
their sweet song echoed along the shores, and fear came upon the
Greeks. Then they would have fled, but Nestor cried: "Hold, flee
not, young lords of the Achaeans! Lo, she that comes from the sea
is his mother, with the deathless maidens of the waters, to look on
the face of her dead son." Then the sea nymphs stood around the
dead Achilles and clothed him in the garments of the Gods, fragrant
raiment, and all the Nine Muses, one to the other replying with
sweet voices, began their lament.

Next the Greeks made a great pile of dry wood, and laid Achilles on
it, and set fire to it, till the flames had consumed his body
except the white ashes. These they placed in a great golden cup
and mingled with them the ashes of Patroclus, and above all they
built a tomb like a hill, high on a headland above the sea, that
men for all time may see it as they go sailing by, and may remember
Achilles. Next they held in his honour foot races and chariot
races, and other games, and Thetis gave splendid prizes. Last of
all, when the games were ended, Thetis placed before the chiefs the
glorious armour that the God had made for her son on the night
after the slaying of Patroclus by Hector. "Let these arms be the
prize of the best of the Greeks," she said, "and of him that saved
the body of Achilles out of the hands of the Trojans."

Then stood up on one side Aias and on the other Ulysses, for these
two had rescued the body, and neither thought himself a worse
warrior than the other. Both were the bravest of the brave, and if
Aias was the taller and stronger, and upheld the fight at the ships
on the day of the valour of Hector; Ulysses had alone withstood the
Trojans, and refused to retreat even when wounded, and his courage
and cunning had won for the Greeks the Luck of Troy. Therefore old
Nestor arose and said: "This is a luckless day, when the best of
the Greeks are rivals for such a prize. He who is not the winner
will be heavy at heart, and will not stand firm by us in battle, as
of old, and hence will come great loss to the Greeks. Who can be a
just judge in this question, for some men will love Aias better,
and some will prefer Ulysses, and thus will arise disputes among
ourselves. Lo! have we not here among us many Trojan prisoners,
waiting till their friends pay their ransom in cattle and gold and
bronze and iron? These hate all the Greeks alike, and will favour
neither Aias nor Ulysses. Let THEM be the judges, and decide who
is the best of the Greeks, and the man who has done most harm to
the Trojans."

Agamemnon said that Nestor had spoken wisely. The Trojans were
then made to sit as judges in the midst of the Assembly, and Aias
and Ulysses spoke, and told the stories of their own great deeds,
of which we have heard already, but Aias spoke roughly and
discourteously, calling Ulysses a coward and a weakling. "Perhaps
the Trojans know," said Ulysses quietly, "whether they think that I
deserve what Aias has said about me, that I am a coward; and
perhaps Aias may remember that he did not find me so weak when we
wrestled for a prize at the funeral of Patroclus."

Then the Trojans all with one voice said that Ulysses was the best
man among the Greeks, and the most feared by them, both for his
courage and his skill in stratagems of war. On this, the blood of
Aias flew into his face, and he stood silent and unmoving, and
could not speak a word, till his friends came round him and led him
away to his hut, and there he sat down and would not eat or drink,
and the night fell.

Long he sat, musing in his mind, and then rose and put on all his
armour, and seized a sword that Hector had given him one day when
they two fought in a gentle passage of arms, and took courteous
farewell of each other, and Aias had given Hector a broad sword-
belt, wrought with gold. This sword, Hector's gift, Aias took, and
went towards the hut of Ulysses, meaning to carve him limb from
limb, for madness had come upon him in his great grief. Rushing
through the night to slay Ulysses he fell upon the flock of sheep
that the Greeks kept for their meat. And up and down among them he
went, smiting blindly till the dawn came, and, lo! his senses
returned to him, and he saw that he had not smitten Ulysses, but
stood in a pool of blood among the sheep that he had slain. He
could not endure the disgrace of his madness, and he fixed the
sword, Hector's gift, with its hilt firmly in the ground, and went
back a little way, and ran and fell upon the sword, which pierced
his heart, and so died the great Aias, choosing death before a
dishonoured life.


When the Greeks found Aias lying dead, slain by his own hand, they
made great lament, and above all the brother of Aias, and his wife
Tecmessa bewailed him, and the shores of the sea rang with their
sorrow. But of all no man was more grieved than Ulysses, and he
stood up and said: "Would that the sons of the Trojans had never
awarded to me the arms of Achilles, for far rather would I have
given them to Aias than that this loss should have befallen the
whole army of the Greeks. Let no man blame me, or be angry with
me, for I have not sought for wealth, to enrich myself, but for
honour only, and to win a name that will be remembered among men in
times to come." Then they made a great fire of wood, and burned
the body of Aias, lamenting him as they had sorrowed for Achilles.

Now it seemed that though the Greeks had won the Luck of Troy and
had defeated the Amazons and the army of Memnon, they were no
nearer taking Troy than ever. They had slain Hector, indeed, and
many other Trojans, but they had lost the great Achilles, and Aias,
and Patroclus, and Antilochus, with the princes whom Penthesilea
and Memnon slew, and the bands of the dead chiefs were weary of
fighting, and eager to go home. The chiefs met in council, and
Menelaus arose and said that his heart was wasted with sorrow for
the death of so many brave men who had sailed to Troy for his sake.
"Would that death had come upon me before I gathered this host," he
said, "but come, let the rest of us launch our swift ships, and
return each to our own country."

He spoke thus to try the Greeks, and see of what courage they were,
for his desire was still to burn Troy town and to slay Paris with
his own hand. Then up rose Diomede, and swore that never would the
Greeks turn cowards. No! he bade them sharpen their swords, and
make ready for battle. The prophet Calchas, too, arose and
reminded the Greeks how he had always foretold that they would take
Troy in the tenth year of the siege, and how the tenth year had
come, and victory was almost in their hands. Next Ulysses stood up
and said that, though Achilles was dead, and there was no prince to
lead his men, yet a son had been born to Achilles, while he was in
the isle of Scyros, and that son he would bring to fill his
father's place.

"Surely he will come, and for a token I will carry to him those
unhappy arms of the great Achilles. Unworthy am I to wear them,
and they bring back to my mind our sorrow for Aias. But his son
will wear them, in the front of the spearmen of Greece and in the
thickest ranks of Troy shall the helmet of Achilles shine, as it
was wont to do, for always he fought among the foremost." Thus
Ulysses spoke, and he and Diomede, with fifty oarsmen, went on
board a swift ship, and sitting all in order on the benches they
smote the grey sea into foam, and Ulysses held the helm and steered
them towards the isle of Scyros.

Now the Trojans had rest from war for a while, and Priam, with a
heavy heart, bade men take his chief treasure, the great golden
vine, with leaves and clusters of gold, and carry it to the mother
of Eurypylus, the king of the people who dwell where the wide
marshlands of the river Cayster clang with the cries of the cranes
and herons and wild swans. For the mother of Eurypylus had sworn
that never would she let her son go to the war unless Priam sent
her the vine of gold, a gift of the gods to an ancient King of

With a heavy heart, then, Priam sent the golden vine, but Eurypylus
was glad when he saw it, and bade all his men arm, and harness the
horses to the chariots, and glad were the Trojans when the long
line of the new army wound along the road and into the town. Then
Paris welcomed Eurypylus who was his nephew, son of his sister
Astyoche, a daughter of Priam; but the grandfather of Eurypylus was
the famous Heracles, the strongest man who ever lived on earth. So
Paris brought Eurypylus to his house, where Helen sat working at
her embroideries with her four bower maidens, and Eurypylus
marvelled when he saw her, she was so beautiful. But the Khita,
the people of Eurypylus, feasted in the open air among the Trojans,
by the light of great fires burning, and to the music of pipes and
flutes. The Greeks saw the fires, and heard the merry music, and
they watched all night lest the Trojans should attack the ships
before the dawn. But in the dawn Eurypylus rose from sleep and put
on his armour, and hung from his neck by the belt the great shield
on which were fashioned, in gold of many colours and in silver, the
Twelve Adventures of Heracles, his grandfather; strange deeds that
he did, fighting with monsters and giants and with the Hound of
Hades, who guards the dwellings of the dead. Then Eurypylus led on
his whole army, and with the brothers of Hector he charged against
the Greeks, who were led by Agamemnon.

In that battle Eurypylus first smote Nireus, who was the most
beautiful of the Greeks now that Achilles had fallen. There lay
Nireus, like an apple tree, all covered with blossoms red and
white, that the wind has overthrown in a rich man's orchard. Then
Eurypylus would have stripped off his armour, but Machaon rushed
in, Machaon who had been wounded and taken to the tent of Nestor,
on the day of the Valour of Hector, when he brought fire against
the ships. Machaon drove his spear through the left shoulder of
Eurypylus, but Eurypylus struck at his shoulder with his sword, and
the blood flowed; nevertheless, Machaon stooped, and grasped a
great stone, and sent it against the helmet of Eurypylus. He was
shaken, but he did not fall, he drove his spear through breastplate
and breast of Machaon, who fell and died. With his last breath he
said, "Thou, too, shalt fall," but Eurypylus made answer, "So let
it be! Men cannot live for ever, and such is the fortune of war."

Thus the battle rang, and shone, and shifted, till few of the
Greeks kept steadfast, except those with Menelaus and Agamemnon,
for Diomede and Ulysses were far away upon the sea, bringing from
Scyros the son of Achilles. But Teucer slew Polydamas, who had
warned Hector to come within the walls of Troy; and Menelaus
wounded Deiphobus, the bravest of the sons of Priam who were still
in arms, for many had fallen; and Agamemnon slew certain spearmen
of the Trojans. Round Eurypylus fought Paris, and Aeneas, who
wounded Teucer with a great stone, breaking in his helmet, but he
drove back in his chariot to the ships. Menelaus and Agamemnon
stood alone and fought in the crowd of Trojans, like two wild boars
that a circle of hunters surrounds with spears, so fiercely they
stood at bay. There they would both have fallen, but Idomeneus,
and Meriones of Crete, and Thrasymedes, Nestor's son, ran to their
rescue, and fiercer grew the fighting. Eurypylus desired to slay
Agamemnon and Menelaus, and end the war, but, as the spears of the
Scots encompassed King James at Flodden Field till he ran forward,
and fell within a lance's length of the English general, so the men
of Crete and Pylos guarded the two princes with their spears.

There Paris was wounded in the thigh with a spear, and he retreated
a little way, and showered his arrows among the Greeks; and
Idomeneus lifted and hurled a great stone at Eurypylus which struck
his spear out of his hand, and he went back to find it, and
Menelaus and Agamemnon had a breathing space in the battle. But
soon Eurypylus returned, crying on his men, and they drove back
foot by foot the ring of spears round Agamemnon, and Aeneas and
Paris slew men of Crete and of Mycenae till the Greeks were pushed
to the ditch round the camp; and then great stones and spears and
arrows rained down on the Trojans and the people of Eurypylus from
the battlements and towers of the Grecian wall. Now night fell,
and Eurypylus knew that he could not win the wall in the dark, so
he withdrew his men, and they built great fires, and camped upon
the plain.

The case of the Greeks was now like that of the Trojans after the
death of Hector. They buried Machaon and the other chiefs who had
fallen, and they remained within their ditch and their wall, for
they dared not come out into the open plain. They knew not whether
Ulysses and Diomede had come safely to Scyros, or whether their
ship had been wrecked or driven into unknown seas. So they sent a
herald to Eurypylus, asking for a truce, that they might gather
their dead and burn them, and the Trojans and Khita also buried
their dead.

Meanwhile the swift ship of Ulysses had swept through the sea to
Scyros, and to the palace of King Lycomedes. There they found
Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles, in the court before the doors.
He was as tall as his father, and very like him in face and shape,
and he was practising the throwing of the spear at a mark. Right
glad were Ulysses and Diomede to behold him, and Ulysses told
Neoptolemus who they were, and why they came, and implored him to
take pity on the Greeks and help them.

"My friend is Diomede, Prince of Argos," said Ulysses, "and I am
Ulysses of Ithaca. Come with us, and we Greeks will give you
countless gifts, and I myself will present you with the armour of
your father, such as it is not lawful for any other mortal man to
wear, seeing that it is golden, and wrought by the hands of a God.
Moreover, when we have taken Troy, and gone home, Menelaus will
give you his daughter, the beautiful Hermione, to be your wife,
with gold in great plenty."

Then Neoptolemus answered: "It is enough that the Greeks need my
sword. To-morrow we shall sail for Troy." He led them into the
palace to dine, and there they found his mother, beautiful
Deidamia, in mourning raiment, and she wept when she heard that
they had come to take her son away. But Neoptolemus comforted her,
promising to return safely with the spoils of Troy, "or, even if I
fall," he said, "it will be after doing deeds worthy of my father's
name." So next day they sailed, leaving Deidamia mournful, like a
swallow whose nest a serpent has found, and has killed her young
ones; even so she wailed, and went up and down in the house. But
the ship ran swiftly on her way, cleaving the dark waves till
Ulysses showed Neoptolemus the far off snowy crest of Mount Ida;
and Tenedos, the island near Troy; and they passed the plain where
the tomb of Achilles stands, but Ulysses did not tell the son that
it was his father's tomb.

Now all this time the Greeks, shut up within their wall and
fighting from their towers, were looking back across the sea, eager
to spy the ship of Ulysses, like men wrecked on a desert island,
who keep watch every day for a sail afar off, hoping that the
seamen will touch at their isle and have pity upon them, and carry
them home, so the Greeks kept watch for the ship bearing

Diomede, too, had been watching the shore, and when they came in
sight of the ships of the Greeks, he saw that they were being
besieged by the Trojans, and that all the Greek army was penned up
within the wall, and was fighting from the towers. Then he cried
aloud to Ulysses and Neoptolemus, "Make haste, friends, let us arm
before we land, for some great evil has fallen upon the Greeks.
The Trojans are attacking our wall, and soon they will burn our
ships, and for us there will be no return."

Then all the men on the ship of Ulysses armed themselves, and
Neoptolemus, in the splendid armour of his father, was the first to
leap ashore. The Greeks could not come from the wall to welcome
him, for they were fighting hard and hand-to-hand with Eurypylus
and his men. But they glanced back over their shoulders and it
seemed to them that they saw Achilles himself, spear and sword in
hand, rushing to help them. They raised a great battle-cry, and,
when Neoptolemus reached the battlements, he and Ulysses, and
Diomede leaped down to the plain, the Greeks following them, and
they all charged at once on the men of Eurypylus, with levelled
spears, and drove them from the wall.

Then the Trojans trembled, for they knew the shields of Diomede and
Ulysses, and they thought that the tall chief in the armour of
Achilles was Achilles himself, come back from the land of the dead
to take vengeance for Antilochus. The Trojans fled, and gathered
round Eurypylus, as in a thunderstorm little children, afraid of
the lightning and the noise, run and cluster round their father,
and hide their faces on his knees.

But Neoptolemus was spearing the Trojans, as a man who carries at
night a beacon of fire in his boat on the sea spears the fishes
that flock around, drawn by the blaze of the flame. Cruelly he
avenged his father's death on many a Trojan, and the men whom
Achilles had led followed Achilles' son, slaying to right and left,
and smiting the Trojans, as they ran, between the shoulders with
the spear. Thus they fought and followed while daylight lasted,
but when night fell, they led Neoptolemus to his father's hut,
where the women washed him in the bath, and then he was taken to
feast with Agamemnon and Menelaus and the princes. They all
welcomed him, and gave him glorious gifts, swords with silver
hilts, and cups of gold and silver, and they were glad, for they
had driven the Trojans from their wall, and hoped that to-morrow
they would slay Eurypylus, and take Troy town.

But their hope was not to be fulfilled, for though next day
Eurypylus met Neoptolemus in the battle, and was slain by him, when
the Greeks chased the Trojans into their city so great a storm of
lightning and thunder and rain fell upon them that they retreated
again to their camp. They believed that Zeus, the chief of the
Gods, was angry with them, and the days went by, and Troy still
stood unconquered.


When the Greeks were disheartened, as they often were, they
consulted Calchas the prophet. He usually found that they must do
something, or send for somebody, and in doing so they diverted
their minds from their many misfortunes. Now, as the Trojans were
fighting more bravely than before, under Deiphobus, a brother of
Hector, the Greeks went to Calchas for advice, and he told them
that they must send Ulysses and Diomede to bring Philoctetes the
bowman from the isle of Lemnos. This was an unhappy deserted
island, in which the married women, some years before, had murdered
all their husbands, out of jealousy, in a single night. The Greeks
had landed in Lemnos, on their way to Troy, and there Philoctetes
had shot an arrow at a great water dragon which lived in a well
within a cave in the lonely hills. But when he entered the cave
the dragon bit him, and, though he killed it at last, its poisonous
teeth wounded his foot. The wound never healed, but dripped with
venom, and Philoctetes, in terrible pain, kept all the camp awake
at night by his cries.

The Greeks were sorry for him, but he was not a pleasant companion,
shrieking as he did, and exuding poison wherever he came. So they
left him on the lonely island, and did not know whether he was
alive or dead. Calchas ought to have told the Greeks not to desert
Philoctetes at the time, if he was so important that Troy, as the
prophet now said, could not be taken without him. But now, as he
must give some advice, Calchas said that Philoctetes must be
brought back, so Ulysses and Diomede went to bring him. They
sailed to Lemnos, a melancholy place they found it, with no smoke
rising from the ruinous houses along the shore. As they were
landing they learned that Philoctetes was not dead, for his dismal
old cries of pain, ototototoi, ai, ai; pheu, pheu; ototototoi, came
echoing from a cave on the beach. To this cave the princes went,
and found a terrible-looking man, with long, dirty, dry hair and
beard; he was worn to a skeleton, with hollow eyes, and lay moaning
in a mass of the feathers of sea birds. His great bow and his
arrows lay ready to his hand: with these he used to shoot the sea
birds, which were all that he had to eat, and their feathers
littered all the floor of his cave, and they were none the better
for the poison that dripped from his wounded foot.

When this horrible creature saw Ulysses and Diomede coming near, he
seized his bow and fitted a poisonous arrow to the string, for he
hated the Greeks, because they had left him in the desert isle.
But the princes held up their hands in sign of peace, and cried out
that they had come to do him kindness, so he laid down his bow, and
they came in and sat on the rocks, and promised that his wound
should be healed, for the Greeks were very much ashamed of having
deserted him. It was difficult to resist Ulysses when he wished to
persuade any one, and at last Philoctetes consented to sail with
them to Troy. The oarsmen carried him down to the ship on a
litter, and there his dreadful wound was washed with warm water,
and oil was poured into it, and it was bound up with soft linen, so
that his pain grew less fierce, and they gave him a good supper and
wine enough, which he had not tasted for many years.

Next morning they sailed, and had a fair west wind, so that they
soon landed among the Greeks and carried Philoctetes on shore.
Here Podaleirius, the brother of Machaon, being a physician, did
all that could be done to heal the wound, and the pain left
Philoctetes. He was taken to the hut of Agamemnon, who welcomed
him, and said that the Greeks repented of their cruelty. They gave
him seven female slaves to take care of him, and twenty swift
horses, and twelve great vessels of bronze, and told him that he
was always to live with the greatest chiefs and feed at their
table. So he was bathed, and his hair was cut and combed and
anointed with oil, and soon he was eager and ready to fight, and to
use his great bow and poisoned arrows on the Trojans. The use of
poisoned arrow-tips was thought unfair, but Philoctetes had no

Now in the next battle Paris was shooting down the Greeks with his
arrows, when Philoctetes saw him, and cried: "Dog, you are proud
of your archery and of the arrow that slew the great Achilles.
But, behold, I am a better bowman than you, by far, and the bow in
my hands was borne by the strong man Heracles!" So he cried and
drew the bowstring to his breast and the poisoned arrowhead to the
bow, and the bowstring rang, and the arrow flew, and did but graze
the hand of Paris. Then the bitter pain of the poison came upon
him, and the Trojans carried him into their city, where the
physicians tended him all night. But he never slept, and lay
tossing in agony till dawn, when he said: "There is but one hope.
Take me to OEnone, the nymph of Mount Ida!"

"Then his friends laid Paris on a litter, and bore him up the steep
path to Mount Ida. Often had he climbed it swiftly, when he was
young, and went to see the nymph who loved him; but for many a day
he had not trod the path where he was now carried in great pain and
fear, for the poison turned his blood to fire. Little hope he had,
for he knew how cruelly he had deserted OEnone, and he saw that all
the birds which were disturbed in the wood flew away to the left
hand, an omen of evil.

At last the bearers reached the cave where the nymph OEnone lived,
and they smelled the sweet fragrance of the cedar fire that burned
on the floor of the cave, and they heard the nymph singing a
melancholy song. Then Paris called to her in the voice which she
had once loved to hear, and she grew very pale, and rose up, saying
to herself, "The day has come for which I have prayed. He is sore
hurt, and has come to bid me heal his wound." So she came and
stood in the doorway of the dark cave, white against the darkness,
and the bearers laid Paris on the litter at the feet of OEnone, and
he stretched forth his hands to touch her knees, as was the manner
of suppliants. But she drew back and gathered her robe about her,
that he might not touch it with his hands.

Then he said: "Lady, despise me not, and hate me not, for my pain
is more than I can bear. Truly it was by no will of mine that I
left you lonely here, for the Fates that no man may escape led me
to Helen. Would that I had died in your arms before I saw her
face! But now I beseech you in the name of the Gods, and for the
memory of our love, that you will have pity on me and heal my hurt,
and not refuse your grace and let me die here at your feet."

Then OEnone answered scornfully: "Why have you come here to me?
Surely for years you have not come this way, where the path was
once worn with your feet. But long ago you left me lonely and
lamenting, for the love of Helen of the fair hands. Surely she is
much more beautiful than the love of your youth, and far more able
to help you, for men say that she can never know old age and death.
Go home to Helen and let her take away your pain."

Thus OEnone spoke, and went within the cave, where she threw
herself down among the ashes of the hearth and sobbed for anger and
sorrow. In a little while she rose and went to the door of the
cave, thinking that Paris had not been borne away back to Troy, but
she found him not; for his bearers had carried him by another path,
till he died beneath the boughs of the oak trees. Then his bearers
carried him swiftly down to Troy, where his mother bewailed him,
and Helen sang over him as she had sung over Hector, remembering
many things, and fearing to think of what her own end might be.
But the Trojans hastily built a great pile of dry wood, and thereon
laid the body of Paris and set fire to it, and the flame went up
through the darkness, for now night had fallen.

But OEnone was roaming in the dark woods, crying and calling after
Paris, like a lioness whose cubs the hunters have carried away.
The moon rose to give her light, and the flame of the funeral fire
shone against the sky, and then OEnone knew that Paris had died--
beautiful Paris--and that the Trojans were burning his body on the
plain at the foot of Mount Ida. Then she cried that now Paris was
all her own, and that Helen had no more hold on him: "And though
when he was living he left me, in death we shall not be divided,"
she said, and she sped down the hill, and through the thickets
where the wood nymphs were wailing for Paris, and she reached the
plain, and, covering her head with her veil like a bride, she
rushed through the throng of Trojans. She leaped upon the burning
pile of wood, she clasped the body of Paris in her arms, and the
flame of fire consumed the bridegroom and the bride, and their
ashes mingled. No man could divide them any more, and the ashes
were placed in a golden cup, within a chamber of stone, and the
earth was mounded above them. On that grave the wood nymphs
planted two rose trees, and their branches met and plaited

This was the end of Paris and OEnone.


After Paris died, Helen was not given back to Menelaus. We are
often told that only fear of the anger of Paris had prevented the
Trojans from surrendering Helen and making peace. Now Paris could
not terrify them, yet for all that the men of the town would not
part with Helen, whether because she was so beautiful, or because
they thought it dishonourable to yield her to the Greeks, who might
put her to a cruel death. So Helen was taken by Deiphobus, the
brother of Paris, to live in his own house, and Deiphobus was at
this time the best warrior and the chief captain of the men of

Meanwhile, the Greeks made an assault against the Trojan walls and
fought long and hardily; but, being safe behind the battlements,
and shooting through loopholes, the Trojans drove them back with
loss of many of their men. It was in vain that Philoctetes shot
his poisoned arrows, they fell back from the stone walls, or stuck
in the palisades of wood above the walls, and the Greeks who tried
to climb over were speared, or crushed with heavy stones. When
night fell, they retreated to the ships and held a council, and, as
usual, they asked the advice of the prophet Calchas. It was the
business of Calchas to go about looking at birds, and taking omens
from what he saw them doing, a way of prophesying which the Romans
also used, and some savages do the same to this day. Calchas said
that yesterday he had seen a hawk pursuing a dove, which hid
herself in a hole in a rocky cliff. For a long while the hawk
tried to find the hole, and follow the dove into it, but he could
not reach her. So he flew away for a short distance and hid
himself; then the dove fluttered out into the sunlight, and the
hawk swooped on her and killed her.

The Greeks, said Calchas, ought to learn a lesson from the hawk,
and take Troy by cunning, as by force they could do nothing. Then
Ulysses stood up and described a trick which it is not easy to
understand. The Greeks, he said, ought to make an enormous hollow
horse of wood, and place the bravest men in the horse. Then all
the rest of the Greeks should embark in their ships and sail to the
Isle of Tenedos, and lie hidden behind the island. The Trojans
would then come out of the city, like the dove out of her hole in
the rock, and would wander about the Greek camp, and wonder why the
great horse of tree had been made, and why it had been left behind.
Lest they should set fire to the horse, when they would soon have
found out the warriors hidden in it, a cunning Greek, whom the
Trojans did not know by sight, should be left in the camp or near
it. He would tell the Trojans that the Greeks had given up all
hope and gone home, and he was to say that they feared the Goddess
Pallas was angry with them, because they had stolen her image that
fell from heaven, and was called the Luck of Troy. To soothe
Pallas and prevent her from sending great storms against the ships,
the Trojans (so the man was to say) had built this wooden horse as
an offering to the Goddess. The Trojans, believing this story,
would drag the horse into Troy, and, in the night, the princes
would come out, set fire to the city, and open the gates to the
army, which would return from Tenedos as soon as darkness came on.

The prophet was much pleased with the plan of Ulysses, and, as two
birds happened to fly away on the right hand, he declared that the
stratagem would certainly be lucky. Neoptolemus, on the other
hand, voted for taking Troy, without any trick, by sheer hard
fighting. Ulysses replied that if Achilles could not do that, it
could not be done at all, and that Epeius, a famous carpenter, had
better set about making the horse at once.

Next day half the army, with axes in their hands, were sent to cut
down trees on Mount Ida, and thousands of planks were cut from the
trees by Epeius and his workmen, and in three days he had finished
the horse. Ulysses then asked the best of the Greeks to come
forward and go inside the machine; while one, whom the Greeks did
not know by sight, should volunteer to stay behind in the camp and
deceive the Trojans. Then a young man called Sinon stood up and
said that he would risk himself and take the chance that the
Trojans might disbelieve him, and burn him alive. Certainly, none
of the Greeks did anything more courageous, yet Sinon had not been
considered brave.

Had he fought in the front ranks, the Trojans would have known him;
but there were many brave fighters who would not have dared to do
what Sinon undertook.

Then old Nestor was the first that volunteered to go into the
horse; but Neoptolemus said that, brave as he was, he was too old,
and that he must depart with the army to Tenedos. Neoptolemus
himself would go into the horse, for he would rather die than turn
his back on Troy. So Neoptolemus armed himself and climbed into
the horse, as did Menelaus, Ulysses, Diomede, Thrasymedes (Nestor's
son), Idomeneus, Philoctetes, Meriones, and all the best men except
Agamemnon, while Epeius himself entered last of all. Agamemnon was
not allowed by the other Greeks to share their adventure, as he was
to command the army when they returned from Tenedos. They
meanwhile launched their ships and sailed away.

But first Menelaus had led Ulysses apart, and told him that if they
took Troy (and now they must either take it or die at the hands of
the Trojans), he would owe to Ulysses the glory. When they came
back to Greece, he wished to give Ulysses one of his own cities,
that they might always be near each other. Ulysses smiled and
shook his head; he could not leave Ithaca, his own rough island
kingdom. "But if we both live through the night that is coming,"
he said, "I may ask you for one gift, and giving it will make you
none the poorer." Then Menelaus swore by the splendour of Zeus
that Ulysses could ask him for no gift that he would not gladly
give; so they embraced, and both armed themselves and went up into
the horse. With them were all the chiefs except Nestor, whom they
would not allow to come, and Agamemnon, who, as chief general, had
to command the army. They swathed themselves and their arms in
soft silks, that they might not ring and clash, when the Trojans,
if they were so foolish, dragged the horse up into their town, and
there they sat in the dark waiting. Meanwhile, the army burned
their huts and launched their ships, and with oars and sails made
their way to the back of the isle of Tenedos.


From the walls the Trojans saw the black smoke go up thick into the
sky, and the whole fleet of the Greeks sailing out to sea. Never
were men so glad, and they armed themselves for fear of an ambush,
and went cautiously, sending forth scouts in front of them, down to
the seashore. Here they found the huts burned down and the camp
deserted, and some of the scouts also caught Sinon, who had hid
himself in a place where he was likely to be found. They rushed on
him with fierce cries, and bound his hands with a rope, and kicked
and dragged him along to the place where Priam and the princes were
wondering at the great horse of tree. Sinon looked round upon
them, while some were saying that he ought to be tortured with fire
to make him tell all the truth about the horse. The chiefs in the
horse must have trembled for fear lest torture should wring the
truth out of Sinon, for then the Trojans would simply burn the
machine and them within it.

But Sinon said: "Miserable man that I am, whom the Greeks hate and
the Trojans are eager to slay!" When the Trojans heard that the
Greeks hated him, they were curious, and asked who he was, and how
he came to be there. "I will tell you all, oh King!" he answered
Priam. "I was a friend and squire of an unhappy chief, Palamedes,
whom the wicked Ulysses hated and slew secretly one day, when he
found him alone, fishing in the sea. I was angry, and in my folly
I did not hide my anger, and my words came to the ears of Ulysses.
From that hour he sought occasion to slay me. Then Calchas--" here
he stopped, saying: "But why tell a long tale? If you hate all
Greeks alike, then slay me; this is what Agamemnon and Ulysses
desire; Menelaus would thank you for my head."

The Trojans were now more curious than before. They bade him go
on, and he said that the Greeks had consulted an Oracle, which
advised them to sacrifice one of their army to appease the anger of
the Gods and gain a fair wind homewards. "But who was to be
sacrificed? They asked Calchas, who for fifteen days refused to
speak. At last, being bribed by Ulysses, he pointed to me, Sinon,
and said that I must be the victim. I was bound and kept in
prison, while they built their great horse as a present for Pallas
Athene the Goddess. They made it so large that you Trojans might
never be able to drag it into your city; while, if you destroyed
it, the Goddess might turn her anger against you. And now they
have gone home to bring back the image that fell from heaven, which
they had sent to Greece, and to restore it to the Temple of Pallas
Athene, when they have taken your town, for the Goddess is angry
with them for that theft of Ulysses."

The Trojans were foolish enough to believe the story of Sinon, and
they pitied him and unbound his hands. Then they tied ropes to the
wooden horse, and laid rollers in front of it, like men launching a
ship, and they all took turns to drag the horse up to the Scaean
gate. Children and women put their hands to the ropes and hauled,
and with shouts and dances, and hymns they toiled, till about
nightfall the horse stood in the courtyard of the inmost castle.

Then all the people of Troy began to dance, and drink, and sing.
Such sentinels as were set at the gates got as drunk as all the
rest, who danced about the city till after midnight, and then they
went to their homes and slept heavily.

Meanwhile the Greek ships were returning from behind Tenedos as
fast as the oarsmen could row them.

One Trojan did not drink or sleep; this was Deiphobus, at whose
house Helen was now living. He bade her come with them, for he
knew that she was able to speak in the very voice of all men and
women whom she had ever seen, and he armed a few of his friends and
went with them to the citadel. Then he stood beside the horse,
holding Helen's hand, and whispered to her that she must call each
of the chiefs in the voice of his wife. She was obliged to obey,
and she called Menelaus in her own voice, and Diomede in the voice
of his wife, and Ulysses in the very voice of Penelope. Then
Menelaus and Diomede were eager to answer, but Ulysses grasped
their hands and whispered the word "Echo!" Then they remembered
that this was a name of Helen, because she could speak in all
voices, and they were silent; but Anticlus was still eager to
answer, till Ulysses held his strong hand over his mouth. There
was only silence, and Deiphobus led Helen back to his house. When
they had gone away Epeius opened the side of the horse, and all the
chiefs let themselves down softly to the ground. Some rushed to
the gate, to open it, and they killed the sleeping sentinels and
let in the Greeks. Others sped with torches to burn the houses of
the Trojan princes, and terrible was the slaughter of men, unarmed
and half awake, and loud were the cries of the women. But Ulysses
had slipped away at the first, none knew where. Neoptolemus ran to
the palace of Priam, who was sitting at the altar in his courtyard,
praying vainly to the Gods, for Neoptolemus slew the old man
cruelly, and his white hair was dabbled in his blood. All through
the city was fighting and slaying; but Menelaus went to the house
of Deiphobus, knowing that Helen was there.

In the doorway he found Deiphobus lying dead in all his armour, a
spear standing in his breast. There were footprints marked in
blood, leading through the portico and into the hall. There
Menelaus went, and found Ulysses leaning, wounded, against one of
the central pillars of the great chamber, the firelight shining on
his armour.

"Why hast thou slain Deiphobus and robbed me of my revenge?" said
Menelaus. "You swore to give me a gift," said Ulysses, "and will
you keep your oath?" "Ask what you will," said Menelaus; "it is
yours and my oath cannot be broken." "I ask the life of Helen of
the fair hands," said Ulysses "this is my own life-price that I pay
back to her, for she saved my life when I took the Luck of Troy,
and I swore that hers should be saved."

Then Helen stole, glimmering in white robes, from a recess in the
dark hall, and fell at the feet of Menelaus; her golden hair lay in
the dust of the hearth, and her hands moved to touch his knees.
His drawn sword fell from the hands of Menelaus, and pity and love
came into his heart, and he raised her from the dust and her white
arms were round his neck, and they both wept. That night Menelaus
fought no more, but they tended the wound of Ulysses, for the sword
of Deiphobus had bitten through his helmet.

When dawn came Troy lay in ashes, and the women were being driven
with spear shafts to the ships, and the men were left unburied, a
prey to dogs and all manner of birds. Thus the grey city fell,
that had lorded it for many centuries. All the gold and silver and
rich embroideries, and ivory and amber, the horses and chariots,
were divided among the army; all but a treasure of silver and gold,
hidden in a chest within a hollow of the wall, and this treasure
was found, not very many years ago, by men digging deep on the hill
where Troy once stood. The women, too, were given to the princes,
and Neoptolemus took Andromache to his home in Argos, to draw water
from the well and to be the slave of a master, and Agamemnon
carried beautiful Cassandra, the daughter of Priam, to his palace
in Mycenae, where they were both slain in one night. Only Helen
was led with honour to the ship of Menelaus.

The story of all that happened to Ulysses on his way home from Troy
is told in another book, "Tales of the Greek Seas."


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