‘Go now, all of you, and eat, that ye may be ready for battle. Let each man sharpen well his spear and see to his shield, and see to it that the horses are well fed and the chariots prepared. And whomsoever I see minded to stay far away from the fight, beside the ships here by the sea, for him shall there be no hope hereafter, but he shall be food for dogs and for birds of prey.’ And when Agamemnon had spoken, the shouts of the Greeks were as the thunder of mighty breakers on a reef when the winds blow high. Quickly then they scattered, and kindled fires, and made their evening meal, and offered sacrifices to the gods, praying for escape from death in the coming battle. To Zeus did Agamemnon offer his sacrifice, and to the mighty god he prayed: ‘Great Zeus, god of the storm-cloud, let not the sun set nor the darkness fall until I have laid low the palaces of Troy and burned down its walls with fire.’ So he prayed, but as yet Zeus heeded not his prayer. Then did the Greeks gather themselves together to battle, and amongst them went the bright-eyed Athene, urging on each one, and rousing in each man’s heart the joy of strength and of battle. As the red and golden blaze of a fire that devours a mighty forest is seen from afar, so was seen from afar the dazzling gleam of their bronze armour as they marched. Like wild geese and cranes and swans that in long-drawn strings fly tirelessly onward, so poured they forth, while the earth echoed terribly under the tread of men and horses. As flies that swarm in the spring when the herdsmen’s milk-pails are full, so did the Greeks throng to battle, unnumbered as the leaves and the flowers upon which they trod in the flowery plain by the banks of the river Scamander. CHAPTER III THE FIGHT BETWEEN PARIS AND MENELAUS To meet the great Greek host came the men of Troy. With loud shouting and clamour they came, noisy as the flocks of cranes that fly to far-off seas before the coming of winter and sudden rain. But in silence marched the Greeks, shoulder to shoulder, their hearts full of courage. Like the mist that rolls from the crest of the mountains until no man can see in front of him further than the cast of a stone, so did the dust rise in clouds under the tread of the warriors’ feet as they marched across the plain. Front to front did the two armies stand at last, and from the Trojan ranks strode forth Paris the godlike, he who robbed Menelaus of her who was to him most dear. From the shoulders of Paris swung a panther’s skin. He bore a curved bow and sword, and, brandishing two bronze-headed spears, he challenged all the chieftains of the Greek host to fight him, man to man, in mortal fight. As a hungry lion rejoices to see a great-horned stag coming to be his prey, even so did Menelaus rejoice when he saw Paris, the golden-haired and blue-eyed, stride proudly forth. Straightway, in his armour, did Menelaus leap from his chariot to the ground.