“Thou art mad, O Menelaus! offspring of Jove, nor hast thou any need of such madness: restrain thyself, although grieved, nor wish for the sake of contention to fight with a braver man than thyself, Hector, the son of Priam, whom others also dread. Nay, even Achilles, who is much braver than thou, dreads to meet him 256 in the glorious fight. But now, going to the troop of thy companions, sit down. Against him the Greeks will set up some other champion. Although he be intrepid and insatiable of battle, I think that he will gladly bend his knee, 257 if he shall escape from the hostile battle and the grievous fight.” Footnote 256: (return) Lesbonax, περί σχημ. p. 182, reads τούτόν γε—άντιολήσαι, which Valckenaer, and with reason, thinks a more _recherché_ and genuine reading than τούτῳ. Lesbonax compares the Attic phrase άρέσκει με for μοι Cf. Aristoph. Ran. 103, with the Scholiast. Footnote 257: (return) _I.e._ sit down through fatigue, “de iis qui longo labore seu cuisu fessi quiescunt et vires recipiunt.”—Heyne. Thus speaking, the hero dissuaded his brother’s mind, advising him rightly; and he obeyed. His joyful attendants then stripped the armour from his shoulders. Then Nestor arose amidst the Greeks, and said: “O gods, surely great grief comes upon the Grecian land. Certainly the aged knight Peleus, the excellent counsellor and adviser of the Myrmidons, will greatly lament, who formerly interrogated me, greatly rejoiced in his palace, inquiring the race and offspring of all the Greeks. If he now heard of them all crouching down under Hector, often indeed would he uplift his hands to the immortals, [praying] that his soul, [separated] from his limbs, might depart into the house of Pluto. For would, Ο father Jove, and Minerva, and Apollo, I were young, as when the assembled Pylians and the spear-skilled Arcadians fought by the rapid Celadon, at the walls of Phæa, about the streams of Jardan. With them Ereuthalion, god-like hero, stood in the van, bearing on his shoulders the armour of king Areïthous, of noble Areïthous, whom men and beauteous-girt women called by surname Corynetes, since he fought not with a bow, nor with a long spear, but used to break the phalanxes with an iron club. Him Lycurgus slew by stratagem, not by strength, in a narrow defile, where his iron club did not ward off destruction from him; for Lycurgus, anticipating, pierced him right through the waist with his spear, and he was dashed to the ground on his back; and he spoiled him of the armour which brazen Mars had given him, and he indeed afterwards bore them himself in the battle of Mars. But when Lycurgus had grown old in his palaces, he gave them to his beloved attendant Ereuthalion, to be borne: and he, having his armour, challenged all the bravest: but these trembled and feared very much: nor did any one dare [to withstand him]. But my bold mind, by its confidence, urged me on to fight him: now I was the youngest of them