He said, and Greeks and Trojans gladly heard, In hopes of respite from the weary war. They rang’d the cars in ranks; and they themselves Descending doff’d their arms, and laid them down Close each by each, with narrow space between. Two heralds to the city Hector sent To bring the lambs, and aged Priam call; While Agamemnon to the hollow ships, Their lamb to bring, in haste Talthybius sent: He heard, and straight the monarch’s voice obey’d. Meantime to white-arm’d Helen Iris sped, The heav’nly messenger: in form she seem’d Her husband’s sister, whom Antenor’s son, The valiant Helicaon had to wife, Laodice, of Priam’s daughters all Loveliest of face: she in her chamber found Her whom she sought: a mighty web she wove, Of double woof and brilliant hues; whereon Was interwoven many a toilsome strife Of Trojan warriors and of brass-clad Greeks, For her encounter’d at the hand of Mars. Beside her Iris stood, and thus she spoke: “Come, sister dear, and see the glorious deeds Of Trojan warriors and of brass-clad Greeks. They who erewhile, impatient for the fight, Roll’d o’er the plain the woful tide of war, Now silent sit, the storm of battle hush’d, Reclining on their shields, their lances bright Beside them reared; while Paris in the midst And warlike Menelaus, stand prepar’d With the long spear for thee to fight; thyself The prize of conquest and the victor’s wife.” Thus as she spoke, in Helen’s breast arose Fond recollection of her former Lord, Her home, and parents; o’er her head she threw A snowy veil; and shedding tender tears She issu’d forth, not unaccompanied; For with her went fair Æthra, Pittheus’ child, And stag-ey’d Clymene, her maidens twain. They quickly at the Scaean gate arriv’d. Attending there on aged Priam, sat, The Elders of the city; Panthous, And Lampus, and Thymaetes; Clytius, Bold Icetaon, and Ucalegon, With sage Antenor, wise in council both: All these were gather’d at the Scaean gate; By age exempt from war, but in discourse Abundant, as the cricket, that on high From topmost boughs of forest tree sends forth His delicate music; so on Ilium’s tow’rs Sat the sage chiefs and councillors of Troy. Helen they saw, as to the tow’r she came; And “’tis no marvel,” one to other said, “The valiant Trojans and the well-greav’d Greeks For beauty such as this should long endure The toils of war; for goddess-like she seems; And yet, despite her beauty, let her go, Nor bring on us and on our sons a curse.” Thus they; but aged Priam Helen call’d: “Come here, my child, and sitting by my side, From whence thou canst discern thy former Lord, His kindred, and thy friends (not thee I blame, But to the Gods I owe this woful war), Tell me the name of yonder mighty chief Among the Greeks a warrior brave and strong: Others in height surpass him; but my eyes A form so noble never yet beheld, Nor so august; he moves, a King indeed!”