He said: she, to the house returning, sent Th’ attendants through the city, to collect The train of aged suppliants; she meanwhile Her fragrant chamber sought, wherein were stor’d Rich garments by Sidonian women work’d, Whom godlike Paris had from Sidon brought, Sailing the broad sea o’er, the selfsame path By which the high-born Helen he convey’d. Of these, the richest in embroidery, The amplest, and the brightest, as a star Refulgent, plac’d with care beneath the rest, The Queen her off’ring bore to Pallas’ shrine: She went, and with her many an ancient dame. But when the shrine they reach’d on Ilium’s height, Theano, fair of face, the gates unlock’d, Daughter of Cisseus, sage Antenor’s wife, By Trojans nam’d at Pallas’ shrine to serve. They with deep moans to Pallas rais’d their hands; But fair Theano took the robe, and plac’d On Pallas’ knees, and to the heav’nly Maid, Daughter of Jove, she thus address’d her pray’r: “Guardian of cities, Pallas, awful Queen, Goddess of Goddesses, break thou the spear Of Tydeus’ son; and grant that he himself Prostrate before the Scaean gates may fall; So at thine altar will we sacrifice Twelve yearling kine, that never felt the goad, If thou have pity on the state of Troy, The wives of Trojans, and their helpless babes.” Thus she; but Pallas answer’d not her pray’r. While thus they call’d upon the heav’nly Maid, Hector to Paris’ mansion bent his way; A noble structure, which himself had built Aided by all the best artificers Who in the fertile realm of Troy were known; With chambers, hall, and court, on Ilium’s height, Near to where Priam’s self and Hector dwelt. There enter’d Hector, well belov’d of Jove; And in his hand his pond’rous spear he bore, Twelve cubits long; bright flash’d the weapon’s point Of polish’d brass, with circling hoop of gold. There in his chamber found he whom he sought, About his armour busied, polishing His shield, his breastplate, and his bended bow. While Argive Helen, ’mid her maidens plac’d, The skilful labours of their hands o’erlook’d. To him thus Hector with reproachful words; “Thou dost not well thine anger to indulge; In battle round the city’s lofty wall The people fast are falling; thou the cause That fiercely thus around the city burns The flame of war and battle; and thyself Wouldst others blame, who from the fight should shrink. Up, ere the town be wrapp’d in hostile fires.” To whom in answer godlike Paris thus: “Hector, I own not causeless thy rebuke; Yet will I speak; hear thou and understand; ’Twas less from anger with the Trojan host, And fierce resentment, that I here remain’d, Than that I sought my sorrow to indulge; Yet hath my wife, e’en now, with soothing words Urg’d me to join the battle; so, I own, ’Twere best; and Vict’ry changes oft her side. Then stay, while I my armour don; or thou Go first: I, following, will o’ertake thee soon.”