He said, and Hector joy’d to hear his words; Forth in the midst he stepp’d, and with his spear Grasp’d in the middle, stay’d the Trojan ranks. With one accord they sat; on th’ other side Atrides bade the well-greav’d Greeks sit down; While, in the likeness of two vultures, sat On the tall oak of aegis-bearing Jove, Pallas, and Phoebus of the silver bow, With heroes’ deeds delighted; dense around Bristled the ranks, with shield, and helm, and spear. As when the west wind freshly blows, and brings A dark’ning ripple o’er the ocean waves, E’en so appear’d upon the plain the ranks Of Greeks and Trojans; standing in the midst, Thus to both armies noble Hector spoke: “Hear, all ye Trojans, and ye well-greav’d Greeks, The words I speak, the promptings of my soul. It hath not pleas’d high-thron’d Saturnian Jove To ratify our truce, who both afflicts With labours hard, till either ye shall take Our well-fenc’d city, or yourselves to us Succumb beside your ocean-going ships. Here have ye all the chiefest men of Greece; Of all, let him who dares with me to fight, Stand forth, and godlike Hector’s might confront. And this I say, and call to witness Jove, If with the sharp-edg’d spear he vanquish me, He shall strip off, and to the hollow ships In triumph bear my armour; but my corpse Restore, that so the men and wives of Troy May deck with honours due my funeral pyre. But, by Apollo’s grace should I prevail, I will his arms strip off and bear to Troy, And in Apollo’s temple hang on high; But to the ships his corpse I will restore, That so the long-hair’d Greeks with solemn rites May bury him, and to his mem’ry raise By the broad Hellespont a lofty tomb; And men in days to come shall say, who urge Their full-oar’d bark across the dark-blue sea, ‘Lo there a warrior’s tomb of days gone by, A mighty chief, whom glorious Hector slew:’ Thus shall they say, and thus my fame shall live.” Thus Hector spoke; they all in silence heard, Sham’d to refuse, but fearful to accept. At length in anger Menelaus rose, Groaning in spirit, and with bitter words Reproach’d them: “Shame, ye braggart cowards, shame! Women of Greece! I cannot call you men! ’Twere foul disgrace indeed, and scorn on scorn, If Hector’s challenge none of all the Greeks Should dare accept; to dust and water turn All ye who here inglorious, heartless sit! I will myself confront him; for success, Th’ immortal Gods above the issues hold.”