‘If I be slain,’ said Hector, ‘then let the victor despoil me of my armour, but give back my body to my home. And if I slay him who fights with me, then shall his armour be mine. But his body the Greeks shall have, that they may build for him a tomb in their own land, near the sea, so that in the days to come men may look at it as they sail past in their ships and say, “This is the tomb of a man that died in days of old, a champion whom Hector slew.”’
Silent stood the Greeks before him. For they feared to meet him hand to hand, and were ashamed to show their fear.
Then up sprang Menelaus, and with scorn of the others he donned his armour.
‘Shame on ye all!’ he cried. ‘I myself will fight with Hector, and the gods will slay that man whom they will to die.’
But Agamemnon would not have it that his brother should fight.
‘This is madness, Menelaus,’ he said. ‘Draw back, though it pains thee, for even Achilles did dread to meet this man in battle, and how much more mighty is Achilles than thou.’
Then rose up nine chiefs of the Greeks, all ready to fight with Hector, and lots were cast to see which of these, the most valiant of the host, should meet with the champion of the men of Troy.
To Ajax the giant-like did the lot fall, and glad was the heart of the hero that so it should be.
In his shining bronze armour did Ajax array him, and as he strode forward with a smile on his stern face and his long spear brandished in his hand, he looked as looks Mars the terrible when he goes forth to battle.
The Trojans trembled at the sight, and the heart of Hector beat faster, as the giant, with his great bronze shield, came towards him with mighty strides.