“So that is Agamemnon!” replied Priam slowly, observing him with admiration. “But tell me more. I see one who is not so tall, but with broad chest and mighty shoulders. He has laid his weapons upon the ground and goes among the soldiers, from one company to another, even as a ram musters the flock.”
“That is Ulysses, Laërtes’ son,” said Helen; “a good soldier and the wisest of them all in council.”
“That is true, and now I recognize him myself,” said Antenor. “He came with Menelaus into the city, as ambassador from the Achaians, to make terms for thee.”
“But look!” cried Priam. “There go two others, who appear to be powerful kings.”
“Truly they are valiant heroes,” answered Helen. “The first is Ajax of Salamis and the other Idomeneus, king of Crete. He often visited us and Menelaus entertained him gladly, for he is an excellent man.”
While this conversation was going on, there came a herald to the aged king to announce that the chariot was waiting to take him to the battlefield. On their arrival in the midst of the two armies, Agamemnon advanced to meet the king, surrounded by the other princes. Heralds went among the company, sprinkling the hands of each with water; for none might perform a sacred rite with unclean hands. Then Agamemnon drew a great knife from his belt and sheared the wool from the lambs’ heads and the heralds gave a piece of it to each prince. Then Agamemnon lifted up his hands and prayed: “Father Jupiter, glorious ruler, and thou, Helios, all-seeing sungod; ye Streams and Earth and ye Shades who punish those who swear falsely, be ye witnesses of our vows and of this solemn treaty. If Paris vanquish King Menelaus, he shall keep Helen and her treasures and we will return to our country. But if he fall in the fight, the Trojans shall give up the woman, together with all the treasure, and pay us besides a fair tribute in this and future years. And should they ever refuse to fulfil this vow, I shall renew the war and never stop until I have received full satisfaction.” All took the oath and the king cut the throats of the lambs and laid them down upon the ground. Then each took wine and poured the first drops upon the earth in honor of the gods, saying: “May Jupiter thus spill the blood of him who shall first break the sacred oath.”
“Worthy men,” said old Priam, with tears in his eyes, “grant me leave to return home that I may not look upon the combat. Let Jupiter decide. He knoweth best the right.” With these words he was lifted into his chariot and Antenor drove him swiftly to the palace.
Hector and Ulysses, the arbiters of the combat, now measured off the ground and put the lots in a helmet, one for Menelaus and one for Paris, in order to decide who should first cast his spear. Hector shook the helmet until one of the lots flew out. It was that of Paris. The bystanders at once retired to a distance and seated themselves in a circle. Paris, in shining armor and carrying a heavy javelin, advanced from one side and Menelaus from the other into the middle of the arena. They shook their weapons fiercely and Paris was the first to cast his javelin. But he struck only the edge of Menelaus’ shield; the point was bent and the spear fell harmless to the ground.
Menelaus cast his spear with such force that it pierced the shield and would have penetrated his heart had Paris not quickly sprung aside. But while he was gazing in dismay at the wreck of his shield, Menelaus sprang upon him with drawn sword and had cloven his head in twain had not the thick helmet shivered the brittle blade. For the third time he sprang at Paris and seized him by the helmet to throw him to the ground, but at the same moment the chin strap broke and Menelaus’ arm flew up and he found himself holding the empty helmet in his hand. Paris took the opportunity to rush away and take refuge among the Trojans, and when Menelaus turned to cast his spear a second time at him, he had already disappeared. It was the friendly goddess Aphrodite who had saved him.
While the Greeks were loudly acclaiming the victor, Jupiter put it into the heart of a Trojan to shoot an arrow at Menelaus. Pandarus was the man’s name and Athena herself had put the arrow into his hands just as Menelaus passed under the city wall. But the wound was not dangerous and was quickly dressed by Machaon with a salve which he always carried about him. The victorious cries of the Achaians now changed to cries of rage. All condemned the treacherous act and called down the vengeance of Jupiter upon the Trojan people.