So wounded to his hut and wearily
Came Menelaus; and he bowed his head
Beneath the lintel neither fair nor high;
And lo, queen Helen lay upon his bed,
Flush’d like a child asleep, and rosy-red,
And at his footstep did she wake and smile,
And spake: “My lord, how hath thy hunting sped?
Methinks that I have slept a weary while.”[[1]]
Lulled again by the arts of Aphrodite, Helen has completely forgotten all that has happened in the dreadful interval of the years since she last fell asleep at Lacedaemon. But Menelaus feels the fierce anger rise in his heart against her. He seizes and binds her, and carries her off to deliver her to the vengeance of the people. He reminds them of all they have endured and suffered, and calls upon them to mete to her the just death for such an one as she. But when the soldiers in their rage would have stoned her; when Menelaus rushed upon her with uplifted spear, Aphrodite drew the veil from before her matchless face.
And as in far-off days that were to be,