‘That,’ said the gracious lady Helen of the long robe, ‘is the huge Aias, a tower of strength to the Achaeans. And there on the other side is Idomeneus, standing among the Cretans like a god, with his Cretan captains gathered round him. My lord Menelaus often entertained him in our house, when he paid us a visit from Crete. And now I have picked out all the Achaeans whom I can recognize and name, except two chieftains whom I cannot find, Castor, the tamer of horses and Polydeuces the great boxer, my own brothers, borne by the same mother as myself. Either they did not join the army from lovely Lacedaemon, or if they crossed the seas and came here with the rest, they are unwilling to take part in the fighting on account of the scandal attached to my name and the insults they might hear.’

She did not know, when she said this, that the fruitful Earth had already received them in her lap, over there in Lacedaemon, in the country that they loved.

Heralds, meanwhile, were bringing through the town the wherewithal for the treaty of peace, two sheep and a goatskin bottle full of mellow wine, the fruit of the soil. The herald Idaeus, who carried a gleaming bowl and golden cups, came up to the old king and roused him to action. ‘Up, my lord,’ he said. ‘The commanders of the Trojan and Achaean forces are calling for you to come down onto the plain and make a truce. Paris and the warrior Menelaus are going to fight each other with long spears for Helen. The winner is to have the lady, goods and all, while the rest make a treaty of peace, by which we stay in deep-soiled Troy, and the enemy sail home to Argos where the horses graze and Achaea land of lovely women.’

The old man shuddered when he heard this; but he told his men to harness horses to his chariot, and they promptly obeyed. Priam mounted and drew back the reins, Antenor got into the splendid chariot beside him, and they drove their fast horses through the Scaean Gate towards the open country.