exander, from whom, indeed, first of
all, thou wouldst receive splendid gifts, if he should see martial
Menelaus, the son of Atreus, subdued by this weapon, ascending the sad
pile. But come, aim an arrow at renowned Menelaus; and vow to
Lycian-born[173] Apollo, the renowned archer, that thou wilt sacrifice a
splendid hecatomb of firstling lambs, having returned home to the city
of sacred Zeleia."

[Footnote 173: This is probably the true interpretation, and is
given by the Scholiast, Hesychius, and others. But Heraclides,
Alleg. Sec. 6, says that Apollo is so called [Greek: epeide tou kata
ten orthrion oran lykaugous estin aitioi, e oti likazania genna,
toutesti tono eniauton]. Cf. Macrob. Sat. i. 17; Serv. on AEn. iv.
377.]

Thus spoke Minerva, and she persuaded his mind for him, unthinking one.
Straightway he uncased his well-polished bow, made from [the horn of] a
wild, bounding goat, which he indeed surprising once on a time in
ambush, as it was coming out of a cavern, struck, aiming at it beneath
the breast; but it fell supine on the rock. Its horns had grown sixteen
palms from its head; and these the horn-polishing artist, having duly
prepared, fitted together, and when he had well smoothed all, added a
golden tip. And having bent the bow, he aptly lowered it, having
inclined it against the ground; but his excellent companions held their
shields before him, lest the martial sons of the Greeks should rise
against him, before warlike Menelaus, the chief of the Greeks, was
wounded. Then he drew off the cover of his quiver, and took out an
arrow, fresh, winged, a cause of gloomy ills. Forthwith he fitted the
bitter arrow to the string, and vowed to Lycian-born Apollo, the
renowned archer, that he would sacrifice a splendid hecatomb of
firstling lambs, having returned home to the city of sacred Zeleia.
Having seized them, he drew together the notch [of the arrow] and the
ox-hide string; the string, indeed, he brought near to his breast, and
the barb to the bow. But after he had bent the great bow into a circle,
the bow twanged, the bowstring rang loudly, and the sharp-pointed shaft
bounded forth, impatient to wing its flight through the host.

Nor did the blessed immortal gods forget thee, O Menelaus;[174] but
chiefly the spoil-hunting daughter of Jove, who, standing before thee,
averted the deadly weapon. She as much repelled it from thy body, as a
mother repels a fly from her infant, when it shal