to her sympathetic ear he tells all the story of his wrongs, and the
goddess shows herself the tenderest and most loving of mothers. He bids
her seek justice for him at the throne of mighty Zeus, with whom she is
potent on account of favors she has done him. She bewails with her son
that she has borne him to brief life and evil destiny; but she bids him
continue wroth with the Achaeans, and refrain utterly from battle, while
she will early fare to Zeus's palace upon Mount Olympus, and she thinks
to win him. True to her promise, she betakes herself to sunny Olympus
and finds the father of gods and men sitting apart from all the rest
upon the topmost peak. She clasps his knees with one hand as a suppliant
and with the other strokes his chin, and prays him to do honor to her
son and exalt him with recompense for the gross wrong he has suffered.
And Zeus, though he knows that it will lead to strife with Lady Hera,
his spouse, promises to heap just vengeance upon Agamemnon.

Thus, upon the very threshold of the Iliad, the chord of maternal
affection is struck; and when the wild passions of early manhood have
led to sorrow and humiliation, the mother appears, affording sympathy
and comfort, and is ready to traverse sea and earth and heaven to
intercede for her wronged and grief-stricken son.

Achilles remains away from battle, sulking beside the ships. The odds
are now in favor of the Trojans in the conflict that is being waged.
Both sides are weary of continual fighting, and a single combat is
arranged between Menelaus and Paris, the wronged husband and the
present lord of Helen. The meed of victory is to be Helen herself, with
all her treasures, she now appearing for the first time in the Epos.

Helen is summoned from her palace to witness the combat. So she hastens
from her chamber, attended by two handmaidens, and comes to the place of
the Scaean gates, where are gathered King Priam and the elders of the
city.

Homer nowhere attempts to describe Helen's beauty in detail, but
impresses it upon the reader merely by showing the bewitching effect of
her presence upon others. Even these sage old men fall under the spell
of her divine beauty, and, when they see her coming upon the towers,
softly speak winged words, one to the other:

"Small blame is it that Trojans and well-greaved Achaeans should for such
a woman long time suffer hardships; marvellously like is she to the
immortal goddesses to look upon. Yet even so, thoug