ake this offer, and to
demand a truce for burning the dead, the last of which only is agreed to
by Agamemnon. When the funerals are performed, the Greeks, pursuant to the
advice of Nestor, erect a fortification to protect their fleet and camp,
flanked with towers, and defended by a ditch and palisades. Neptune
testifies his jealousy at this work, but is pacified by a promise from
Jupiter. Both armies pass the night in feasting but Jupiter disheartens
the Trojans with thunder, and other signs of his wrath.

The three and twentieth day ends with the duel of Hector and Ajax, the
next day the truce is agreed; another is taken up in the funeral rites of
the slain and one more in building the fortification before the ships. So
that somewhat about three days is employed in this book. The scene lies
wholly in the field.

So spoke the guardian of the Trojan state,
Then rush'd impetuous through the Scaean gate.
Him Paris follow'd to the dire alarms;
Both breathing slaughter, both resolved in arms.
As when to sailors labouring through the main,
That long have heaved the weary oar in vain,
Jove bids at length the expected gales arise;
The gales blow grateful, and the vessel flies.
So welcome these to Troy's desiring train,
The bands are cheer'd, the war awakes again.

Bold Paris first the work of death begun
On great Menestheus, Areithous' son,
Sprung from the fair Philomeda's embrace,
The pleasing Arne was his native place.
Then sunk Eioneus to the shades below,
Beneath his steely casque he felt the blow(177)
Full on his neck, from Hector's weighty hand;
And roll'd, with limbs relax'd, along the land.
By Glaucus' spear the bold Iphmous bleeds,
Fix'd in the shoulder as he mounts his steeds;
Headlong he tumbles: his slack nerves unbound,
Drop the cold useless members on the ground.

When now Minerva saw her Argives slain,
From vast Olympus to the gleaming plain
Fierce she descends: Apollo marked her flight,
Nor shot less swift from Ilion's towery height.
Radiant they met, beneath the beechen shade;
When thus Apollo to the blue-eyed maid:

"What cause, O daughter of Almighty Jove!
Thus wings thy progress from the realms above?
Once more impetuous dost thou bend thy way,
To give to Greece the long divided day?
Too much has Troy already felt thy hate,
Now breathe thy rage, and hush the stern debate;
This day, the business of the field suspend;
War s