ttle, nor querulous sheep; even then
in the heart of Menelaus was no pity for Dardan nor Greek, but only for
himself and what he had lost--white-bosomed Helen, darling of Gods and
men, and golden treasure of the house.

* * * * *

The vision of her glowing face and veiled eyes came to him in the
night-season to make him mad, and in dreams he saw her, as once and many
times he had seen her, lie supine. There as she lay in his dream, all
white and gold, thinner than the mist-wreath upon a mountain, he would
cry aloud for his loss, and throw his arms out over the empty bed, and
feel his eye-sockets smart for lack of tears; for tears came not to
him, but his fever made his skin quite dry, and so were his eyes dry.
Therefore, when the chiefs of the Achaeans in Council, seeing how their
strength was wearing down like a snowbank under the sun, looked
reproachfully upon him, and thought of Hector slain, and of dead
Achilles who slew him, of Priam, and of Diomede, and of tall Patroclus,
he, Menelaus, took no heed at all, but sat in his place, and said,
"There is no mercy for robbers of the house. Starve whom we cannot put
to the sword. Lay closer leaguer. So shall I win my wife again and have
honor among the Kings, my fellows." So he spake, for it was so he
thought day and night; and Agamemnon, King of Men, bore with him, and
carried the voices of all the Achaeans. For since the death of Achilles
there was no man stout enough to gainsay him, or deny him anything.

In those days there was little war, since every man outside the walls
was sick of strife, and consumed with longing for his home, and wife and
children there. And one told another, "My son will be a grown man in his
first beard," and one, "My daughter will be a wife." As for the men of
Troy, it was well for them that their foes were spent; for Hector was
dead, and Agenor, and Troilus; and King Priam, the old, was fallen into
dotage, which deprived him of counsel. He loved Alexandros only, whom
men called Paris. On which account AEneas, the wise prince, stood apart,
and kept himself within the walls of his house. There remained only that
beauteous Paris, the ravisher. Him Helen held fast enchained by her
white arms and slow, sweet smile, and by the shafts of light from her
kind eyes. All the compliance of a fair woman made for love lay in her;
she could refuse nothing that was asked of her by him who had her. And
she was gentle and very