w, and the
bands of the dead chiefs were weary of fighting, and eager to go home.
The chiefs met in council, and Menelaus arose and said that his heart
was wasted with sorrow for the death of so many brave men who had sailed
to Troy for his sake. 'Would that death had come upon me before I
gathered this host,' he said, 'but come, let the rest of us launch our
swift ships, and return each to our own country.'

He spoke thus to try the Greeks, and see of what courage they were, for
his desire was still to burn Troy town and to slay Paris with his own
hand. Then up rose Diomede, and swore that never would the Greeks turn
cowards. No! he bade them sharpen their swords, and make ready for
battle. The prophet Calchas, too, arose and reminded the Greeks how he
had always foretold that they would take Troy in the tenth year of the
siege, and how the tenth year had come, and victory was almost in their
hands. Next Ulysses stood up and said that, though Achilles was dead,
and there was no prince to lead his men, yet a son had been born to
Achilles, while he was in the isle of Scyros, and that son he would
bring to fill his father's place.

'Surely he will come, and for a token I will carry to him those unhappy
arms of the great Achilles. Unworthy am I to wear them, and they bring
back to my mind our sorrow for Aias. But his son will wear them, in the
front of the spearmen of Greece and in the thickest ranks of Troy shall
the helmet of Achilles shine, as it was wont to do, for always he fought
among the foremost.' Thus Ulysses spoke, and he and Diomede, with fifty
oarsmen, went on board a swift ship, and sitting all in order on the
benches they smote the grey sea into foam, and Ulysses held the helm and
steered them towards the isle of Scyros.

Now the Trojans had rest from war for a while, and Priam, with a heavy
heart, bade men take his chief treasure, the great golden vine, with
leaves and clusters of gold, and carry it to the mother of Eurypylus,
the king of the people who dwell where the wide marshlands of the river
Caycus clang with the cries of the cranes and herons and wild swans. For
the mother of Eurypylus had sworn that never would she let her son go to
the war unless Priam sent her the vine of gold, a gift of the gods to an
ancient King of Troy.

With a heavy heart, then, Priam sent the golden vine, but Eurypylus was
glad when he saw it, and bade all his men arm, and harness the horses to
the chariots, and glad wer