of the Trojans? Let us not spare a single one of them--not even
the child unborn and in its mother's womb; let not a man of them be
left alive, but let all in Ilius perish, unheeded and forgotten."

Thus did he speak, and his brother was persuaded by him, for his words
were just. Menelaus, therefore, thrust Adrestus from him, whereon King
Agamemnon struck him in the flank, and he fell: then the son of Atreus
planted his foot upon his breast to draw his spear from the body.

Meanwhile Nestor shouted to the Argives, saying, "My friends, Danaan
warriors, servants of Mars, let no man lag that he may spoil the dead,
and bring back much booty to the ships. Let us kill as many as we can;
the bodies will lie upon the plain, and you can despoil them later at
your leisure."

With these words he put heart and soul into them all. And now the
Trojans would have been routed and driven back into Ilius, had not
Priam's son Helenus, wisest of augurs, said to Hector and Aeneas,
"Hector and Aeneas, you two are the mainstays of the Trojans and
Lycians, for you are foremost at all times, alike in fight and counsel;
hold your ground here, and go about among the host to rally them in
front of the gates, or they will fling themselves into the arms of
their wives, to the great joy of our foes. Then, when you have put
heart into all our companies, we will stand firm here and fight the
Danaans however hard they press us, for there is nothing else to be
done. Meanwhile do you, Hector, go to the city and tell our mother what
is happening. Tell her to bid the matrons gather at the temple of
Minerva in the acropolis; let her then take her key and open the doors
of the sacred building; there, upon the knees of Minerva, let her lay
the largest, fairest robe she has in her house--the one she sets most
store by; let her, moreover, promise to sacrifice twelve yearling
heifers that have never yet felt the goad, in the temple of the
goddess, if she will take pity on the town, with the wives and little
ones of the Trojans, and keep the son of Tydeus from falling on the
goodly city of Ilius; for he fights with fury and fills men's souls
with panic. I hold him mightiest of them all; we did not fear even
their great champion Achilles, son of a goddess though he be, as we do
this man: his rage is beyond all bounds, and there is none can vie with
him in prowess."

Hector did as his brother bade him. He sprang from his chariot, and
went about everywhere among