Book IV - Page 2

am, but I will not have my own work

wasted. I too am a god and of the same race with yourself. I am

Saturn's eldest daughter, and am honourable not on this ground

only, but also because I am your wife, and you are king over the

gods. Let it be a case, then, of give-and-take between us, and

the rest of the gods will follow our lead. Tell Minerva to go and

take part in the fight at once, and let her contrive that the

Trojans shall be the first to break their oaths and set upon the

Achaeans."

The sire of gods and men heeded her words, and said to Minerva,

"Go at once into the Trojan and Achaean hosts, and contrive that

the Trojans shall be the first to break their oaths and set upon

the Achaeans."

This was what Minerva was already eager to do, so down she darted

from the topmost summits of Olympus. She shot through the sky as

some brilliant meteor which the son of scheming Saturn has sent

as a sign to mariners or to some great army, and a fiery train of

light follows in its wake. The Trojans and Achaeans were struck

with awe as they beheld, and one would turn to his neighbour,

saying, "Either we shall again have war and din of combat, or

Jove the lord of battle will now make peace between us."

Thus did they converse. Then Minerva took the form of Laodocus,

son of Antenor, and went through the ranks of the Trojans to find

Pandarus, the redoubtable son of Lycaon. She found him standing

among the stalwart heroes who had followed him from the banks of

the Aesopus, so she went close up to him and said, "Brave son of

Lycaon, will you do as I tell you? If you dare send an arrow at

Menelaus you will win honour and thanks from all the Trojans, and

especially from prince Alexandrus--he would be the first to

requite you very handsomely if he could see Menelaus mount his

funeral pyre, slain by an arrow from your hand. Take your home

aim then, and pray to Lycian Apollo, the famous archer; vow that

when you get home to your strong city of Zelea you will offer a

hecatomb of firstling lambs in his honour."

His fool's heart was persuaded, and he took his bow from its

case. This bow was made from the horns of a wild ibex which he

had killed as it was bounding from a rock; he had stalked it, and

it had fallen as the arrow struck it to the heart. Its horns were

sixteen palms long, and a worker in horn had made them into a

bow, smoothing them well down, and giving them tips of gold. When

Pandarus had strung his bow he laid it carefully on the ground,

and his brave followers held their shields before him lest the