Then he and Menelaus stood face to face, on the ground which Hector and Ulysses had meted out; and they brandished their spears, with wrath against each other.  Paris drew the lot to be the first to cast his long-shafted spear; he threw it, and it struck the round shield of Atreides Menelaus, but did not pierce it; for the point of the spear was turned.

Then Menelaus, poising his lance, prayed to Zeus, “O Father Zeus! grant me to take vengeance on goodly Paris, who did me such foul wrong—­me, who had shown him so much kindness!” He said, and hurled his strong spear, which struck the bright shield of the son of Priam; and the sharp point passed through it, and through his breastplate, and rent the tunic, close to the side of his body; but Paris swerved from it, and shunned the black fate of death.  Then Menelaus drew his sword from the silver-studded sheath, and smote on the helmet of Paris, but the sword was shattered, and fell in pieces from his hand.  Then he looked up to heaven, and exclaimed, “O Father Zeus! thou art the most cruel of all the Gods!”

So saying, he caught Paris by his horse-hair crest, and dragged him towards the well-greaved Achaians, and the embroidered strap of the helmet went nigh to strangle him.  But Venus, daughter of great Zeus, who loved the beauteous Paris, drew near him, and tore the strap of leather; and the helmet came away, empty, in the strong hand of the son of Atreus.  Full of wrath, he hurled it towards his trusty companions, and they took it up.  He then rushed back again, to slay his enemy; but golden-haired Venus, being a goddess, easily caught up Paris, and hid him in thick darkness, and carried him into Troy, to his high and fragrant chamber.

Venus, the golden Goddess of Love, then went to summon Helen, in the likeness of an old woman, a wool-comber, who had worked for Helen in Lacedaemon, and whom she greatly loved.  She found the white-armed Helen on the high tower, and spake:  “Come hither to Paris, who sends for thee; he is there in the fragrant chamber, shining in beauty—­

  “Not like a warrior parted from the foe,
  But some fair dancer from the public show.” 
          (Pope’s Translation of the Iliad.)

But Helen’s heart was greatly moved; she knew the golden Venus, saw her fair neck and sparkling eyes, and called her by her name.  “O thou strange Goddess! wouldst thou again deceive me?  Now Menelaus hath conquered Paris, and will carry me home—­accursed as I am!  And now do thou no more return to Olympus, but leave the dwelling of the Gods, and go and sit by Paris, till he make thee his wife—­or perchance, his slave.  But I will not go to him; for all the Trojan women would justly blame me hereafter; I have innumerable griefs within my heart.”

Then was the bright goddess sore displeased, and spake harshly to her.  “Beware! thou foolish woman! lest in my wrath I leave thee, and henceforth hate thee, as I have loved thee until now!” Venus spake, and Helen, daughter of great Zeus, trembled and obeyed, wrapping her beautiful garments about her; and the goddess led her to the fragrant chamber in the palace, and set her on a chair before the goodly Paris.