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
Achaeans should set upon him before he had shot Menelaus. Then he
opened the lid of his quiver and took out a winged arrow that had
not yet been shot, fraught with the pangs of death. He laid the