THE SCENE: Fresh from fleeing defeat at the hands of Menelaus, Paris, who started the Trojan war when he seduced away Menelaus’ wife Helen, proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is a lover, not a fighter.
THE TEXT: The goddess led the way. And once they arrived at Pris’ sumptuous halls the attendants briskly turned to their own work as Helen in all her radiance climbed the steps to the bedroom under the high, vaulting roof. There Aphrodite quickly brought her a chair, the goddess herself with her everlasting smile, and set it down, face-to-face with Paris. And there Helen sat, Helen the child of Zeus whose shield is storm and lightning, glancing away, lashing out at her husband: “So, home from the wars! Oh would to god you’ died there, brought down by that great soldier, my husband long ago. And how you used to boast, year in, year out, that you were the better man than fighting Menelaus in power, arm and spear! So why not go back now, hurl your challenge at Menelaus dear to Ares, fight it out together, man-to-man again? Wait, take my advice and call a halt right here: no more battling with fiery-haired Menelaus, pitting strength against strength in single combat – madness. He just might impale you on his spear!”
But Paris replied at once to Helen’s challenge: “No more, dear one – don’t rake me with your taunts, myself and all my courage. This time, true, Menelaus has won the day, thanks to Athena. I’ll bring him down tomorrow. Even we have gods who battle on our side. But come – let’s go to bed, let’s lose ourselves in love! Never has longing for you overwhelmed me so, no, not even then, I tell you, that first time when I swept you up from the lovely hill of Lacedaemon, sailed you off and away in the racing deep-sea ships and we went and locked in love on Rocky Island… That was nothing to how I hunger for you now – irresistible longing lays me low!”
He led the way to bed. His wife went with him. And now, while the two made love in the large carved bed, Menelaus stalked like a wild beast, up and down the lines – where could he catch a glimpse of magnificent Paris? Not a single Trojan, none of their famous allies could point out Paris to battle-hungry Menelaus.
– The Iliad, Homer, 8th Century BC
