Evidently this young woman had a lot of what it takes, for Agamemnon was very loath to give her up. As all the others were anxious to die by sword thrusts and not by germs, they eventually badgered him into agreeing; but he was mean enough to stipulate that Achilles must give up Briseis to him to fill Chryseis's place.
Now Achilles had found Briseis the absolute tops at darning his socks—or something—so he became positively berserk with rage. He was just about to yank out his sword and nail the King to his own tent pole when Athene appeared and lugged him back by the hair, although it seems that the others present didn't see her. I should explain here that the Greeks had taken an oath not to cut their hair until they got Helen back, so he had plenty of hair for her to hang on to. She whispered to him: 'Steady, lad. Hand Briseis over and I'll see you right in some other way'; so he did. But he said he would take no further part in the war. Then, with his very special pal Patroclus and his Myrmidons, as his host of followers were called, he went off to sulk in his tent.
However, that night he was so maddened by the thought that Briseis was now darning Agamemnon's socks—or doing whatever she had done when with him—that he appealed to his goddess-mama to persuade Zeus to show the Greeks how much they had lost by letting their scurvy King drive their best champion from their ranks.
Thetis said Zeus had just gone off on a hoi. to preside at a twelve-day feast down in Ethiopia, but when he got back she would do her best. She did, by clasping him round the legs, and, being partial to cuddlesome females, he agreed to oblige. Afterwards he was a bit sorry, because Hera was so strongly pro-Greek that he felt sure she would make trouble for him if he openly helped the Trojans. Hoping to fox her he lay doggo, but sent Agamemnon a false dream to the effect that if he had another crack at Troy he would, at last, take the city.
Agamemnon then made a complete fool of himself. To test the will to victory of his men before sending them to attack, he assembled them and said: 'Look, chaps. We've had nine years of this, and I reckon that's enough. How about throwing in the sponge and going home?' To his consternation, they all cried: 'Bully for you, Ag!' then cheered him to the echo and ran hell for leather to launch their rotting ships.
That would have been the end of the war had Hera not happened to be looking on. She had never forgiven Paris for giving the golden apple to Aphrodite and was determined that Troy should fall. Summoning Athene, she sent her down to undo the result of Agamemnon's idiotic blunder. With the help of
Odysseus, the goddess changed the minds of the Greeks and soon afterwards they were all drawn up outside the city in battle array.
However, there was no battle that day because Paris came out and challenged any Greek to meet him in single combat. Menelaus fairly jumped at the chance, so a truce was called and it was agreed the war should be settled by this duel between Helen's two husbands. When actually faced with Menelaus's long-bottled-up fury, Paris got cold feet and backed away towards his pals, but they shouted nasty things like: 'Don't drop your lipstick' and 'You ought to be washing the baby's nappies,' and Hector gave him a kick in the pants; so he had to pluck up the courage to fight.
He bungled the first throw with his javelin, whereas Menelaus got home with his, splitting his enemy's breastplate. He then set about him with his sword, but it snapped off short. Undismayed, Menelaus ran in, seized him by the crest of his helmet and started to drag him off to the Greek end of the pitch. But Paris was saved by the gong, the gong in this case being Aphrodite. After all, he had given her the apple, so she caused his chinstrap to snap. The helmet came away in Menelaus's hand and he sat down with a bump on his backside. He was up again in a flash and chucked another javelin at Paris, but Aphrodite felt that it was not her champion's day; so she descended in a cloud, picked him up and dumped him on his bed in the palace.
Helen, of course, had been watching all this from the walls, and Paris having put up such a poor show made her feel that perhaps her legal husband was the better man after all. Still, she went along and bound up Paris's wounds, although one suspects that she may have put a drop more iodine on them than was strictly necessary.
The Greeks naturally went off to celebrate their victory and knocked off all the best bottles they had put by for such an occasion, while Menelaus told them again and again just what he would have done to Paris had not Aphrodite interfered. But while he was gradually becoming incoherent, a big pow-wow was taking place up on Olympus.
Zeus had called a Council of the Gods. He wanted to stop the war and said the time had now come when they should do it by making the Trojans hand over Helen to the Greeks. Most of the others agreed with him, but Hera dug in her toes. She was determined that Troy should fall; so she arranged that Pandarus, one of the Trojans' crack snipers, should put an arrow into Menelaus. It only wounded him but, of course, it broke the truce; so the war was on again.
A terrific battle then took place, with many of the Immortals lending a hand to those they favoured. Hera, Poseidon, Athene, Hermes and Hephaestus were for the Greeks; Apollo, Aphrodite, Ares and Artemis for the Trojans; while Zeus watched the conflict most unhappily and would have brought it to an end had he not feared the trouble Hera would make for him if he robbed her of her vengeance on Paris.
Athene healed Diomede of a mortal wound, so that he could hurl a stone twice his own weight that would have done in Aeneas; but Aphrodite screened the Trojan with her veil. Diomede was so peeved by this that he told the lovely goddess to her face that she was a whore, and threw a dart at her. Wounded by it, Aphrodite took off for Olympus and sobbed on Zeus's shoulder that she had never been so ill-treated in all her life. He patted her on the head and said: 'Sweetie, you were never meant to go to war. Just you forget it and find some strong-limbed young fellow to hop into bed with.'
Hera was too shrewd to get hurt herself. She took the form of Stentor, the Greek who could shout louder than any other, and stood in the background yelling: 'Go on, chaps! Give 'em hell. No quarter. Hit 'em for six and jump on their faces!' The brutal, stupid Ares did not come out of it at all well. Athene, wearing her helmet of invisibility, acted as Diomede's charioteer, and the Hero wounded the God of War so severely that he made off howling to Olympus.
On going back into the city to collect reinforcements, Hector felt pretty sick at finding Paris with his feet up nattering away to Helen. He gave his brother a piece of his mind and Heien backed him up; so Paris reluctantly put on his tin hat again and returned to the fray. Hector came out with him and challenged any of the Greeks to single combat. They drew lots and it fell to the giant Ajax to meet him. While everyone else looked on, they went for one another hammer and tongs, but darkness came down before either of them was seriously injured; so the duel was declared a draw.
Next day it became clear that the Trojans were on the up and up, so the Greek General Staff got to work on the C.-in-C. They told him that the only thing for it was for him to eat humble pie and persuade Achilles to lead the troops again. Finding himself right up against it, Agamemnon agreed, and one must give it to him that he did the generous thing. He sent three of his staff to offer Achilles not only Briseis back but also seven cuties to serve as side-lines, one of his own daughters in marriage when they got back to Greece and about his own weight in gold and ornaments. Achilles stood his visitors a jolly good blow-out but refused to budge.