Homer, Iliad

Nor did Paris tarry long in his lofty house, but did on his glorious armour, dight with bronze, [505] and hastened through the city, trusting in his fleetness of foot. Even as when a stalled horse that has fed his fill at the manger breaketh his halter and runneth stamping over the plain—being wont to bathe him in the fair-flowing river—and exulteth; on high doth he hold his head, and about his shoulders [510] his mane floateth streaming, and as he glorieth in his splendour, his knees nimbly bear him to the haunts and pastures of mares; even so Paris, son of Priam, strode down from high Pergamus, all gleaming in his armour like the shining sun, laughing for glee, and his swift feet bare him on. Speedily then [515] he overtook goodly Hector, his brother, even as he was about to turn back from the place where he had dallied with his wife. Then godlike Alexander was first to speak to him, saying: “My brother, full surely I delay thee in thine haste by my long tarrying, and came not in due season, as thou badest me.” [520] Then in answer to him spake Hector of the flashing helm:“Strange man, no one that is rightminded could make light of thy work in battle, for thou art valiant; but of thine own will art thou slack, and hast no care; and thereat my heart is grieved within me, whenso I hear regarding thee words of shame [525] from the lips of the Trojans, who because of thee have grievous toil. But let us go our way; these things we will make good hereafter, if so be Zeus shall grant us to set for the heavenly gods that are for ever a bowl of deliverance in our halls, when we have driven forth from the land of Troy the well-greaved Achaeans.”