There, and in ships along the clouded main,
Led by Achilleus to the spoil, did drain,
With those our fightings round the fortress high
Of Priam king. There all our best were slain—
There the brave Aias and Achilleus lie;
Patroclus there, whose wisdom matched the gods on high.
Who in his strength was all so void of blame—
Swift runner, and staunch warrior.'"
Nestor shows the same love of story-telling which marks his character in the Iliad. Modern critics who are inclined to accuse the old chief of garrulity should remember that, in an age in which there were no daily newspapers with their "special correspondents," a good memory and a fluent tongue were very desirable qualifications of old age. The old campaigner in his retirement was the historian of his own times. Unless he told his story often and at length amongst the men of a younger generation when they met at the banquet, all memory of the gallant deeds of old would be lost, and even the professional bard would have lacked the data on which to build his lay. Many a Nestor must have been ready—in season and out of season—to
"Shoulder his crutch, and show how fields were won,"
before any Homer could have sung of the Trojan war. Even now, we are ready to listen readily to the veteran's reminiscences of a past generation, whether in war or peace, who has a retentive memory and a pleasant style—only he now commonly tells his story in print.
Nestor proceeds to tell his guests how the gods, after Troy was taken, had stirred up strife between
