Lines 268-394

"Stranger, whence art thou? declare thy fair lineage even unto us. In beauty thou art like untoa glorious king, but thy family I know not among the Argives. I know all the family of blameless Deucalion. Not in sandy Pylus, the land of Neleus, hast thou thy dwelling: Antilochus I know, but thy face I have not seen; not in gracious Phthia, nurse of chieftains; I know the whole renowned race of the sons of Aeacus, the beauty of Peleus, the fair fame of Telamon, the gentleness of Patroclus and the prowess of Achilles.”

So, yearning for Paris, spake the lady of sweet voice. And he opened honeyed speech and answered her: "If haply thou hast heard of a town in the bounds of Phrygia, even Ilios, whereof Poseidon built the towers and Apollo: if thou hast haply heard of a very wealthy king in Troy, sprung from the fruitful race of Cronus: thence am I a prince and pursue all the works of my race. I, lady, am the dear son of Priam rich in gold, of the lineage of Dardanus am I, and Dardanus was the son of Zeus. And the gods from Olympus, companioning with men, oft-tines became his servants, albeit they were immortal: of whom Poseidon with Apollo built the shining walls of our fatherland. And I, O Queen, am the judge of goddesses. For, deciding a suit for the aggrieved daughters of heaven, I praised the beauty of Cypris and her lovely form. And she vowed that she would give me a worthy recompense of my labour, even a glorious and a lovely bride, whom they call Helen, sister of Aphrodite; and it is for her sake that I have endured to cross such seas. Come, let us join wedlock, since Cythereia bids. Despise me not, put not my love to shame. I will not say -- why should I tell thee who knowest so much? for thou knowest that Menelaus is of an unvaliant race. Not such as thou are women born among the Argives; for they wax with meaner limbs and have the look of men and are but bastard women."

So he spake. And the lady fixed her lovely eyes upon the ground, and long time perplexed replied not. But at last amazed she uttered her voice and said: “Of a surety, O stranger, did Poseidon and Apollo in days of old build the foundation of thy fatherland? Fain would I have seen those cunning works of the immortals and the shrill-blowing pasture of shepherd Apollo, where by the god-built vestibules of the gates Apollo often-times followed the kine of shuffling gait. Come now, carry me from Sparta unto Troy. I will follow, as Cythereia, queen of wedlock, bids. I do not fear Menelaus, when Troy shall have known me.”

So the fair-ankled lady plighted her troth. And night, respite from labour after the journey of the sun, lightened sleep and brought the beginning of wandering morn; and opened the two gates of dreams: one the gate of truth -- it shone with the sheen of horn -- whence leap forth the unerring messages of the gods; the other the gate of deceit, nurse of empty dreams. And he carried Helen from the bowers of hospitable Menelaus to the benches of his sea-faring ships; and exulting exceedingly in the promise of Cythereia he hastened to carry to Ilios his freight of war.

And Hermione cast to the winds her veil and, as morning rose, wailed with many tears. And often taking her handmaidens outside her chamber, with shrillest cries she uttered her voice and said: “Girls, whither hath my mother gone and left me in grievous sorrow, she that yester-even with me took the keys of the chamber and entered one bed with me and fell asleep?”

So spake she weeping and the girls wailed with her. And the women gathered by the vestibule on either side and sought to stay Hermione in her lamentation: "Sorrowing child, stay thy lamentation; thy mother has gone, yet shall she come back again. While still thou weepest, thou shalt see her. Seest not? thine eyes are blinded with tears and thy blooming cheeks are marred with much weeping. Haply she hath gone to a meeting of women in assembly and, wandering from the straight path, stands distressed, or she hath gone to the meadow and sits on the dewy plain of the Hours, or she hath gone to wash her body in the river of her fathers and lingered by the streams of Eurotas.”

Then spake the sorrowful maiden weeping: “She knows the hill, she hath skill of the rivers’ flow, she knows the paths to the roses, to the meadow. What say ye to me, women? The stars sleep and she rests among the rocks; the stars rise, and she comes not home. My mother, where art thou? in what hills dost thou dwell? Have wild beasts slain thee in thy wandering? but even the wild beasts tremble before the offspring of high Zeus. Hast thou fallen from thy car on the levels of the dusty ground, and left thy body in the lonely thickets? but I have scanned the trees of the many-trunked copses in the shady wood, yea, even to the very leaves, yet thy form have I not seen; and the wood I do not blame. Have the smooth waters covered thee in the depths, swimming in the wet streams of murmuring Eurotas? but even in the rivers and in the depths of the sea the Naiads live and do not slay women.”

Thus she wailed, and leaning back her neck breathed Sleep who walks with Death; for verily it was ordained that both should have all things in common and pursue the works of the elder brother: hence women, weighed down with sorrowing eyes, oft-times,while they weep, fall asleep. And wandering amid the deceits of dreams she fancied that she saw her mother; and, amazed, the maiden, in her grief cried out: "Yesterday to my sorrow thou didst fly from me out of the house and left me sleeping on my father’s bed. What mountain have I left alone? What hill have I neglected? Followest thou thus the love of fair-tressed Aphrodite?”

Then the daughter of Tyndareus spake to her and said: "My sorrowful child, blame me not, who have suffered terrible things. The deceitful man who came yesterday hath carried me away!”

So she spake, And the maiden leapt up, and seeing not her mother, uttered a yet more piercing cry and wailed: "Birds, winged children of the brood of air, go ye to Crete, and say to Menelaus: ‘Yesterday a lawless man came to Sparta and hath laid waste all the glory of thy halls!’”

So spake she with many tears to the air, and seeking for her mother wandered in vain. And to the towns of the Cicones and the straits of Aeolian Helle, into the havens of Dardania the bridegroom brought his bride. And Cassandra on the acropolis, when she beheld the new-comer, tore her hair amain and flung away her golden veil. But Troy unbarred the bolts of her high-built gates and received on his return her citizen that was the source of her woe.