Lines 304-453

So he spake, and the king bade him take and don on a cloak and a tunic. And they bound the horse with chains of oxhide and drew it with well-plaited ropes over the plain, mounted on its swift wheels and filled with chieftains; and before it flutes and lyres made shrill minstrelsy together. Wretched generation of heedless mortals! for whom a mist which they cannot pierce enwraps the future. By reason of empty joy many men many times stumble unwittingly on destruction: even as at that time ruinous doom for the Trojans rioted on its own way into the city, and none knew that it was fierce sorrow unforgettable that they drew. And gathering flowers from the dewy river they wreathed the tresses on the neck of their slayer. The earth torn about the brazen wheels moaned terribly, and the axles of iron, grinding in them, groaned with harsh noise. The joining of knit ropes creaked and all the taut coiling chain sent up a fiery smoke. And as they haled, loud rose the din and the vaunting. Groaned shady Ida together with her nymph-haunted oaks: the eddying waters of the river Xanthus shrieked, and the mouth of Simois rang aloud: and in the heaven the trumpet of Zeus prophesied of the war they drew.

But they haled forward; and the long way waxed heavy, torn with rivers and not like plain lands. And the flashing horse followed them unto the altars dear to Ares, glorying exceedingly; and Athena set her might thereto, laying her heavy hands on the newly carven thighs of the horse. So it sped beyond overtaking, and ran on swifter than an arrow, following the Trojans with lightly prancing feet, until it reached the Dardan gates. And for its coming the folding doors were straitened. But Hera set it free once more to run its course, withdrawing the doors before it, while from the towers Poseidon with his trident drave back the posts of the opening gates. And the Trojan women throughout the city, some here, some there, brides and maidens unwed and mothers experienced of Eileithyia circled about the image with song and dance. Others culling the fresh bounty of the rain strewed a rosy carpet for the wooden trail. Others undid the spun girdles of sea-purple about their breasts and with woven garlands wreathed the horse. Some broaching the seal of a great jar poured forth wine mixed with golden saffron and made the piled earth odorous with fragrant mud. With the shouting of men was mingled the cry of women, the huzza of boys was joined with the voice of age. And even as the denizens of rich Ocean, the attendants of winter, the ranks of the cranes crying in air, align the circle of their wandering dance, uttering their notes abhorred by the ploughmen who labour the earth: even so with crying and with tumult they led to the acropolis the horse laden within.

And the god-driven daughter of Priam would not abide any more to her chamber. Tearing apart the bars she ran, like restless heifer whom the sting of the ox-tormenting gadfly has smitten and stung to frenzy: which looks no more to the herd nor obeys the herdsman nor yearns for the pasture, but whetted by the sharp dart she passes beyond the range of oxen: in such wise, her heart distraught by the pricking of the shafts of prophecy, the maiden shook the holy laurel wreath and cried everywhere throughout the city. She heeded nor parents nor friends, and maiden shame forsook her. Not so doth the pleasant flute of Dionysus raging on the hills strike the Thracian woman amid the thickets: who, smitten by the god, strains a wild eye and shakes her naked head dark-garlanded with ivy. So Cassandra, starting from her winged wits, raged god-maddened; and, beating ever and again hair and breast, she cried with frenzied voice:

"O wretched men! why rage ye possessed, dragging this unfriendly horse, hasting to your last night and the end of war and the sleep that knows no waking? This warlike rout comes from the foemen. Surely now the travail of the dreams of poor Hecabe bears fruit. The long deferred year comes to an end with the resolving of the war. Such a company of chieftains comes, whom the mighty horse shall bring forth in the darkest night, flashing in their armour for battle; now shall warriors most perfect leap to earth and rush to the fray. For not women shall deliver the labouring steed in its travail and attend the birth of men, but she that wrought it shall herself be its Lady of Deliverance; Athena, sacker of cities, midwife of a dolorous birth, shall herself undo the pregnant belly and utter her cry. Lo! now there is rolled within the towers a purple sea of blood outpoured, a wave of death; about the hands of women, sharing the common doom, the bonds of bridal are twined: beneath the wooden planks lurks hidden fire. Alas! for my woes, alas! for thee, city of my fathers, soon shalt thou be fine dust: gone is the handiwork of the immortals, gone utterly the foundations of Laomedon.

"And for thee, my father, and for thee, my mother, I weep to think what manner of things ye both shall suffer. Thou, my father, piteously fallen shalt lie beside the altar of mighty Zeus of the Court. Mother of the best of children, thee from human shape the gods shall turn into a hound maddened over thy children. Fair Polyxena, for thee lying low near to thy fatherland I shall weep but little: would that someone of the Argives had slain me too with thy lamented fate! For what profit have I in life any more, if life but keep me for a most pitiful death, and an alien soil shall cover me? Such things for me and such a doom for King Agamemnon himself doth my mistress weave, his reward for all his labours. But now take ye heed -- in suffering shall ye learn the truth of my words -- and put away, my friends, the cloud of infatuate folly. Let the body of the capacious horse be rent with hatchets or burnt with fire. And hiding crafty persons as it does, let it perish and be greatly regretted by the Danaans. And then feast ye and array you for the dance, setting up mixing-bowls in honour of dear liberty.”

So she spake; but no one hearkened to her; for Apollo made her at once a good prophet and unbelieved. And her father spake and rebuked her: "What spirit of ill name hath brought thee again, prophetess of evil, bold dog-fly? Vainly dost thou try to stay us with thy barking. Is thy mind not yet weary of its plague of madness, and hast thou not had thy fill of ill-omened ravings, but thou hast come in vexation at our mirth, when Zeus, the son of Cronus, hath lighted for us all the day of freedom and scattered the ships of the Achaeans? And no longer are the long spears brandished, no longer are the bows drawn, no longer flash the swords, the arrows are silent. But dances and honey-breathing music is ours and no more strife: no more wails the mother over the child, nor doth the wife send her husband to the fray and weep, a widow, over his corpse. Athena, guardian of the city, welcomes the horse which is drawn along. But thou, bold maiden, rushing before the house with false prophecies and wild raving, labourest to no purpose and pollutest the holy city. Go to! but our care is dance and mirth. For no longer is terror left under the walls of Troy, and no longer have we need of thy prophetic voice.”

So he spake, and bade lead away the frenzied maiden, hiding her in her chamber. And hardly and against her will she obeyed her parent, and throwing herself upon her maiden bed she wept, knowing her own doom: already she beheld the fire raging on the walls of her burning fatherland. But the others at the temple of the goddess Athena, guardian of the city set up the horse on well-polished pedestal, and burned fair offerings on savoury altars; but the immortals refused their vain hecatombs. And there was festival in the town and infinite lust, lust uplifting the drunkenness of wine that unmans. And all the city was filled with foolishness and gaped with heedlessness, and few warders watched the gates; for now the light of day was sinking and fateful night wrapped steep Ilios for destruction.