Book 12

12. But when the spear-bearing Danaans had toiled much about the walls of Troy, and there was no end of the war in sight, then Calchas made a gathering of the chiefs, knowing well in his heart, by the promptings of the Far-shooter, the flights of birds and the stars and all the other signs that come to men by the will of the gods, and to them as they assembled he spoke a word like this: "No longer sit before the walls and toil, but devise some other plan in your minds and a stratagem, which shall be a help to the host and to us; for indeed yesterday I saw here a sign: a hawk pursued a dove; and she, hard pressed, sank into a cleft of the rock; and he, enraged at her, remained near for a very long while in his grief beside the cleft; but she shunned him; and he, setting dire wrath in his heart, hid himself in a bush; and she darted out in her folly, thinking him far off; but he, leaping up, loosed groaning death upon the wretched dove; so let us now not by force seek to sack the Trojan town, but see if some guile and craft will avail." So he spoke; but none of them said he could devise in mind a defence against the wretched fray; and they sought to find a remedy; and alone in his wisdom did the son of Laertes perceive it, and spoke a word in answer: "O friend, wholly honoured by the heavenly gods, if it is truly fated for the warlike Achaeans to sack the city of Priam by guile, let us build a horse, and we chiefs, the best men, will go gladly into the ambush; and the host shall depart to Tenedos with the ships, and let all burn their huts, that the Trojans, looking out from the city, may pour into the plain, fearless; but let some man, a bold one, whom none among the Trojans knows, remain outside the horse, setting a warlike heart in him, who shall answer that the overweening might of the Achaeans did the deed, in their longing for return, eager to escape, crouching beneath the well-made horse; which they laboured to make for Pallas, angered on behalf of the Trojan spearmen; and let him declare this at length to those who question, until they trust him, harsh though they are, and lead him swiftly into the city, pitiable as he is, that a grievous sign for our war may come to us, to those men a smoking beacon raised swiftly aloft, to the others a summons to come forth from the broad horse, when the sons of Troy sleep heedless." So he spoke; and all praised him; but beyond all others Calchas marvelled at him, that he had set before the Achaeans such cunning and a noble stratagem, which for the Argives was to be a help to victory, but a great woe for the Trojans; and therefore among the warlike chiefs he spoke: "No longer now devise another stratagem in your minds, O friends, but obey warlike Odysseus; nor shall his counsel be vain, since he is wise of heart; for already the gods are bringing the Danaans' desire to pass, and signs unfulfilled appear from this side and that: for above, through the clear sky, Zeus' thunders crash together with the lightnings; and beside the host there dart birds on the right, screaming with shrill cry. But come, let us no longer for a long time about the city remain; for great necessity has breathed into the Trojans courage, which rouses even a worthless man toward war; and men are strongest in battle then, when, staking their lives, they take no heed of groaning destruction; as now the sons of Troy, fearless, fight on about their city; and the heart in them rages greatly." To him as he spoke the mighty son of Achilles answered: "O Calchas, against the foe brave men fight face to face; but those within, shunning them from the towers, are worthless and toil there, whose hearts fear oppresses; therefore let us now devise neither stratagem nor any other device; for it befits the best men to be men by toil and by the spear; for bold warriors are better in battle." To him as he spoke the might of the son of Laertes answered: "O strong-hearted child of fearless Aeacides, these things, as befits a noble blameless man, you have gone through all very boldly, trusting in your hands; but neither your unwearied father's dauntless valour had strength to lay waste the prosperous city of Priam, nor we, for all our much toiling; but come, more swiftly, by the counsels of Calchas, going to the swift ships, let us build a horse by the hands of Epeius, who is by far the best among the Argives for craftsmanship; and Athena taught him the work." So he spoke; and all the chiefs obeyed him, save warlike Neoptolemus; nor did the noble mind of Philoctetes, who thought strong thoughts, persuade him; for they were still insatiate of the wretched fray. And they were eager to fight in the turmoil; and around the host, their own men, they bade bring up about the boundless wall all things that further strife in war, hoping to lay waste the well-built town; for both had come to the war by the counsels of the gods. And now they would soon have accomplished all their hearts desired, had not Zeus been wroth from the sky, and about the earth made it quake beneath the Argives' feet, and shook together all the air above, and cast the unwearied thunderbolt before the heroes; and all Dardania thundered in answer; and at once their noble purpose turned to fear; and they forgot their strength and noble might, and to famed Calchas, even unwilling, they yielded; and they came to the ships with the Argives and the others, in awe of the seer, who, they said, was of Zeus, of Zeus or Phoebus; and they obeyed him in all things.

And when the gleaming stars wheeled round the sky, shining on every side, and man forgets his toil, then Athena, leaving the high seat of the blessed ones, came in the likeness in all things of a tender-skinned maiden to the ships and the host; and over the head of war-loved Epeius she stood in a dream, and bade him build a wooden horse; and she said that to him as he laboured she herself would help, and herself would straightway come near, urging him on to the work. And he, hearing the goddess' word, exulting in his heart, leaped up from heedless sleep; and he knew the immortal, deathless god; nor did his heart ponder aught else, but kept his mind ever on the work divine; and skilful craft went through his wits.

And when Dawn came, having thrust the kindly darkness into Erebus, and the bright gleam went through the air, then his divine dream did Epeius among the Argives, as he had seen, as he had heard, tell to them in their longing; and they, hearing him, rejoiced boundlessly. And then the sons of Atreus sent swift men to come to the flourishing glens of high-leaved Ida; and they, falling upon the firs in the forest, cut the tall trees; and the glens rang round as they were struck; and the long peaks along the great mountains were stripped of their thickets; and all the dell appeared, no longer so lovely to the wild beasts as before; and the trunks withered, longing for the force of the wind. And the Achaeans, cleaving them with their axes, swiftly bore them to the shores of the Hellespont from the wooded mountain; and the spirit toiled at the work, of the men and the mules; and the host laboured unspeakably, each from his place serving Epeius; for some cut with the jagged iron the beams and measured out the planks; and others from the boughs smoothed with axes the still-unsawn logs, and each man did this thing or that, toiling; but Epeius fashioned the feet of the wooden horse, and then the belly, and on it above he fitted the back and the loins behind, and the neck in front, and above the mane he set upon the lofty neck, as though it truly moved, and the shaggy head and the fair-haired tail, the ears and the clear eyes and all else by which a horse is moved; and the holy work grew as of one truly living, since the god had given the man lovely craft; and in three days all was finished by the promptings of Pallas; and the great host of the Argives rejoiced; and they marvelled how in the wood spirit and swiftness of feet had been wrought, and it seemed to neigh.

And then noble Epeius, over the huge-bulked horse, prayed to the unwearied Tritonian, stretching out his hands: "Hear me, great-hearted goddess, and save me and your horse." So he spoke; and the goddess of many counsels, Athena, heard him, and made the work a wonder to all men on earth, to all who saw it and who heard of it after. But when the Danaans rejoiced, beholding the work of Epeius, and the Trojans, terrified within their towers, remained, shunning death and pitiless doom, then at the streams of Ocean and the caves of Tethys, when Zeus, high of heart, had gone apart from the gods, strife fell upon the immortals; and their spirit was divided as they were stirred; and mounting on the gusts of the winds they were borne from heaven to earth; and beneath them the air roared; and coming to the streams of Xanthus they stood face to face against one another, some on the Achaeans' side, others over the Trojans; and the lust of war fell on their hearts. And with them gathered also those who held the broad sea. And some, in anger, longed to bring the guileful horse to nothing along with the ships, and others lovely Ilium; but wily Fate held them back, and into turmoil turned the minds of the blessed ones; and Ares began the fray, and leaped against Athena; and so the others too fell upon one another; and about them their immortal armour, golden, as they moved, rang loud; and around them the broad sea crashed; and the dark earth trembled beneath the immortals' feet; and all together they shouted long. And the terrible din reached up to the broad sky, even to the pit of high-hearted Aïdoneus; and the Titans beneath quaked greatly; and around them tall Ida groaned, all of it, and the sounding streams of the ever-flowing rivers, and with them the long ravines, and the ships of the Argives and the famous city of Priam. But there was no fear upon men; nor did they perceive, by the gods' own promptings, their strife; and they, breaking off peaks with their hands from the Idaean mountain, hurled them at one another; but these, like grains of sand, were easily scattered about the unyielding limbs of the gods, breaking into little pieces. But at the ends of the earth from Zeus his noble purpose did not escape; leaving at once the streams of Ocean he went up to the broad sky; and him there bore the East wind and the North, and with them the West and the South, whom under a wondrous yoke gleaming Iris led, of the car that is forever, which deathless Time fashioned for him with unwearied hands out of unbreakable adamant. And he came to the great peak of Olympus; and he shook all the air above in his wrath; and from this side and that the thunders crashed loud together with the lightnings; and the thunderbolts fell thick upon the earth; and the air burned unspeakably; and fear fell upon the immortals' hearts; and the limbs of all trembled, immortal though they were. And glorious Themis, in dread of them, swift as thought leaped through the clouds; and quickly she reached them; for she alone remained apart from the groaning fray; and she spoke such a word, holding them back from fighting: "Cease from the ill-sounding strife; for it does not befit you, when Zeus is wroth, for the sake of short-lived men to fight, you who are forever, since soon you all will be unseen; for indeed from above upon you all the mountains he will break into one, and neither sons nor daughters will he spare, but all alike from above will he cover with boundless earth; nor will there be escape for you to the light; but grim gloom will hold you forever." So she spoke; and they obeyed, trembling at Zeus' threat, and ceased from the battle, and cast far away their wrath, grievous as it was, and made friendship and concord; and some went toward the sky, others into the sea, and others remained on earth. And to the warlike Achaeans the son of Laertes, shrewd of mind, spoke a word: "O famed leaders of the Argives, strong of heart, now in my longing give me proof, who are you that are exceedingly strong and blameless; for now there comes the work of necessity; but let us be mindful of Ares, and go into the well-polished horse, that we may find an end of the ill-sounding war; for thus it will be better if by guile and grievous counsels we sack the great city, for whose sake, having come hither, we suffer many pains far from our dear land. But come now, setting noble and valiant spirit in your minds . . . for even in battle, beneath grim necessity, a man, taking courage in his heart, has slain a better man, though weaker born; for greatly does courage exalt the spirit, which especially is glory for men. But come, you chiefs, make ready the noble ambush; and let the rest, going to the holy city of Tenedos, remain, until the foe drag us to the city, hoping to bring a gift to the Tritonian. And let some noble warrior, whom the Trojans do not know well, remain near the horse, setting an iron heart in him; and let all be wholly steadfast in his care, all that I have said before; and let him think nothing else in his mind, that the Achaeans' deeds may not be made plain to the Trojans." So he spoke; and Sinon answered him, a glorious man, while the others feared; for a very great deed was he to accomplish; therefore the broad host marvelled at him, wise of heart; and he among them all spoke: "O Odysseus, and all you noblest sons of the Achaeans, this deed I will accomplish for you in your longing, even if they maltreat me, and even if they purpose with fire to cast me, alive as I am; for this is pleasing to my heart, either to die by the hands of the foemen, or to escape, bearing great glory to the Argives in their longing." So he spoke boldly; and the Argives greatly rejoiced; and one said: "How to this man a god has given great courage today; for before he was not bold; but a god urges him on, to become an evil to all the Trojans, or to us both; for now I think, swiftly though it comes, that the end of the grievous war will be unseen." So spoke one among the host of the war-loving Achaeans; and Nestor on the other side, urging them on, said: "Now is there need, dear children, of strength and noble courage; for now the gods are bringing to our longing hands the end of toil and blameless victory; but come, boldly, from within the capacious horse go forth, since to mortals great courage grants glory; would that great strength yet lay in my knees, as when the son of Aeson, within his swift-faring ship the Argo, called the chiefs, when I was first of the chiefs eager to go down, had not godlike Pelias held me back against my will; but now grievous old age comes upon me; yet even so, as a young man in his youth, I will go down within the horse boldly; for courage will grant glory and renown." To him as he spoke the son of fair-haired Achilles answered: "O Nestor, you are foremost in mind of all men; but pitiless old age has seized you round about, nor is your strength steadfast, though you long for the toil; therefore you must go back to the shores of Tenedos; and into the ambush we young men, still insatiate of battle, will go, as you, old man, bid us in our longing." So he spoke; and the son of Neleus, coming close to him, kissed both his hands and his head above, because he had promised first to go down into the broad horse, and bade him, the elder, remain outside with the other Danaans; for he longed to toil; and he addressed him, eager for the fray: "You are of your father's might and kindly speech, godlike Achilles; and I trust that by your hands the Argives will sack the famed city of Priam; late, after toil, great glory will be ours, who have laboured much in the turmoil, with grievous pains; for the gods set pains at the feet of men, but noble things far off; and toil they set between; therefore easy is the road for men into grievous misery, but painful toward glory, until one passes through the groaning toil with his feet." So he spoke; and the glorious son of Achilles answered him: "O old man, as you hope in your heart, so may it be for us as we pray, since it is far better thus; but if the gods will otherwise, let this too be borne; for I would rather perish gloriously beneath Ares than flee from Troy and bear many reproaches." So speaking, he set upon his shoulders the immortal armour of his father; and at once they too armed themselves, the best of the heroes, all whose hearts were bold. Tell me now, you Muses, as I ask of each one clearly, all who went down into the capacious horse; for you set all the song in my mind, before yet the down was spread about my cheeks, while I pastured my famed flocks in the plains of Smyrna, thrice as far from the Hermus as a shouting man can be heard, about the temple of Artemis in the Garden of Freedom, on a hill neither too low nor very high. First went down into the huge horse the son of Achilles, and with him strong Menelaus and Odysseus and Sthenelus and godlike Diomedes; and Philoctetes went, and Anticlus, and Menestheus, and with them high-hearted Thoas and fair-haired Polypoetes, and Ajax and Eurypylus and Thrasymedes the godlike, and Meriones and Idomeneus, both glorious, and with them Podalirius of the good ashen spear, and Eurymachus, and Teucer the godlike, and Ialmenus strong of heart, and Thalpius and Antimachus and war-steadfast Leonteus; and with them went godlike Eumelus and Euryalus and Demophoon and Amphimachus and strong Agapenor, and with them Acamas and Meges, son of mighty Phyleus; and others went down, all who were the very best, as many as the well-polished horse could hold within. And among them last went down noble Epeius, who had built the horse; and he knew in his own heart both how to open its folds and to close them again; therefore he went last of all; and he drew within the ladders by which they had climbed; and, having fitted all firmly, he sat there beside the bolt; and they in silence all stayed between victory and destruction alike. And the others sailed away with the ships over the broad sea, having burned the huts where before they themselves had lain. And over them two strong-hearted men ruled and commanded, Nestor and the spearman Agamemnon; and these too, though they longed to go down within the horse, the Argives held back, that, remaining in the ships, they might command the host, since it is far better that men go about their work when their lords look on; therefore they remained outside, chiefs though they were. And they came swiftly to the shores of Tenedos; and there they cast their anchors into the deep; and they themselves came out of the ships in haste; and they bound their cables off on the shores; and they themselves there remained at ease, waiting until the beacon should appear to them in their longing. And those in the horse were near the foe, now indeed thinking they would perish, now that they would sack the holy city; and upon their longing came the child of Morning. The Trojans saw on the shores of the Hellespont smoke still rising through the air; but they did not see the ships, which had brought them from Hellas dire destruction. And gladly all ran to the shore, having put on their armour; for still fear held their hearts; and they saw the well-polished horse; and about it they stood in wonder; for a very great work had been wrought; and near it again they saw ill-fated Sinon; and questioning him about the Danaans, one from this side, one from that, they ringed him round in the midst, standing about him; and at first with gentle words they questioned him; but afterward with terrible shouting; and long they tormented the guileful man, ever for a long time; but he, firm as a rock, remained, clothed about with unyielding limbs; and at last they cut from his body alike his ears and his nose, maiming him utterly, that he might speak the truth, where the Danaans had gone with their ships, and whether the horse held aught within. But he, setting strength in his heart, heeded not the unseemly outrage, but in his spirit endured both the blows and being tortured in the fire grievously; for Hera breathed great strength into him; and such guileful words he spoke in their midst: "The Argives are fleeing in their ships over the sea, worn out by the long war and the misery; and by the will of Calchas, for warlike Tritogeneia, they built the horse, that they might escape the wrath of the goddess, who was utterly enraged on behalf of the Trojans; and concerning their return, by the promptings of Odysseus they purposed my destruction, that they might slay me beside the ill-sounding sea for the deities of the deep. But it did not escape me, but the grievous libations and the barley-meal I swiftly shunned, and by the will of the immortals I fell down at the feet of the horse; and they, though unwilling, of necessity left me, in awe of the strong-hearted daughter of great Zeus." So he spoke with cunning, and his heart did not weary under pains; for it belongs to a strong man to endure evil necessity. And some throughout the host believed him; but others said he was a wily deceiver, to whom the counsel of Laocoon was pleasing; for he, speaking wise words, said it was a dire stratagem by the promptings of the Achaeans, and urged all swiftly to burn the horse, the wooden horse, and to learn if it hid anything. And now they would have obeyed him and escaped destruction, had not Tritogeneia, wroth in her heart against him and the Trojans and the city, shaken the earth beneath divinely, beneath the feet of Laocoon. And straightway fear fell upon him; trembling broke the limbs of the high-hearted man; and over his head black night was poured; and a hateful pain fell upon his eyelids, and confounded the man's eyes beneath his shaggy brows; and his eyeballs, pierced with grievous pains, were stirred from their roots; and his pupils whirled about, tormented within; and grievous anguish came even to the membranes and the foundations of the brain; and at one time his eyes seemed mingled with much blood, at another, hard to heal, gleaming pale; and often they ran, as when from a hard rock water trickles down from the mountains, mixed with snow; and he was like a madman, and saw all things double, groaning terribly. And still he urged the Trojans on, nor heeded his torment; and the noble light from him took the divine goddess; and beneath his eyelids his eyes stood white from the deadly blood; and the host groaned round about, pitying the dear man, and dreading the immortal Driver-of-Spoil, lest in his folly he had somehow offended, and within them their mind was bent toward dire destruction, fearing lest grief follow upon them too, because they had maltreated the body of wretched Sinon, hoping in their hearts that he would tell all things truly; therefore they led him eagerly into the Trojan city, pitying him at last. And all gathering together quickly cast a rope about the huge horse, binding it above, since for it noble Epeius had set beneath its sturdy feet well-running wheels, that it might follow the men toward the city, dragged by the hands of the Trojans. And all together they hauled, bearing down in a throng, as when a ship men drag with toil into the sounding sea, the men, and the sturdy rollers groan round about, worn down, and dreadfully the keel, creaking on every side, slips and goes down into the swell of the sea; so they, their own bane, the work of Epeius, toward the city with all their force, toiling, hauled up; and about it they set in plenty a flourishing adornment of garlands; and themselves they crowned their heads; and loud the flutes blew, calling one to another; and Enyo laughed, beholding the evil end of war; and on high Hera took delight; and Athena rejoiced; and they, coming to their own city, the veil of the great town loosed, and led in the baneful horse; and the women of Troy raised a cry, and all, standing round and gazing, marvelled at the mighty work; but it hid from them their bane.

And Laocoon still remained, urging his comrades to bring the horse to nothing with consuming fire; but they in no way obeyed him, for they dreaded the immortals' threat. And against him the great-hearted goddess Athena devised another deed yet more cruel for the wretched children of Laocoon. For there was a cave beneath a rugged rock, misty, untrodden by mortals, in which terrible beasts dwelt, of the still deadly brood of Typhon, in the folds of the island which men call Calydne, in the sea over against Troy. Thence she roused the might of the serpents and called them to Troy; and they, straightway stirred by the goddess, shook the whole island; and the sea crashed round as they went, and the wave parted; and they were borne on, darting out their dread tongues; and the monsters of the sea shuddered; and round about loudly groaned the daughters of Xanthus, the nymphs, and of Simoeis; and from Olympus Cypris grieved; and they swiftly came where the goddess urged them, whetting on their grim jaws the bane of their teeth against the wretched children; and evil panic came over the Trojans, when they saw the dread monsters through the city; nor did any of the warriors, even one of fearless might, dare to stay; for pitiless dread held them all as they fled the beasts, and anguish held them; and the women wailed aloud; and one even forgot her own children, herself fleeing the hateful doom; and about Troy there was groaning as they rushed on; and many, coming together into one, had their limbs torn, and were crowded in the streets crouching all about. And Laocoon was left alone, far off, with his children; for deadly Fate fettered them, and the goddess. And the serpents, his sons, trembling at destruction, both of them, snatched up in their deadly jaws, as they stretched out their hands to their dear father; nor could he ward it off; and the Trojans, looking on from afar, wept in their hearts, dumb with astonishment. And they, having eagerly fulfilled Athena's command, hateful to the Trojans, both vanished beneath the earth; and still a token of them appears, where they sank into the holy ground of Apollo in sacred Pergamus. And before it the sons of Troy, the children of Laocoon being pitilessly slain, made, gathering together, an empty tomb, over which the tears the father shed, with sightless eyes; and around it the mother, much lamenting, cried over the empty tomb, expecting some other thing still worse, and groaned over the ruin of her husband's folly, and dreaded the blessed ones' wrath; as when about her desolate nest she mourns greatly grieving, in a shadowy glen, a nightingale, whose little children, before they could sing their clear song, the might of a grim serpent has slain beneath its jaws, and set woes upon the mother, and grieving boundlessly she mourns about the empty home, crying aloud; so she lamented over the wretched destruction of her children, mourning about the empty tomb; and with her another woe, very grievous, was, concerning her sightless husband. And she wailed for her dear children and her husband, the ones being dead, the other bereft of the sun; but the Trojans made ready offerings to the immortals, pouring sweet wine, since their hearts hoped to escape the heavy might of the wretched war. But the sacrifices would not burn, and the breath of the fire was quenched, as when from above an ill-sounding rain comes rushing; and bloody smoke gushed up; and all the thigh-pieces fell to the ground trembling; and the altars crashed down; and the libations turned to blood; and tears flowed from the gods, and the temples were wet with gore; and groans were borne from somewhere unforeseen; and the long walls shook and the towers crashed loud, as if grieving; and of themselves the bolts of the gates flew open, crying terribly; and there groaned dolefully night-birds, crying their desolate cry; and all the stars above the god-built city a mist enwrapped, though the gleaming sky was without cloud; and the laurels withered by the temple of Phoebus, that before were flourishing; and wolves and shameless jackals howled within the gates; and very many other things appeared, signs to the children of Dardanus, bringing woe to the city. But no grievous dread came upon the Trojans' hearts as they beheld all the grievous portents through the city; for the Fates cast out the mind of all, that at the feast they might fill up their doom, laid low by the Argives. Alone with steadfast heart and prudent thought was Cassandra, whose word was never unfulfilled, but ever true; yet it was heard, by some fate, as ever empty, that pains might come upon the Trojans. She, when she saw the baleful signs through the city rushing together into one, cried aloud, like a lioness, whom in a thicket a man, eager for the hunt, has wounded or struck, and the heart in her breast rages . . . everywhere over the long mountains, and her fury is unrestrained; so she, with raging heart of prophecy within, came forth from the hall; and her hair streamed over her white shoulders, going down to her back; and her eyes flashed wildly; and beneath her, her neck, like a tree-trunk in the winds, swayed continually all about. And greatly the noble maiden groaned and cried aloud: "Ah, wretches, now we go down into the dark; for around us the city is full of fire and blood and dire doom; everywhere the immortals show tearful portents, and at our feet are the bounds of destruction. Foolish ones, you know not at all your evil fate, but all alike you rejoice in your folly, who have led into the city yourselves the Argives' baleful horse; for it hides within a great woe. But you will not believe me, even if I say much, because the Furies, wroth at the height of the dire marriage about Helen, and the pitiless Fates, dart everywhere through the city; and at a grievous feast you devour your last suppers, befouled with evil gore, already treading the same road as the phantoms of the dead." And one, mocking, spoke a baleful word: "O daughter of Priam, why now does your wanton tongue and ill counsel bid you speak all things empty? Neither does maidenly and pure modesty enfold you, but deadly madness has overrun you; therefore now all mortals ever dishonour you, full of words as you are. Begone, and to the Argives and to yourself foretell your evil prophecy; for soon a more grievous pain awaits you than shameless Laocoon's; for it is not fitting to destroy in folly the dear gifts of the immortals." So spoke one of the Trojans through the city; and so others too reproached the maiden, and said she spoke not aright, because to them woe and the grievous might of Fate stood near at hand; but they, not knowing their destruction, mocking her, kept her from the broad horse; for indeed she longed to scatter all the timbers, or to burn them with consuming fire; and therefore from the pine, as it blazed, taking a brand from the hearth, she rushed on in fury; and in her other hand she bore a two-edged axe; and she made for the baleful horse, that the Trojans might behold the groaning ambush openly; but they swiftly snatched from her hands and cast far off the deadly fire and the iron, and heedless made ready the wretched feast; for the last night was coming upon them. And the Argives within rejoiced, hearing the din of the feasters through Ilium, who heeded not Cassandra, whom they marvelled at, how she was truly knowing the mind and the cunning of the Achaeans. And she, like a leopard in the mountains, vexed, which from the courtyard the dogs and the toiling herdsmen drive swiftly, and she, with savage heart, turning back, retreats, though sore beset; so she rushed from the broad horse, with sore-tried heart, over the coming slaughter of the Trojans; for a very great woe she awaited.