restored to its rightful place. Hence the Greeks had returned home in order
to seek fresh instructions from an oracle. But before leaving, Calchas the
seer had advised their building this gigantic wooden horse as a tribute to
the offended goddess, hoping thereby to appease her just anger. He further
explained that it had been constructed of such colossal proportions in
order to prevent its being brought into the city, so that the favour of
Pallas-Athene might not be transferred to the Trojans.

Hardly had the crafty Sinon ceased speaking when the Trojans, with one
accord, urged that the wooden horse should be brought into their city
without delay. The gates being too low to admit its entrance, a breach was
made in the walls, and the horse was conveyed in triumph into the very
heart of Troy; whereupon the Trojans, overjoyed at what they deemed the
successful issue of the campaign, abandoned themselves to feasting and
rioting.

Amidst the universal rejoicing the unhappy Cassandra, foreseeing the result
of the admission of the wooden horse into the city, was seen rushing
through the streets with wild gestures and dishevelled hair, warning her
people against the dangers which awaited them. But her eloquent words fell
on deaf ears; for it was ever the fate of the unfortunate prophetess that
her predictions should find no credence.

When, after the day's excitement, the Trojans had retired to rest, and all
was hushed and silent, Sinon, in the dead of night, released the heroes
from their voluntary imprisonment. The signal was then given to the Greek
fleet lying off Tenedos, and the whole army in unbroken silence once more
landed on the Trojan coast. {304}

To enter the city was now an easy matter, and a fearful slaughter ensued.
Aroused from their slumbers, the Trojans, under the command of their
bravest leaders, made a gallant defence, but were easily overcome. All
their most valiant heroes fell in the fight, and soon the whole city was
wrapt in flames.

Priam fell by the hand of Neoptolemus, who killed him as he lay prostrate
before the altar of Zeus, praying for divine assistance in this awful hour
of peril. The unfortunate Andromache with her young son Astyanax had taken
refuge on the summit of a tower, where she was discovered by the victors,
who, fearing lest the son of Hector might one day rise against them to
avenge the death of his father, tore him from her arms and hurled him over
the battlements.

AEneas alon