the attire 330
Treasured within thy chamber, first select
The amplest robe, most exquisitely wrought,
And which thou prizest most--then spread the gift
On Athenaean Pallas' lap divine.
Twelve heifers also of the year, untouch'd 335
With puncture of the goad, promise to slay
In sacrifice, if she will pity Troy,
Our wives and little ones, and will avert
The son of Tydeus from these sacred towers,
That dreadful Chief, terror of all our host. 340
Go then, my mother, seek the hallowed fane
Of the spoil-huntress Deity. I, the while,
Seek Paris, and if Paris yet can hear,
Shall call him forth. But oh that earth would yawn
And swallow him, whom Jove hath made a curse 345
To Troy, to Priam, and to all his house;
Methinks, to see him plunged into the shades
For ever, were a cure for all my woes.
He ceased; the Queen, her palace entering, charged
Her maidens; they, incontinent, throughout 350
All Troy convened the matrons, as she bade.
Meantime into her wardrobe incense-fumed,
Herself descended; there her treasures lay,
Works of Sidonian women,[21] whom her son
The godlike Paris, when he cross'd the seas 355
With Jove-begotten Helen, brought to Troy.
The most magnificent, and varied most
With colors radiant, from the rest she chose
For Pallas; vivid as a star it shone,
And lowest lay of all. Then forth she went, 360
The Trojan matrons all following her steps.
But when the long procession reach'd the fane
Of Pallas in the heights of Troy, to them
The fair Theano ope'd the portals wide,
Daughter of Cisseus, brave Antenor's spouse, 365
And by appointment public, at that time,
Priestess of Pallas. All with lifted hands[22]
In presence of Minerva wept aloud.
Beauteous Theano on the Goddess' lap
Then spread the robe, and to the daughter fair 370
Of Jove omnipotent her suit address'd.
Goddess[23] of Goddesses, our city's shield,
Adored Minerva, hear! oh! break the lance
Of Diomede, and give himself to fall
Prone in the dust before the Scaean gate. 375
So will we offer to thee at thy shrine,
This day twelve heifers of the year, untouch'd
By yoke or goad, if thou wilt pity show
To Troy, and save our children and our wives.
Such praye