d beguiled her to leave her home. Stealthily they fled away,
and sailed over the sea till they came to the Ilion land; and Helen
dwelt with Paris in the house of his father, Priam.

But Oenone mourned for the love which she had lost, and her tears fell
into the gentle stream of Kebren as she sat on its grassy banks. "Ah
me," she said, "my love hath been stung by Aphrodite. O Paris, Paris!
hast thou forgotten all thy words? Here thine arms were clasped around
me, and here, as thy lips were pressed to mine, thou didst say that
the wide earth had for thee no living thing so fair as Oenone. Sure am
I that Helen hath brought to thee only a false joy; for her heart is
not thine as the heart of a maiden when it is given to her first
love; and sure am I, too, that Helen is not a fairer wife than I, for
my heart is all thine, and the beauty of woman is marred when she
yields herself to a lawless love. But the cloud is gathering round
thee; and I am sprung from the race of the gods, and mine eyes are
opened to behold the things that willingly I would not see. I see the
waters black with ships, and the hosts of the Achaians gathered round
the walls of Ilion. I see the moons roll round, while thy people
strive in vain against the wrath of Here and the might of the son of
Peleus; and far away I see the flames that shall burn the sacred
Ilion. I see thy father smitten down in his own hall, and the spear
that shall drink thy life-blood. Ah me! for the doom that is coming,
and for the pleasant days when we loved and wandered among the dells
of Ida."

So Paris dwelt with Helen in the house of Priam; but men said, "This
is no more the brave Alexandros," for he lay at ease on silken
couches, and his spear and shield hung idle on the wall. For him the
wine sparkled in the goblet while the sun rose high in the heavens,
and he cared only to listen to the voice of Helen, or the minstrels
who sang of the love and the bowers of laughter-loving Aphrodite. And
Helen sat by his side in sullen mood, for she thought of the former
days and of the evil which she had done to the good King Menelaus.
Then there came into her heart a deep hatred for Paris, and she
loathed him for his false words and his fond looks, as he lay quaffing
the wine and taking his rest by day and by night upon the silken
couches.

But throughout the streets of Ilion there was hurrying and shouting of
armed men, and terror and cries of women and children; for the hosts
of the