Once again the old man fell upon his neck and kissed him; and Hecuba, his mother, held him in her arms, and wept tears of joy over the child she had given up for dead. His brothers and his sisters crowded round, and all the people; and some raised him on their shoulders, and with songs and shouts of joy they took him to the palace of Priam. There they clothed him in rich raiment, as befitted a king's son, and held a great feast in his honour; for every man was glad that one so fair and noble had been spared to bring honour to the land of Troy. Cassandra alone sat silent amidst the revelry, for her heart was cut in two. When she looked upon her brother's fair young face, she was glad that he had lived; yet ever before her eyes there floated the vision she had seen the night before he was born--a vision of war, unmanliness and death--and she knew that vision would come true. When she thought of it she shuddered and almost wished him dead, and in her heart she cursed that fatal gift of prophecy which brought her nought but grief. Verily in her case knowledge was not a thing of joy. When the guests had departed, the old king took his son aside. "I have set a place apart for thee, my son," he said, "and from this day forth thou must live with thy kinsfolk in the palace." "I will live with thee right gladly, my father," he answered, "but my days I will spend upon the mountains as of yore, and keep watch over thy flocks and herds. For I love the beasts and the mountain air, and methinks in a city I should pine for want of my old free life." The form of OEnone rose up before his eyes; but that he hid from his father. "Thou mayest live as best pleases thee, my son," said Priam, "and I will give thee many goodly flocks and herds of cattle for thine own." So it came to pass that, though Paris was a prince and son of the King of Troy, there was small change in his manner of life, save that now he lived in his father's palace instead of the herdsman's hut. For in those days it was thought no shame even for a prince to be a shepherd, and keep watch over his own flocks and herds. It was soon after this that the strife arose among the goddesses about the apple that Eris had cast in their midst at the marriage-feast of Peleus. And Zeus sent down Iris, the swift-footed messenger of Heaven, to tell Paris of the charge that was laid on him, and to bear him the golden apple. Down the path of the rainbow she sped, the road whereby she always went to and fro betwixt gods and men. Her shining robes flew out behind her, and the wings upon her feet and shoulders glanced like lightning in the sky. At early dawn, while the dew lay bright upon the ground, she came and stood in the path as Paris was driving his flocks to pasture. In one hand she held the staff that Zeus had given her, to show she was the messenger of Heaven, and in the other she held the golden apple.