Menelaus mid the inner chambers found At last his wife, there cowering from the wrath Of her bold-hearted lord. He glared on her, Hungering to slay her in his jealous rage. But winsome Aphrodite curbed him, struck Out of his hand the sword, his onrush reined, Jealousy's dark cloud swept she away, and stirred Love's deep sweet well-springs in his heart and eyes. Swept o'er him strange amazement: powerless all Was he to lift the sword against her neck, Seeing her splendour of beauty. Like a stock Of dead wood in a mountain forest, which No swiftly-rushing blasts of north-winds shake, Nor fury of south-winds ever, so he stood, So dazed abode long time. All his great strength Was broken, as he looked upon his wife. And suddenly had he forgotten all Yea, all her sins against her spousal-troth; For Aphrodite made all fade away, She who subdueth all immortal hearts And mortal. Yet even so he lifted up From earth his sword, and made as he would rush Upon his wife but other was his intent, Even as he sprang: he did but feign, to cheat Achaean eyes. Then did his brother stay His fury, and spake with pacifying words, Fearing lest all they had toiled for should be lost: "Forbear wrath, Menelaus, now: 'twere shame To slay thy wedded wife, for whose sake we Have suffered much affliction, while we sought Vengeance on Priam. Not, as thou dost deem, Was Helen's the sin, but his who set at naught The Guest-lord, and thine hospitable board; So with death-pangs hath God requited him." Then hearkened Menelaus to his rede. But the Gods, palled in dark clouds, mourned for Troy, A ruined glory save fair-tressed Tritonis And Hera: their hearts triumphed, when they saw The burg of god-descended Priam destroyed. Yet not the wise heart Trito-born herself Was wholly tearless; for within her fane Outraged Cassandra was of Oileus son Lust-maddened. But grim vengeance upon him Ere long the Goddess wreaked, repaying insult With mortal sufferance. Yea, she would not look Upon the infamy, but clad herself With shame and wrath as with a cloak: she turned Her stern eyes to the temple-roof, and groaned The holy image, and the hallowed floor Quaked mightily. Yet did he not forbear His mad sin, for his soul was lust-distraught. Here, there, on all sides crumbled flaming homes In ruin down: scorched dust with smoke was blent: Trembled the streets to the awful thunderous crash. Here burned Aeneas' palace, yonder flamed Antimachus' halls: one furnace was the height Of fair-built Pergamus; flames were roaring round Apollo's temple, round Athena's fane, And round the Hearth-lord's altar: flames licked up Fair chambers of the sons' sons of a king; And all the city sank down into hell.