But why dost lay aside the sacred wool?
Most by the wretched should the gods be feared.
Cassandra: But ills like mine o'erleap the bounds of fear.695
I'll supplicate the heavenly gods no more,
For now am I beyond their power to harm,
And I have drained to dregs the cup of fate.
No country have I left, no sister, sire;
For tombs and altars have my blood consumed.700
Where is that happy throng of brothers now?
Departed all! And only weak old men