I see, and no false image cheats my sight,
I see it plainly, there, within the hall,875
A royal feast is spread, and thronged with guests,
Like that last fatal feast of ours at Troy.
The couches gleam with Trojan tapestries;
Their wine they quaff from rare old cups of gold
That once cheered great Assaracus; and see,
The king himself, in 'broidered vestment clad,
Sits high in triumph at the table's head,880
With Priam's noble spoils upon his breast.