And kingdom, endless source of grief, the Greeks o’erthrew:
Those sad events which I myself beheld, and in
Whose fabric I was wrought a part. Who, though he be
Of fierce Achilles’ band, or in the train of hard
Ulysses, telling such a tale could hold his tears?
Now night sinks down the steeps of heaven, while setting stars
And constellations summon us to rest. But if
So strong is thy desire to know the story of
Our woe, and hear Troy’s final agonies rehearsed,
Though at the very thought my soul within me shrinks