Milady who meander far afield,
If of their doom you cannot warn your kin,
At least go home, for soldiers there have reeled
To think that Greece has done their princess in,
As with their prince, your brother, whom you mourned
Beside his corpse as to his face alive;
How they'll exult! to see glad, fair, adorned
Cassandra, as against their doom they strive.
Your highness, all have heard you prophesy,
And all have laughed to hear what you foretold;
And most ignore you, Cassie, but not I:
Now tell me, might you deem yourself consoled
If I confide to you that I believe;
Or will you only simper as you grieve?