Hath it missed or struck, mine arrow? Am I a poor
Dreamer, that begs and babbles at the door?
Give first thine oath in witness, that I know
Of this great dome the sins wrought long ago.
Elder.
And how should oath of mine, though bravely sworn,
Appease thee? Yet I marvel that one born
Far over seas, of alien speech, should fall
So apt, as though she had lived here and seen all.
Cassandra.
The Seer Apollo made me too to see.
Elder (in a low voice).
Was the God's heart pierced with desire for thee?
Cassandra.
Time was, I held it shame hereof to speak.
Elder.
Ah, shame is for the mighty, not the weak.
Cassandra.
We wrestled, and his breath to me was sweet.
Elder.
Ye came to the getting of children, as is meet?
Cassandra.
I swore to Loxias, and I swore a lie.
Elder.
Already thine the gift of prophecy?