fate; and I do not think he saw through the gloom to the
bright Reality. Watching the Greek host from the walls of Troy,
Helen says:

"Clearly the rest I behold of the dark-eyed sons of Achaia;
Known to me well are the faces of all; their names I remember;
Two, two only remain whom I see not among the commanders,
Castor, fleet in the car, Polydeukes, brave with the cestus--
Own dear brethren of mine,--one parent loved us as infants.
Are they not here in the host, from the shores of loved
Lacedaimon?
Or, though they came with the rest in the ships that bound
through the waters,
Dare they not enter the fight, or stand in the council of heroes,
All for fear of the shame and the taunts my crime has awakened?"

And then:

_Hos phato. Tous d'ede kalechen phusizoos aia,
En Lakedaimoni authi, phile en patridi gaie._

"--So spake she; but they long since under Earth were
reposing
There in their own dear land, their fatherland, Lacedaimon."

[From Dr. Hawtrey's translation, quoted by
Matthew Arnold in _On Translating Homer._]

There it is the sudden antithesis from her gentle womanly inquiry
about her brothers to the sad reality she knows nothing, that