Cassandra

Cassandra
Cry, Trojans, cry! Lend me ten thousand eyes,
And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
Hector
Peace, sister, peace!
Cassandra
Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders,
Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
Add to my clamors. Let us pay betimes
A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
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Hector
Begone, I say. The gods have heard me swear.
Cassandra
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows.
They are polluted off’rings more abhorred
Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
Andromache, to Hector
O, be persuaded! Do not count it holy
To hurt by being just.
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