So much for Troy. There was an urn of hope but it was empty. Look, smoke still floats above that city, you can see it. Storms of ruin there. The ashes stink with wealth. For this victory we must pay the gods everlasting gratitude. We threw a noose around Troy’s arrogance and—for a woman’s sake— ground the city to powder. We are the wild beast of Argos, descended from horses, sheathed in shields, that overleapt the towers of Troy, a rawflesheating lion to lap the blood of kings!
