At his command they raised this horse, this effigy, all to atone for the violated image of Pallas, her wounded pride, her power—and expiate the outrage they had done. But he made them do the work on a grand scale, a tremendous mass of interlocking timbers towering 240 toward the sky, so the horse could not be trundled through your gates or hauled inside your walls or guard your people if they revered it well in the old, ancient way. For if your hands should violate this great offering to Minerva, a total disaster—if only god would turn it against the seer himself!—will wheel down on Priam’s
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