He spake, and, disappearing, left the king Musing on things that never were to be; For on that very day he thought to take The city of Priam. Fool! who little knew What Jupiter designed should come to pass, And little thought by his own act to bring Great woe and grief on Greeks and Trojans both In hard-fought battles. From his sleep he woke, The heavenly voice still sounding in his ears, And sat upright, and put his tunic on, Soft, fair, and new, and over that he cast His ample cloak, and round his shapely feet Laced the becoming sandals. Next, he hung Upon his shoulders and his side the sword With silver studs, and took into his hand The ancestral sceptre, old, but undecayed, And with it turned his footsteps toward the fleet Of the Achaian warriors brazen-mailed.