The poets relate, that Apollo, falling in love with Cassandra, was
still deluded and put off by her, yet fed with hopes, till she had got
from him the gift of prophesy; and, having now obtained her end, she
flatly rejected his suit. Apollo, unable to recall his rash gift, yet
enraged to be outwitted by a girl, annexed this penalty to it, that
though she should always prophesy true, she should never be believed;
whence her divinations were always slighted, even when she again and
again predicted the ruin of her country.
EXPLANATION.—This fable seems invented to express the insignificance
of unseasonable advice. For they who are conceited, stubborn, or
intractable, and listen not to the instructions of Apollo, the god of
harmony, so as to learn and observe the modulations and measures of
affairs, the sharps and flats of discourse, the difference between
judicious and vulgar ears, and the proper times of speech and silence,
let them be ever so intelligent, and ever so frank of their advice, or
their counsels ever so good and just, yet all their endeavors, either
of persuasion or force, are of little significance, and rather hasten
the ruin of those they advise. But, at last, when the calamitous event
has made the sufferers feel the effect of their neglect, they too late
reverence their advisers, as deep, foreseeing, and faithful prophets.
Of this, we have a remarkable instance in Cato of Utica, who discovered
afar off, and long foretold, the approaching ruin of his country,
both in the first conspiracy, and as it was prosecuted in the civil
war between Cæsar and Pompey, yet did no good the while, but rather
hurt the commonwealth, and hurried on its destruction, which Cicero
wisely observed in these words: “Cato, indeed, judges excellently, but
prejudices the state; for he speaks as in the commonwealth of Plato,
and not as in the dregs of Romulus.”