The disagreement within the Trojan community about whether or not to drag the horse within the city's walls is an effect of a disordered world in which the Trojans live. Virgil characterizes the discord within the society as "contrary notions" that "pulled the crowd apart." Both the gods and the humans are to blame for this mess that the Trojans — "blind miserable people" — find themselves in: "If the gods's will had not been sinister, / If our own minds had not been crazed, . . . Troy would stand today." Unfortunately, Virgil can only ask these "What if?" questions, for Aeneas now finds himself in search of a new homeland on which to found a new civilization.
The "shadow / Over the city's heart" that the wooden horse casts is both physical and psychological. Physically, the Greek soldiers hiding inside the wooden structure will eventually burn Troy to the ground. Psychologically, the Trojans are "deaf and blind" to the evil they willingly usher into their city, and, as Virgil suggests, their vulnerability is partly due to their living complacently and indulgently: The Greeks make their way unchecked into "the darkened city, buried deep / In sleep and wine." That Aeneas and some fellow Trojan soldiers later disguise themselves in Greek war clothing and are then fired upon by their own men demonstrates just how upside down this world has become.
By the end of Book II, Aeneas has regrouped those of his people who survived the Greek onslaught of Troy. Using a literary device that symbolizes a better future ahead, Virgil writes that a morning star rising over Mount Ida's ridges appears to Aeneas's ragged followers. The Trojan warrior recounts to Dido how he determinedly set forth toward Mount Ida to meet that future: "So I resigned myself, picked up my father, / And turned my face toward the mountain range." His resolute attitude is what we — and, more important, Virgil's contemporary readers — expect in this story of a world-class hero.
