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the horse, ye Teucrians. Whatso'er
| VIII . | "So saying, his mighty spear, with all his force, Full at the flank against the ribs he drave, And pierced the bellying framework of the horse. Quivering, it stood; the hollow chambers gave A groan, that echoed from the womb's dark cave, Then, but for folly or Fate's adverse power, His word had made us with our trusty glaive Lay bare the Argive ambush, and this hour | 64 | |
| Should Ilion stand, and thou, O Priam's lofty tower! | |||
| IX . | "Lo, now to Priam, with exulting cries, The Dardan shepherds drag a youth unknown, With hands fast pinioned, and in captive guise. Caught on the way, by cunning of his own, This end to compass, and betray the town. Prepared for either venture, void of fear, The crafty purpose of his mind to crown, Or meet sure death. Around, from far and near, | 73 | |
| The Trojans throng, and vie the captive youth to jeer. | |||
| X . | "Mark now the Danaans' cunning; from one wrong Learn all. As, scared the Phrygian ranks to see, Confused, unarmed, amid the gazing throng, He stood, 'Alas! what spot on earth or sea Is left,' he cried, 'to shield a wretch like me, Whom Dardans seek in punishment to kill, And Greeks disown?'—Touched by his tearful plea, We asked his race, what tidings, good or ill, | 82 | |
| He brings, for hope, perchance, may cheer a captive still. | |||
| XI . | "Then he, at length his show of fear laid by, 'Great King, all truly will I own, whate'er The issue, nor my Argive race deny. This first; if fortune, spiteful and unfair, Hath made poor Sinon wretched, fortune ne'er Shall make me false or faithless;—if the name Of Palamedes thou hast chanced to hear, Old Belus' progeny, if ever came | 91 | |
| To thee or thine in talk the rumour of his fame, | |||
| XII . | "'Whom, pure of guilt, on charges false and feigned, Wroth that his sentence should the war prevent, By perjured witnesses the Greeks arraigned, And doomed to die, but now his death lament, His kinsman, by a needy father sent, With him in boyhood to the war I came, And while in plenitude of power he went, And high in princely counsels waxed his fame, | 100 | |
| I too could boast of credit and a noble name. | |||
| XIII . | "'But when, through sly Ulysses' envious hate, He left the light—alas! the tale ye know— Stricken, I mused indignant on his fate, And dragged my days in solitude and woe, Nor in my madness kept my purpose low, But vowed, if e'er should happier chance invite, And bring me home a conqueror, even so My comrade's death with vengeance to requite. | 109 | |
| My words aroused his wrath; thence evil's earliest blight; | |||
| XIV . | "'Thenceforth Ulysses sought with slanderous tongue To daunt me, scattering in the people's ear Dark hints, and looked for partners of his wrong: Nor rested, till with Calchas' aid, the seer— But why the thankless story should ye hear? Why stay your hand? If Grecians in your sight Are all alike, ye know enough; take here Your vengeance. Dearly will my death delight | 118 | |
| Ulysses, well the deed will Atreus' sons requite.' | |||
| XV . | "Then, all unknowing of Pelasgian art And crimes so huge, the story we demand, And falteringly the traitor plays his part. 'Oft, wearied by the war, the Danaans planned To leave—and oh! had they but left—the land. As oft, to daunt them, in the act to fly, Storms lashed the deep, and Southern gales withstand, And louder still, when towered the horse on high | 127 | |
| With maple timbers, pealed the thunder through the sky. | |||
| XVI . | "'In doubt, we bade Eurypylus explore Apollo's oracle, and back he brought The dismal news: With blood, a maiden's gore, Ye stilled the winds, when Trojan shores ye sought. With blood again must your return be bought; An Argive victim doth the God demand. Full fast the rumour 'mong the people wrought; Cold horror chills us, and aghast we stand; | 136 | |
| Whom doth Apollo claim, whose death the Fates demand? | |||
| XVII . | "'Then straight Ulysses, 'mid tumultuous cries, Drags Calchas forth, and bids the seer unfold The dark and doubtful meaning of the skies. Many e'en then the schemer's crime foretold, And, silent, saw my destiny unrolled. Ten days the seer, as shrinking to reply Or name a victim, did the doom withhold; Then, forced by false Ulysses' clamorous cry, | 145 | |
| Spake the concerted word, and sentenced me to die. | |||
| XVIII . | "'All praised the sentence, pleased that one alone Should suffer, glad that one poor wretch should bear The doom that each had dreaded for his own. The fatal day was come; the priests prepare The salted meal, the fillets for my hair. I fled, 'tis true, and saved my life by flight, Bursting my bonds in frenzy of despair, And hidden in a marish lay that night, | 154 | |
| Waiting till they should sail, if sail, perchance, they might. | |||
| XIX . |
"'No hope have I my ancient fatherland, Or darling boys, or long-lost sire to see, Whom now perchance,
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