I made some figure there; nor was my name
Obscure, nor I without my share of fame.
But when Ulysses, with fallacious arts,
Had made impression in the people's hearts,
And forged a treason in my patron's name
(I speak of things too far divulged by fame),
My kinsman fell: then I, without support,
In private mourned his loss, and left the court.
Mad as I was, I could not bear his fate
With silent grief, but loudly blamed the state,
And cursed the direful author of my woes :
'Twas told again, and hence my ruin rose.
I threatened, if indulgent Heaven once more
Would land me safely on my native shore,
His death with double vengeance to restore.
This moved the murderer's hate, and soon ensued
The effects of malice from a man so proud.
Ambiguous rumours through the camp he spread,
And sought by treason my devoted head;
New crimes invented, left unturned no stone,
To make my guilt appear, and hide his own:
Till Calchas was by force and threatening wrought.
But why-why dwell I on that anxious thought?
If on my nation just revenge you seek—
And 'tis to appear a foe to appear a Greek—
Already you my name and country know,

Assuage your thirst of blood, and strike the blow:
My death will both the kingly brothers please,
And set insatiate Ithacus at ease.'

This fair unfinished tale, these broken starts,
Raised expectations in our longing hearts,
Unknowing as we were in Grecian arts.
His former trembling once again renewed,
With acted fear, the villain thus pursued:

"Long had the Grecians (tired with fruitless care,

And wearied with an unsuccessful war),

Resolved to raise the siege, and leave the town;

And had the gods permitted, they had gone.

But oft the wintry seas and southern winds

Withstood their passage home, and changed their minds.
Portents and prodigies their souls amazed ;

But most when this stupendous pile was raised.
Then flaming meteors, hung in air, were seen,
And thunders rattled through a sky serene.
Dismayed, and fearful of some dire event,
Eurypyus to enquire their fate was sent ;

He from the gods this dreadful answer brought :
O Grecians, when the Trojan shores you sought,
Your passage with a virgin's blood was bought ;
So must your safe return be bought again,
And Grecian blood once more atone the main.
The spreading rumour round the people ran;
All feared and each believed himself the man.
Ulysses took the advantage of their fright,
Called Calchas, and produced in open sight;
Then bade him name the wretch ordained by fate
The public victim, to redeem the state.
Already some presaged the dire event,
And saw what sacrifice Ulysses meant.

For twice five days the good old seer withstood
The intended treason, and was dumb to blood;
Till tired with endless clamours, and pursuit

Of Ithacus, he stood no longer mute;

But as it was agreed, pronounced that I
Was destined by the wrathful gods to die.

All praised the sentence, pleased the storm should fall
On one alone, whose fury threatened all.

The dismal day was come, the priests prepare
Their leavened cakes, and fillets for my hair.
I followed Nature's laws, and must avow
I broke my bonds, and fled the fatal blow.
Hid in a weedy lake all night I lay,
Secure of safety when they sailed away.
But now what further hopes for me remain
To see my friends or native soil again?
My tender infants, or my careful sire,
Whom they, returning, will to death require?
Will perpetrate on them their first design,
And take the forfeit of their heads for mine?
Which, O if pity mortal minds can move,
If there be faith below or gods above,
If innocence and truth can claim desert,
Ye Trojans, from an injured wretch avert.'
False tears true pity move; the king commands

To loose his fetters and unbind his hands;

Then adds these friendly words: Dismiss thy fears,
Forget the Greeks; be mine as thou wert theirs.
But truly tell, was it for force or guile,

Or some religious end, you raised this pile?"
Thus said the king. He, full of fraudful arts,
This well-invented tale for truth imparts.
'Ye lamps of heaven!' he said, and lifted high

His hands now free,' thou venerable sky,
Inviolable powers, adored with dread,
Ye fatal fillets, that once bound this head;
Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I fled-
Be all of you abjured; and grant I may,
Without a crime, the ungrateful Greeks betray ;
Reveal the secrets of the guilty state,
And justly punish whom I justly hate.

But you, O King, preserve the faith you gave,
If I, to save myself, your empire save.

The Grecian hopes, and all the attempts they made,

Were only founded on Minerva's aid.
But from the time when impious Diomede,
And false Ulysses, that inventive head,
Her fatal image from the temple drew,
The sleeping guardians of the castle slew,
Her virgin statue with their bloody hands
Polluted and profaned her holy bands:

From thence the tide of fortune left their shore,
And ebbed much faster than it flowed before ;
Their courage languished as their hopes decayed,
And Pallas, now averse, refused her aid.
Nor did the goddess doubtfully declare
Her altered mind and alienated care.

When first her fatal image touched the ground,
She sternly cast her glaring eyes around,

That sparkled as they rolled, and seemed to threat;
Her heavenly limbs distilled a briny sweat.

Thrice from the ground she leaped, was seen to wield
Her brandished lance, and shake her horrid shield.
Then Calchas bade our host for flight prepare,
And hope no conquest from the tedious war;

Till first they sailed for Greece, with prayers besought
Her injured power, and better omens brought.
And now their navy ploughs the watery main,
Yet, soon expect it on your shores again,
With Pallas pleased, as Calchas did ordain.
But first, to reconcile the blue-eyed maid,
For her stolen statue, and her tower betrayed,
Warned by the seer, to her offended name
We raised and dedicate this wondrous frame;
So lofty, lest through your forbidden gates
It pass, and intercept our better fates.
For, once admitted there, our hopes are lost;
And Troy may then a new palladium boast.
For so religion and the gods ordain,

That if you violate with hands profane
Minerva's gift, your town in flames shall burn
(Which omen, O ye gods, on Græcia turn);
But if it climb, with your assisting hands,
The Trojan walls, and in the city stands,
Then Troy shall Argos and Mycena burn,
And the reverse of fate on us return.'

"With such deceits he gained their easy hearts,
Too prone to credit his perfidious arts.
What Diomede, nor Thetis' greater, son,

A thousand ships, nor ten years' siege had done,
False tears and fawning words the city won.
A greater omen, and of worse portent,
Did our unwary minds with fear torment,
Concurring to produce the dire event.
Laocoon, Neptune's priest by lot that year,
With solemn pomp then sacrificed a steer,
When, dreadful to behold, from sea we spied
Two serpents, ranked abreast, the seas divide,
And smoothly sweep along the swelling tide.
Their flaming crests above the waves they show,
Their bellies seem to burn the seas below;
Their speckled tails advance to steer their course,
And on the sounding shore the flying billows force.
And now the strand, and now the plain they held,
Their ardent eyes with bloody streaks were filled;
Their nimble tongues they brandished as they came,
And licked their hissing jaws, that spluttered flame.
We fled amazed. Their destined way they take,
And to Laocoon and his children make.

And first around the tender boys they wind,

Then with their sharpened fangs their limbs and bodies grind.

The wretched father, running to their aid

With pious haste, but vain, they next invade.

Twice round his waist their winding volumes rolled,
And twice about his gasping throat they fold.

The priest, thus doubly choked, their crests divide,
And towering o'er his head, in triumph ride.
With both his hands he labours at the knots,
His holy fillets the blue venom blots;
His roaring fills the flitting air around.
Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound,
He breaks his bands, the fatal halter flies,

And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies.
Their tasks performed, the serpents quit their prey,

And to the tower of Pallas make their way.
Couched at her feet, they lie protected there
By her large buckler and protended spear.
Amazement seizes all. The general cry
Proclaims Laocoon justly doomed to die,
Whose hand the will of Pallas had withstood,
And dared to violate the sacred wood.

All vote to admit the steed, that vows be paid,
And incense offered to the offended maid.
A spacious breach is made, the town lies bare,
Some hoisting levers, some the wheels prepare,
And fasten to the horse's feet; the rest
With cables haul along the unwieldy beast.
Each on his fellow for assistance calls.

At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls,
Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets crowned,
And choirs of virgins sing and dance around.
Thus raised aloft, and then descending down,
It enters o'er our heads and threats the town.
O sacred city, built by hands divine!
O valiant heroes of the Trojan line!

Four times he stuck; as oft the clashing sound
Of arms was heard, and inward groans rebound.
Yet mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate,
We haul along the horse in solemn state,
Then place the dire portent within the tower.
Cassandra cried, and cursed the unhappy hour;
Foretold our fate. But, by the gods' decree,
All heard, and none believed, the prophecy.
With branches we the fanes adorn, and waste
In jollity the day ordained to be the last.
Meantime, the rapid heavens rolled down the light,
And on the shaded ocean rushed the night.
Our men secure, nor guards nor sentries held,
But easy sleep their weary limbs compelled.
The Grecians had embarked their naval powers
From Tenedos, and sought our well-known shores,
Safe under covert of the silent night,

And guided by the imperial galley's light.
When Sinon, favoured by the partial gods,
Unlocked the horse and oped his dark abodes,
Restored to vital air our hidden foes,
Who joyful from their long confinement rose.
Tysander bold, and Sthenelus their guide,
And dire Ulysses down the cable slide;
Then Thoas, Athamas, and Pyrrhus haste,