| 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, the Danaans will demand, Poor souls! for vengeance, and their death decree, To purge my crime, in daring to be free. O by the gods, who know the just and true, By faith unstained—if any such there be— With mercy deign such miseries to view; | 163 | |
| Pity a soul that toils with evils all undue.' | |||
| XX . | "So, moved at length to pity by his tears, We spare him. Priam bids the cords unbind, And thus with friendly words the captive cheers; 'Whoe'er thou art, henceforward blot from mind The Greeks, and leave thy miseries behind. Ours shalt thou be; but mark, and tell me now, What means this monster, for what use designed? Some warlike engine? or religious vow? | 172 | |
| Who planned the steed, and why? Come, quick, the truth avow.' | |||
| XXI . | "Then schooled in cunning and Pelasgian sleights, His hands unshackled to the stars he spread; 'Ye powers inviolate, ever-burning lights! Ye ruthless swords and altars, which I fled, Ye sacred fillets, that adorned my head! Freed is my oath, and I am free to lay Their secrets bare, and wish the Danaans dead. Thou, Troy, preserved, to Sinon faithful stay, | 181 | |
| If true the tale I tell, if large the price I pay. | |||
| XXII . | "'All hopes on Pallas, since the war begun, All trust was stayed. But when Ulysses, fain To weave new crimes, with Tydeus' impious son Dragged the Palladium from her sacred fane, And, on the citadel the warders slain, Upon the virgin's image dared to lay Red hands of slaughter, and her wreaths profane, Hope ebbed and failed them from that fatal day, | 190 | |
| The Danaans' strength grew weak, the goddess turned away. | |||
| XXIII . |
"'No dubious signs Tritonia's wrath declared. Scarce stood her image in the camp, when bright With flickering flames her staring eyeballs glared. Salt sweat ran down her; thrice, a wondrous sight! With shield and quivering spear she sprang upright. "Back o'er the deep," cries Calchas; "nevermore
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