Ambiguous rumours through the camp he spread,
And sought, by treason, my devoted head;
New crimes invented; left unturn'd no stone
To make my guilt appear, and hide his own;
Till Calchas was by force and threat'ning wrought-
But why-why dwell I on that anxious thought? 136
If on my nation just revenge you seek,
And 'tis t' appear a foe, t' 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, 141
And set insatiate Ithacus at ease.'.
This fair unfinish'd tale, these broken starts,
Raised expectations in our longing hearts;
Unknowing as we were in Grecian arts.
His former trembling once again renew'd,
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; 150
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: 155
Then flaming meteors, hung in air were seen,
And thunders rattled through a sky serene.
Dismay'd, and fearful of some dire event,
Eurypylus, t' inquire their fate, was sent.
He, from the gods this dreadful answer brought: 160
'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 fear'd, and each believed himself the man.
Ulysses took th' advantage of their fright;
Call'd Calchas, and produced in open sight;
Then bade him name the wretch, ordain'd 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
Th' 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
On one alone, whose fury threaten'd all.
The dismal day was come; the priests prepare
Their leaven'd cakes, and fillets for my hair.
I follow'd 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 sail'd away.
But now what farther 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
Forget the Greeks: be mine as thou wert theirs :
But truly tell, was it for force or guile,
Or some religious end, you raised the pile?"
Thus said the king.-He, full of fraudful arts,
This well-invented tale for truth imparts:
'Ye lamps of heav'n!' he said, and lifted high 205 His hands now free,-'thou venerable sky! Inviolable pow'rs, adored with dread!
Ye fatal fillets that once bound this head!
Ye sacred altars from whose flames I fled!
Be all of you adjured; and grant I may,
Without a crime, th' 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 th' 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 ebb'd much faster than it flow'd before:
Their courage languish'd as their hopes decay'd
And Pallas, now averse, refused her aid.
Nor did the goddess doubtfully declare
Her alter'd mind, and alienated care.
When first her fatal image touch'd the ground, 230 She sternly cast her glaring eyes around,
That sparkled as they roll'd, and seem'd to threat:
Her heav'nly limbs distill'd a briny sweat.
Thrice from the ground she leap'd, was seen to wield
Her brandish'd lance, and shake her horrid shield.
Then Calchas bade our host for flight prepare, 236
And hope no conquest from the tedious war,
Till first they sail'd for Greece; with pray'rs be-
sought
Her injured pow'r, and better omens brought.
And now their navy ploughs the wat'ry 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 stol'n statue and her tow'r betray'd,
Warn'd by the seer, to her offended name
We raised and dedicate this wond'rous 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 gain'd 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, rank'd abreast, the seas divide, 270
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 fill'd: Their nimble tongues they brandish'd as they came, And lick'd their hissing jaws, that sputter'd flame.
We fled amazed; their destined way they take, 280 And to Laocoon and his children make:
And first around the tender boys they wind,
Then with their sharpen'd 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 roll'd;
And twice about his gasping throat they fold.
The priest thus doubly choked-their crests divide,
And tow'ring 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 altar flies,
And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies.
Their tasks perform'd, the serpents quit their prey,
And to the tow'r of Pallas make their way:
Couch'd at her feet, they lie protected there,
By her large buckler and protended spear.
Amazement seizes all: the gen'ral cry
Proclaims Laocoon justly doom'd to die,
Whose hand the will of Pallas had withstood,
And dared to violate the sacred wood.
All vote t' admit the steed, that vows be paid,
And incense offer'd to th' 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 th' unwieldy beast.
Each on his fellow for assistance calls:
At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls,
Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets crown'd,
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. 315
O sacred city, built by hands divine!
O valiant heroes of the Trojan line!
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