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ARGUMENT

Æneas' story.—The Greeks, baffled in battle, built a wooden horse, in which their leaders took ambush. Their fleet sailed to Tenedos. The Trojans, but for Capys and Laocoon, had dragged the horse forthwith as a trophy into Troy (1–72). Sinon, a Greek, brought before Priam, feigns righteous indignation against Greece. The Trojans sympathise and believe his story of wrongs done him by Ulysses (73–126). "When Greek plans of flight had often," says Sinon, "been foiled by storms, oracles foretold that only a human sacrifice could purchase their escape." Chosen for victim, Sinon had fled. He solemnly declares the horse to be an offering to Pallas. "Destroy it, and you are lost. Preserve it in your citadel, your revenge is assured" (127–222). Treachery triumphs. Laocoon's cruel fate is ascribed to his sacrilegious attack upon the horse, which is brought with rejoicing into Troy, despite a last warning, from Cassandra (223–288). While Troy sleeps, the fleet returns, and Sinon releases the Greeks from the horse (289–315). Hector's wraith warns Æneas in a dream to flee with the sacred vessels and images (316–351), and Panthus brings news of Sinon's treachery. The city is in flames. Æneas heads a forlorn hope of rescue (352–441). He and his followers exchange armour with certain Greeks slain in the darkness. The ruse succeeds until they are taken for enemies by their friends. The Greeks rally. The Trojans scatter. At Priam's palace a last stand is made, but Pyrrhus forces the great gates, and the defenders are massacred (442–603). Priam's fate.—The sight of his headless corpse draws Æneas' thoughts to his own father's danger. Hastening homewards he espies Helen, and is pausing to take vengeance and her life, when (604–711) Venus intervening opens his eyes to see the gods aiding the Greeks (712–756). Æneas regains his home. Anchises obstinately refuses to flee, until a halo is seen about the head of Ascanius (757–828), whereupon he accepts the omen and yields. The escape.—In a sudden panic Creusa is lost (829–900). Æneas, at peril of his life, is seeking her throughout the city, when her wraith appears and bids him away. "She is dead in Troytown: in Italy empire awaits him." She vanishes: day dawns: and Æneas, with Anchises and the surviving Trojans, flees to the hills (901–972).

I .		All hushed intent, when from his lofty seat Troy's sire began, "O queen, a tale too true, Too sad for words, thou biddest me repeat; How Ilion perished, and the Danaan crew Her power and all her wailful realm o'erthrew: The woes I saw, thrice piteous to behold, And largely shared. What Myrmidon, or who Of stern Ulysses' warriors can withhold	1
	His tears, to tell such things, as thou would'st have re-told?

II .		"And now already from the heaven's high steep The dewy night wheels down, and sinking slow, The stars are gently wooing us to sleep. But, if thy longing be so great to know The tale of Troy's last agony and woe, The toils we suffered, though my heart doth ache, And grief would fain the memory forego Of scenes so sad, yet, Lady, for thy sake	10
	I will begin,"—and thus the sire of Troy outspake;

III .		"Broken by war, long baffled by the force Of fate, as fortune and their hopes decline, The Danaan leaders build a monstrous horse, Huge as a hill, by Pallas' craft divine, And cleft fir-timbers in the ribs entwine. They feign it vowed for their return, so goes The tale, and deep within the sides of pine And caverns of the womb by stealth enclose	19
	Armed men, a chosen band, drawn as the lots dispose.

IV .		"In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle Renowned and rich, while Priam held command, Now a mere bay and roadstead fraught with guile. Thus far they sailed, and on the lonely strand Lay hid, while fondly to Mycenæ's land We thought the winds had borne them. Troy once more Shakes off her ten years' sorrow. Open stand The gates. With joy to the abandoned shore,	28
	The places bare of foes, the Dorian lines we pour.

V .		"Here camped the brave Dolopians, there was set The tent of fierce Achilles; yonder lay The fleet, and here the rival armies met And mingled. Some with wonder and dismay The maid Minerva's fatal gift survey. Then first Thymætes cries aloud, to go And through the gates the monstrous horse convey And lodge it in the citadel. E'en so	37
	His fraud or Troy's dark fates were working for our woe.

VI .		"But Capys and the rest, of sounder mind, Urge us to tumble in the rolling tide The doubtful gift, for treachery designed, Or burn with fire, or pierce the hollow side, And probe the caverns where the Danaans hide. Thus while they waver and, perplext with doubt, Urge diverse counsels, and in parts divide, Lo, from the citadel, foremost of a rout,	46
	Breathless Laocoon runs, and from afar cries out;

VII .		"'Ah! wretched townsmen! do ye think the foe Gone, or that guileless are their gifts? O blind With madness! Thus Ulysses do ye know? Or Grecians in these timbers lurk confined, Or 'tis some engine of assault, designed To breach the walls, and lay our houses bare, And storm the town. Some mischief lies behind. Trust not the horse, ye Teucrians. Whatso'er	55
	This means, I fear the Greeks, for all the gifts they bear.'

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, 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 Shall Argives hope to quell the Trojan might, Till, homeward borne, new omens ye implore,	199
	And win the blessing back, which o'er the waves ye bore."

XXIV .		"'So now to Argos are they gone, to gain Fresh help from heaven, and hither by surprise Shall come once more, remeasuring the main. Thus Calchas warned them; by his words made wise This steed, for stol'n Palladium, they devise, To soothe the outrag'd goddess. Tall and great, With huge oak-timbers mounting to the skies, They build the monster, lest it pass the gate,	208
	And like Palladium stand, the bulwark of the State.

XXV .		"'"Once had your hands," said Calchas, "dared profane Minerva's gift, dire plagues" (which Heaven forestall Or turn on him) "should Priam's realm sustain; But if by Trojan aid it scaled your wall, Proud Asia then should Pelops' sons enthrall, And children rue the folly of the sire."' His arts gave credence, and forced tears withal Snared us, whom Diomede, nor Achilles dire,	217
	Nor thousand ships subdued, nor ten years' war could tire.

XXVI .		"A greater yet and ghastlier sign remained Our heedless hearts to terrify anew. Laocoon, Neptune's priest, by lot ordained, A stately bull before the altar slew, When lo!—the tale I shudder to pursue— From Tenedos in silence, side by side, Two monstrous serpents, horrible to view, With coils enormous leaning on the tide,	226
	Shoreward, with even stretch, the tranquil sea divide.

XXVII .		"Their breasts erect they rear amid the deep, Their blood-red crests above the surface shine, Their hinder parts along the waters sweep, Trailed in huge coils and many a tortuous twine; Lashed into foam, behind them roars the brine; Now, gliding onward to the beach, ere long They gain the fields, and rolling bloodshot eyne That blaze with fire, the monsters move along,	235
	And lick their hissing jaws, and dart a flickering tongue.

XXVIII .		"Pale at the sight we fly; unswerving, these Glide on and seek Laocoon. First, entwined In stringent folds, his two young sons they seize, With cruel fangs their tortured limbs to grind. Then, as with arms he comes to aid, they bind In giant grasp the father. Twice, behold, Around his waist the horrid volumes wind, Twice round his neck their scaly backs are rolled,	244
	High over all their heads and glittering crests unfold.

XXIX .		"Both hands are labouring the fierce knots to pull; Black gore and slime his sacred wreaths distain. Loud are his moans, as when a wounded bull Shakes from his neck the faltering axe and, fain To fly the cruel altars, roars in pain. But lo! the serpents to Tritonia's seat Glide from their victim, till the shrine they gain, And, coiled beside the goddess, at her feet,	253
	Behind her sheltering shield with gathered orbs retreat.

XXX .		"Fresh wonder seized us, and we shook with fear. All say, that justly had Laocoon died, And paid fit penalty, whose guilty spear Profaned the steed and pierced the sacred side. 'On with the image to its home,' they cried, 'And pray the Goddess to avert our woe'; We breach the walls, and ope the town inside. All set to work, and to the feet below	262
	Fix wheels, and hempen ropes around the neck they throw.

XXXI .		"Mounting the walls, the monster moves along, Teeming with arms. Boys, maidens joy around To touch the ropes, and raise the festive song. Onward it came, smooth-sliding on the ground, And, beetling, o'er the midmost city frowned. O native land! O Ilion, now betrayed! Blest home of deities, in war renowned! Four times beside the very gate 'twas stayed;	271
	Four times within the womb the armour clashed and brayed.

XXXII .		"But heedless, blind with frenzy, one and all Up to the sacred citadel we strain, And there the ill-omened prodigy install. E'en then—alas! to Trojan ears in vain— Cassandra sang, and told in utterance plain The coming doom. We, sunk in careless joy, Poor souls! with festive garlands deck each fane, And through the town in revelry employ	280
	The day decreed our last, the dying hours of Troy!

XXXIII .		"And now the heaven rolled round. From ocean rushed The Night, and wrapt in shadow earth and air And Myrmidonian wiles. In silence hushed, The Trojans through the city here and there, Outstretched in sleep, their weary limbs repair. Meanwhile from neighbouring Tenedos once more, Beneath the tranquil moonbeam's friendly care, With ordered ships, along the deep sea-floor,	289
	Back came the Argive host, and sought the well-known shore.

XXXIV .		"Forth from the royal galley sprang the flame, When Sinon, screened by partial Fate, withdrew The bolts and barriers of the pinewood frame, And from its inmost caverns, bared to view, The fatal horse disgorged the Danaan crew. With joy from out the hollow wood they bound; First, dire Ulysses, with his captains two, Thessander bold and Sthenelus renowned,	298
	Down by a pendent rope come sliding to the ground.

XXXV .		"Then Thoas comes; and Acamas, athirst For blood; and Neoptolemus, the heir Of mighty Peleus; and Machaon first; And Menelaus; and himself is there, Epeus, framer of the fatal snare. Now, stealing forward, on the town they fall, Buried in wine and sleep, the guards o'erbear, And ope the gates; their comrades at the call	307
	Pour in and, joining bands, all muster by the wall.

XXXVI .		"'Twas now the time, when on tired mortals crept First slumber, sweetest that celestials pour. Methought I saw poor Hector, as I slept, All bathed in tears and black with dust and gore, Dragged by the chariot and his swoln feet sore With piercing thongs. Ah me! how sad to view, How changed from him, that Hector, whom of yore Returning with Achilles' spoils we knew,	316
	When on the ships of Greece his Phrygian fires he threw.

XXXVII .		"Foul is his beard, his hair is stiff with gore, And fresh the wounds, those many wounds, remain, Which erst around his native walls he bore. Then, weeping too, I seem in sorrowing strain To hail the hero, with a voice of pain. 'O light of Troy, our refuge! why and how This long delay? Whence comest thou again, Long-looked-for Hector? How with aching brow,	325
	Worn out by toil and death, do we behold thee now!

XXXVIII .		"'But oh! what dire indignity hath marred The calmness of thy features? Tell me, why With ghastly wounds do I behold thee scarred?' To such vain quest he cared not to reply, But, heaving from his breast a deep-drawn sigh, 'Fly, Goddess-born! and get thee from the fire! The foes,' he said, 'are on the ramparts. Fly! All Troy is tumbling from her topmost spire.	334
	No more can Priam's land, nor Priam's self require.

XXXIX .		"'Could Troy be saved by mortal prowess, mine, Yea, mine had saved her. To thy guardian care She doth her Gods and ministries consign. Take them, thy future destinies to share, And seek for them another home elsewhere, That mighty city, which for thee and thine O'er traversed ocean shall the Fates prepare.' He spake, and quickly snatched from Vesta's shrine	343
	The deathless fire and wreaths and effigy divine.

XL .		"Meanwhile a mingled murmur through the street Rolls onward—wails of anguish, shrieks of fear, And though my father's mansion stood secrete, Embowered in foliage, nearer and more near Peals the dire clang of arms, and loud and clear, Borne on fierce echoes that in tumult blend, War-shout and wail come thickening on the ear. I start from sleep, the parapet ascend,	352
	And from the sloping roof with eager ears attend.

XLI .		"Like as a fire, when Southern gusts are rude, Falls on the standing harvest of the plain, Or torrent, hurtling with a mountain flood, Whelms field and oxens' toil and smiling grain, And rolls whole forests headlong to the main, While, weetless of the noise, on neighbouring height, Tranced in mute wonder, stands the listening swain, Then, then I see that Hector's words were right,	361
	And all the Danaan wiles are naked to the light.

XLII .		"And now, Deiphobus, thy halls of pride, Bowed by the flames, come ruining through the air; Next burn Ucalegon's, and far and wide The broad Sigean reddens with the glare. Then come the clamour and the trumpet's blare. Madly I rush to arms; though vain the fight, Yet burns my soul, in fury and despair, To rally a handful and to hold the height:	370
	Sweet seems a warrior's death and danger a delight.

XLIII .		"Lo, Panthus, flying from the Grecian bands, Panthus, the son of Othrys, Phoebus' seer, Bearing the sacred vessels in his hands, And vanquished home-gods, to the door draws near, His grandchild clinging to his side in fear. 'Panthus,' I cry, 'how fares the fight? what tower Still hold we?'—Sighing, he replies ''Tis here, The final end of all the Dardan power,	379
	The last, sad day has come, the inevitable hour.

XLIV .		"'Troy was, and we were Trojans, now, alas! No more, for perished is the Dardan fame. Fierce Jove to Argos biddeth all to pass, And Danaans rule a city wrapt in flame. High in the citadel the monstrous frame Pours forth an armed deluge to the day, And Sinon, puffed with triumph, spreads the flame. Part throng the gates, part block each narrow way;	388
	Such hosts Mycenæ sends, such thousands to the fray.

XLV .		"'Athwart the streets stands ready the array Of steel, and bare is every blade and bright. Scarce the first warders of the gates essay To stand and battle in the blinding night.' So spake the son of Othrys, and forthright, My spirit stirred with impulse from on high, I rush to arms amid the flames and fight, Where yells the war-fiend and the warrior's cry,	397
	Mixt with the din of strife, mounts upward to the sky.

XLVI .		"Here warlike Epytus, renowned in fight, And valiant Rhipeus gather to our side, And Hypanis and Dymas, matched in might, Join with us, by the glimmering moon descried. Here Mygdon's son, Coroebus, we espied, Who came to Troy—Cassandra's love to gain, And now his troop with Priam's hosts allied; Poor youth and heedless! whom in frenzied strain	406
	His promised bride had warned, but warned, alas! in vain.

XLVII .		"So when the bold and compact band I see, 'Brave hearts,' I cry, 'but brave, alas! in vain; If firm your purpose holds to follow me Who dare the worst, our present plight is plain. Troy's guardian gods have left her; altar, fane, All is deserted, every temple bare. The town ye aid is burning. Forward, then, To die and mingle in the tumult's blare.	415
	Sole hope to vanquished men of safety is despair.'

XLVIII .		"Then fury spurred their courage, and behold, As ravening wolves, when darkness hides the day, Stung with mad fire of famine uncontrolled, Prowl from their dens, and leave the whelps to stay, With jaws athirst and gaping for the prey. So to sure death, amid the darkness there, Where swords, and spears, and foemen bar the way, Into the centre of the town we fare.	424
	Night with her shadowy cone broods o'er the vaulted air.

XLIX .		"Oh, who hath tears to match our grief withal? What tongue that night of havoc can make known An ancient city totters to her fall, Time-honoured empress and of old renown; And senseless corpses, through the city strown, Choke house and temple. Nor hath vengeance found None save the Trojans; there the victors groan, And valour fires the vanquished. All around	433
	Wailings, and wild affright and shapes of death abound.

L .		"First of the Greeks approaches, with a crowd, Androgeus; friends he deems us unaware, And thus, with friendly summons, cries aloud: 'Haste, comrades, forward; from the fleet ye fare With lagging steps but now, while yonder glare Troy's towers, and others sack and share the spoils?' Then straight—for doubtful was our answer there— He knew him taken in the foemen's toils;	442
	Shuddering, he checks his voice, and back his foot recoils.

LI .		"As one who, in a tangled brake apart, On some lithe snake, unheeded in the briar, Hath trodden heavily, and with backward start Flies, trembling at the head uplift in ire And blue neck, swoln in many a glittering spire. So slinks Androgeus, shuddering with dismay; We, massed in onset, make the foe retire, And slay them, wildered, weetless of the way.	451
	Fortune, with favouring smile, assists our first essay.