The Aeneid - Virgil (13 ebook reader .TXT) š
- Author: Virgil
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With noise say nothing, and in parts divide.
Laocoon, followād by a numārous crowd,
Ran from the fort, and cried, from far, aloud:
āO wretched countrymen! what fury reigns?
What more than madness has possessād your brains?
Think you the Grecians from your coasts are gone?
And are Ulyssesā arts no better known?
This hollow fabric either must inclose,
Within its blind recess, our secret foes;
Or ātis an engine raisād above the town,
Tā oāerlook the walls, and then to batter down.
Somewhat is sure designād, by fraud or force:
Trust not their presents, nor admit the horse.ā
Thus having said, against the steed he threw
His forceful spear, which, hissing as it flew,
Piercād throā the yielding planks of jointed wood,
And trembling in the hollow belly stood.
The sides, transpiercād, return a rattling sound,
And groans of Greeks inclosād come issuing throā the wound
And, had not Heavān the fall of Troy designād,
Or had not men been fated to be blind,
Enough was said and done tāinspire a better mind.
Then had our lances piercād the treachārous wood,
And Ilian towārs and Priamās empire stood.
Meantime, with shouts, the Trojan shepherds bring
A captive Greek, in bands, before the king;
Taken to take; who made himself their prey,
Tā impose on their belief, and Troy betray;
Fixād on his aim, and obstinately bent
To die undaunted, or to circumvent.
About the captive, tides of Trojans flow;
All press to see, and some insult the foe.
Now hear how well the Greeks their wiles disguisād;
Behold a nation in a man comprisād.
Trembling the miscreant stood, unarmād and bound;
He starād, and rollād his haggard eyes around,
Then said: āAlas! what earth remains, what sea
Is open to receive unhappy me?
What fate a wretched fugitive attends,
Scornād by my foes, abandonād by my friends?ā
He said, and sighād, and cast a rueful eye:
Our pity kindles, and our passions die.
We cheer the youth to make his own defence,
And freely tell us what he was, and whence:
What news he could impart, we long to know,
And what to credit from a captive foe.
āHis fear at length dismissād, he said: āWhateāer
My fate ordains, my words shall be sincere:
I neither can nor dare my birth disclaim;
Greece is my country, Sinon is my name.
Thoā plungād by Fortuneās powār in misery,
āTis not in Fortuneās powār to make me lie.
If any chance has hither brought the name
Of Palamedes, not unknown to fame,
Who sufferād from the malice of the times,
Accusād and sentencād for pretended crimes,
Because these fatal wars he would prevent;
Whose death the wretched Greeks too late lamentā ā
Me, then a boy, my father, poor and bare
Of other means, committed to his care,
His kinsman and companion in the war.
While Fortune favourād, while his arms support
The cause, and rulād the counsels, of the court,
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 peopleās hearts,
And forgād a treason in my patronās name
(I speak of things too far divulgād by fame),
My kinsman fell. Then I, without support,
In private mournād his loss, and left the court.
Mad as I was, I could not bear his fate
With silent grief, but loudly blamād the state,
And cursād the direful author of my woes.
āTwas told again; and hence my ruin rose.
I threatenād, if indulgent Heavān once more
Would land me safely on my native shore,
His death with double vengeance to restore.
This movād the murdererās hate; and soon ensued
Thā effects of malice from a man so proud.
Ambiguous rumours throā the camp he spread,
And sought, by treason, my devoted head;
New crimes invented; left unturnād no stone,
To make my guilt appear, and hide his own;
Till Calchas was by force and threatāning wroughtā ā
But whyā āwhy dwell I on that anxious thought?
If on my nation just revenge you seek,
And ātis tā appear a foe, tā 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.ā
This fair unfinishād tale, these broken starts,
Raisād expectations in our longing hearts:
Unknowing as we were in Grecian arts.
His former trembling once again renewād,
With acted fear, the villain thus pursued:
āāāLong had the Grecians (tirād with fruitless care,
And wearied with an unsuccessful war)
Resolvād 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 changād their minds.
Portents and prodigies their souls amazād;
But most, when this stupendous pile was raisād:
Then flaming meteors, hung in air, were seen,
And thunders rattled throā a sky serene.
Dismayād, and fearful of some dire event,
Eurypylus tā enquire their fate was sent.
He from the gods this dreadful answer brought:
āO Grecians, when the Trojan shores you sought,
Your passage with a virginās blood was bought:
So must your safe return be bought again,
And Grecian blood once more atone the main.ā
The spreading rumour round the people ran;
All fearād, and each believād himself the man.
Ulysses took thā advantage of their fright;
Callād Calchas, and producād in open sight:
Then bade him name the wretch, ordainād by fate
The public victim, to redeem the state.
Already some presagād the dire event,
And saw what sacrifice Ulysses meant.
For twice five days the good old seer withstood
Thā intended treason, and was dumb to blood,
Till, tirād, with endless clamours and pursuit
Of Ithacus, he stood no longer mute;
But, as it was agreed, pronouncād that I
Was destinād by the wrathful gods to die.
All praisād the sentence, pleasād the storm should fall
On one alone, whose fury threatenād all.
The dismal day was come; the priests prepare
Their leavenād cakes, and fillets for my hair.
I followād natureās 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 sailād 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 injurād wretch avert.ā
āFalse tears true pity move; the king commands
To loose his fetters, and unbind his hands:
Then adds these friendly words:
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