SCENE 2

Enter Trojan shepherds, dragging in a man bound with thongs. They approach the king. The bystanders jibe at and mock the captive. The unknown stands as if bewildered and distraught, and at last cries (69-72):

Where now, alas, can I a refuge find On land or sea? What chance of life remains For one who can no longer claim a place Among the Greeks? and now his bloody death The vengeful sons of Dardanus demand.

The Trojans in wonder and with growing pity urge him to explain himself. He at last proceeds, having with an apparent effort regained his self control (77-104):

All things and truly will I tell to thee, O king, whatever comes, nor will I seek To hide that I am Grecian born. This first; For though in woe my fate has plunged me deep It shall not make me false and faithless too. If any chance report has touched your ears With Palamedes’ name, great Belus’ son, Whom, though he was all innocent of guile, Yet still, because his voice was ever raised Against the war, by accusations false The Greeks condemned, and sent to gloomy death; But whom they now with fruitless grief lament: To him my sire, while yet the war was young, By poverty impelled, consigned his son To serve the prince, by double ties endeared Of blood and comradeship While he in power And in the councils of the kings stood high, I, too, by his reflected light, enjoyed Both name and fair renown. But when at last, Through false Ulysses’ murderous hate and guile, (I speak what you do know), his death was wrought; In deep distress, in darkness and in woe I spent my days, and mourned the hapless fate Of my poor friend. And, maddened by my grief, I would not hold my peace, but loudly swore, That if the fates of war should bring me back As victor to my native land of Greece, I should full vengeance take; and by my words Dire hatred ‘gainst my luckless self I roused. Here was the fountain source of all my woes; From now Ulysses, crafty enemy, Began to spread vague hints among the Greeks, Prefer strange charges, and to seek some cause Against me, conscious in his heart of guilt. Nor did he rest, until by Calchas’ aid— But why do I rehearse this senseless tale To heedless ears? Or wherefore should I seek To stay your hands, if ‘tis enough to hear That I am Greek, and in your hostile minds All Greeks are judged alike. Come, glut your hate Upon me. For Ulysses would rejoice To know that I am dead, and Atreus’ sons Would gladly purchase this with great reward.

Here the stranger pauses in seeming despair and resignation to his fate. The Trojans urge him to go on with his story. He resumes (108-144):

Full oft the Greeks, in utter weariness Of that long siege, desired to abandon Troy, And seek their homes again. Oh, that they had! But whensoe’er they addressed them to the sea, Rough wintry blasts and storms affrighted them. And when this horse, of wooden timbers framed, Completed stood, a votive offering, The winds from every quarter of the heavens Howled threateningly. To seek the will of Heaven, The anxious Greeks despatch Eurypylus To Phœbus’ oracle. He straight reports Apollo’s mandate grim and terrible: “Before, O Greeks, ye sailed to Troia’s shores, Ye first had need to appease the angry winds With bloody sacrifice—a maiden’s death E’en so, by blood must your return be sought; Again must Grecian life atonement make.” When this dire oracle among the crowd, From ear to ear, from lip to lip was spread, They stood with horror stunned, and chilling fear Their inmost hearts with dire forebodings filled. They trembling ask for whom the fates prepare, Whom does Apollo seek in punishment? Then comes the Ithacan with clamor loud, The prophet Calchas dragging in our midst, And bids with charge insistent that he tell The will of heaven. And now from many lips The grim forebodings of Ulysses’ guile Assail my ears, while all in silence wait To see the end. Ten days the seer was mute, Hid in his tent, refusing steadily By word of his to doom a man to death. At length, his feigned reluctance at an end, And goaded by Ulysses’ clamors loud, He spoke, and named me as the sacrifice. All gave assent; and while each feared a doom Which might befall himself, they calmly bore When on my wretched head they saw it light. And now the day of horror was at hand. All things were ready for the sacrifice; The salted meal was sprinkled on my head, And round my brows the fatal fillets twined. Then, I confess it, did I break my bonds. I fled from death and in the sedgy reeds Along the muddy margin of a lake All night I lay in hiding, hoping there To lurk until their homeward sails were spread. And now my country dear I ne’er shall see, My darling children and my aged sire Whose face I long to see. But they are doomed To pay the penalty which I escaped, And by their death repair this fault of mine. But by the gods above, divinities Who with impartial eyes behold the truth, If anywhere there still abides with men Unsullied faith, I beg you, pity me Who have endured so dire a weight of woe, A soul that has been foully overborne.

The Trojans are moved to tears by this tale of woe; and Priam bids the chains be stricken from him. He then addresses the prisoner with friendly words.

_Priam_ (148-151):

Whoe’er thou art, away with thoughts of Greeks. Be man of ours. And, as I question thee, Give true reply. What means this monster horse? Who first proposed, and what its purpose here? Is it some votive gift, or does it stand Against our walls as enginery of war?

Sinon stretches his freed hands to the heavens. He speaks excitedly and as one inspired.

_Sinon_ (154-194):

O ye eternal fires, be witness now, Ye heavenly stars, divine, inviolate, Ye cursed knives, and altars which I fled, Ye fillets which as victim doomed I wore: ‘Tis right for me to break all sacred oaths Which bound me to the Greeks; ‘tis right to hate, And blab their secrets to the common air. I’ll not be held by any ties of land Or law. Do thou but keep thy promises, O Troy, and, saved by me, keep plighted faith, If I with truth shall make thee rich returns.

Recovering himself, he goes on more quietly, and with an air of perfect sincerity.

The Greeks’ whole hope and confidence in war Had rested from the first on Pallas’ aid. But from the time when godless Diomede, And that curst Ithacan, expert in crime, Dared desecrate the goddess’ sacred fane, Dared drag her mystic image forth, and kill Her faithful guard, and on her virgin locks Lay bloody, lustful hands unconsecrate: From then their hopes kept ebbing back and back, Their powers were shattered and their goddess’ aid Denied. And she with no uncertain signs Revealed at once her outraged deity. Scarce had the sacred image reached the camp, When glittering flames blazed from the staring eyes, And salty perspiration down her limbs Went streaming; and, oh wonderful to say, Thrice from the ground, accoutered as she was With shield and quivering spear, the image leaped. Straitway did Calchas prophecy that all Must forth again in flight upon the sea; That Troy could never by Argolic arms Be overthrown, save as they back again To sacred Argos fared and there regained That heavenly favor which they first had brought To Ilium. And now have they indeed Gone back to Greece, to seek fresh auspices, And win once more the blessing of the gods. And soon, and suddenly, the sea retraced, Will they be here again. So Calchas bade. Meanwhile, by that same prophet warned, did they This wooden image fashion to appease Th’ offended goddess, and atonement make To her outraged divinity. And more— The prophet bade them form an image huge Of oaken beams, of such proportions vast That through no gate of Troy could it be led, Nor set within the walls, lest thus once more The people from their ancient deity Protection find. For if Minerva’s gift Should by your hands be desecrated, then Would dreadful doom (Heaven send it on _their_ heads) Upon old Priam and his Phrygians come; But if within your walls this sacred horse Should by your voluntary hands be set, Then would all Asia rise with one accord, And sweep in mighty war against the Greeks, And that dire doom upon our grandsons fall.