From Pallas' favour, all our hopes, and all
Counfels and actions took original,
Till Diomed (for fuch attempts made fit
By dire conjunction with Ulyffes' wit)
Affails the facred tower, the guards they slay,
Defile with bloody hands, and thence convey
The fatal image; straight with our fuccefs
Our hopes fell back, whilft prodigies exprefs
Her just disdain, her flaming eyes did throw
Flashes of lightning, from each part did flow
A briny fweat, thrice brandishing her fpear,
Her ftatue from the ground itself did rear;
Then, that we should our facrilege restore,
And reconvey their gods from Argos' fhore,
Calchas perfuades, till then we urge in vain
The fate of Troy. To measure back the main
They all confent, but to return again,
When reinforc'd with aids of gods and men.
Thus Calchas; then, instead of that, this pile
To Pallas was defign'd; to reconcile
Th' offended power, and expiate our guilt;
To this vast height and monstrous stature built,
Left, through your gates receiv'd, it might renew
Your vows to her, and her defence to you.
But if this facred gift you dif-esteem,
Then cruel plagues (which heaven divert on them!)
Shall fall on Priam's ftate: but if the horfe
Your walls afcend, affifted by your force,
A league 'gainft Greece all Afia fhall contract:
Our fons then fuffering what their fires would act.
Thus by his fraud and our own faith o'ercome,
A feigned tear deftroys us, again whom
Tydides nor Achilles could prevail,
Nor ten years conflict, nor a thousand fail.
This feconded by a moft fad portent,
Which credit to the firft impofture lent;
Laocoon, Neptune's priest, upon the day
Devoted to that god, a bull did flay.
When two prodigious ferpents were defcry'd,
Whofe circling ftrokes the fea's smooth face divide;
Above the deep they raise their scaly crefts,
And ftem the flood with their erected breasts,
Their winding tails advance and steer their course,
And 'gainst the fhore the breaking billows force.
Now landing, from their brandifh'd tongues there came
A dreadful hiss, and from their eyes a flame.
Amaz'd we fly; directly in a line.
Laocoon they pursue, and first entwine
(Each preying upon one) his tender fons;
Then him, who armed to their rescue runs,
They feiz'd, and with entangling folds embrac'd,
His neck twice compaffing, and twice his waste :
Their poisonous knots he ftrives to break and tear,
While flime and blood his facred wreaths befmear;
Then loudly roars, as when th' enraged bull
From th' altar flies, and from his wounded skull
Shakes the huge ax; the conquering ferpents fly
To cruel Pallas' altar, and there lie
Under her feet, within her fhield's extent.
We, in our fears, conclude this fate was fent
Juftly on him, who ftruck the facred oak
With his accurfed lance. Then to invoke
The goddess, and let in the fatal horse,
We all confent.
A fpacious breach we make, and Troy's proud wall,
Built by the gods, by her own hands doth fall;
Thus, all their help to their own ruin give,
Some draw with cords, and fome the monster drive
With rolls and levers: thus our works it climbs,
Big with our fate, the youth with fongs and rhimes,
Some dance, fome hale the rope; at last let down
It enters with a thundering noise the town.
Oh Troy, the feat of gods, in war renown'd!
Three times it ftruck, as oft the clashing found
Of arms was heard, yet blinded by the power
Of fate, we place it in the facred tower.
Caffandra then foretels th' event, but the
Finds no belief (fuch was the gods' decree.)
The altars with fresh flowers we crown, and waste
In feafts that day, which was (alas!) our last.
Now by the revolution of the skies,
Night's fable fhadows from the ocean rise,
Which heaven and earth, and the Greek frauds involv'd,
The city in fecure repofe diffolv'd,
When from the admiral's high poop appears
A light, by which the Argive squadron steers
Their filent courfe to Ilium's well-known fhore,
When Sinon (fav'd by the gods' partial power)
Opens the horse, and through the unlockt doors
To the free air the armed freight reftores:
Ulyffes, Stheneleus, Tifander, flide
Down by a rope, Machaon was their guide;
Atrides, Pyrrhus, Thoas, Athamas,
And Epeus, who the fraud's contriver was:
The gates they feize; the guards, with fleep and wine Oppreft, furprize, and then their forces join.
'Twas then, when the first sweets of sleep repair Our bodies spent with toil, our minds with care; (The gods' best gift) when, bath'd in tears and blood, Before my face lamenting Hector food,
His afpect fuch when, foil'd with bloody duft,
Dragg'd by the cords which through his feet were thrust
By his infulting foe; O how transform'd,
How much unlike that Hector, who return'd
Clad in Achilles' fpoils; when he, among
A thousand fhips, (like Jove) his lightning flung!
His horrid beard and knotted treffes stood
Stiff with his gore, and all his wounds ran blood:
Intranc'd I lay, then (weeping) faid, the joy,
The hope and stay of thy declining Troy;
What region held thee, whence, so much defir'd,
Art thou reftor'd to us confum'd and tir'd.
With toils and deaths; but what fad cause confounds
Thy once fair looks, or why appear those wounds?
Regardless of my words, he no reply
Returns, but with a dreadful groan doth cry,
Fly from the flame, O goddess-born, our walls
The Greeks poffefs, and Troy confounded falls
From all her glories; if it might have stood
By any power, by this right hand it should.
What man could do, by me for Troy was done,
Take here her reliques and her gods, to run
With them thy fate, with them new walls expect,
Which, toft on feas, thou fhalt at last erect:
Then brings old Vesta from her facred quire,
Her holy wreaths, and her eternal fire.
Meanwhile the walls with doubtful cries refound
From far (for fhady coverts did furround
My father's house); approaching still more near
The clash of arms, and voice of men we hear :
Rouz'd from my bed, I fpeedily afcend
The houses tops, and listening there attend.
As flames roll'd by the winds confpiring force,
O'er full-ear'd corn, or torrents raging courfe
Bears down th' oppofing oaks, the fields deftroys,
And mocks the plough-man's toil, th' unlook'd for noise
From neighbouring hills th' amazed shepherd hears;
Such my furprize, and fuch their rage appears.
First fell thy house, Ucalegon, then thine
Deïphobus, Sigæan feas did fhine
Bright with Troy's flames; the trumpets dreadful found
The louder groans of dying men confound;
Give me my arms, I cry'd, refolv'd to throw
Myself 'mong any that oppos'd the foe:
Rage, anger, and despair at once fuggeft,
That of all deaths, to die in arms was beft.
The first I met was Pantheus, Phœbus' priest,
Who 'fcaping with his gods and reliques fled,
And towards the fhore his little grandchild led;
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