ough 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.
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
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
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;
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,
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 m