*[Footnote: It was Palamedes who induced Ulysses to join in the expedition against Troy. Preferring to remain at home with his wife Penelope and his infant son Telemachus, Ulysses pretended madness, and Palamedes, when he came to beg for his aid, found him plowing up the seashore and sowing it with salt. Palamedes was quite certain that the madness was feigned, and to test it, set Telemachus in front of the plow. By turning aside his plow, Ulysses showed that he was really sane. Later Palamedes lost favor with Grecian leaders because he urged them to give up the struggle and return home.] *[Footnote: Calchas was the most famous of the Grecian sooth-sayers or prophets. They never began any important operations until Calchas had first been consulted and had told them what the gods willed.] *[Footnote: _Ithacus_ is a name given to Ulysses, who was from Ithaca.] *[Footnote: The sons of Atreus were Agamemnon, leader of the Grecians, and Menelaus, King of Sparta, the theft of whose wife, Helen, was cause of the Trojan War.] We press, we yearn the truth to know, Nor dream how doubly base our foe: He, faltering still and overawed, Takes up the unfinished web of fraud. "Oft had we planned to leave your shore, Nor tempt the weary conflict more. O, had we done it! sea and sky Scared us as oft, in act to fly: But chiefly when completed stood This horse, compact of maple wood, Fierce thunders, pealing in our ears, Proclaimed the turmoil of the spheres. Perplexed, Eurypylus we send To question what the fates portend, And he from Phoebus'* awful shrine Brings back the words of doom divine: 'With blood ye pacified the gales, E'en with a virgin slain,* When first ye Danaans spread your sails, The shores of Troy to gain: With blood ye your return must buy: A Greek must at the altar die.' That sentence reached the public ear, And bred the dull amaze of fear: Through every heart a shudder ran, 'Apollo's victim--who the man?' Ulysses, turbulent and loud, Drags Calchas forth before the crowd. And questions what the immortals mean, Which way these dubious beckonings lean: E'en then were some discerned my foe, And silent watch the coming blow. Ten days the seer, with bated breath, Restrained the utterance big with death: O'erborne at last, the word agreed He speaks, and destines me to bleed. All gave a sigh, as men set free, And hailed the doom, content to see The bolt that threatened each alike One solitary victim strike. The death-day came: the priests prepare Salt cakes, and fillets for my hair; I fled, I own it, from the knife, I broke my bands and ran for life, And in a marish lay that night, While they should sail, if sail they might. No longer have I hope, ah me! My ancient fatherland to see, Or look on those my eyes desire, My darling sons, my gray-haired sire: