A captive Greek, in bands, before the king; Taken to take; who made himself their prey, T’ impose on their belief, and Troy betray; Fix’d 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 disguis’d; Behold a nation in a man compris’d. Trembling the miscreant stood, unarm’d and bound; He star’d, and roll’d his haggard eyes around, Then said: ‘Alas! what earth remains, what sea Is open to receive unhappy me? What fate a wretched fugitive attends, Scorn’d by my foes, abandon’d by my friends?’ He said, and sigh’d, 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. “His fear at length dismiss’d, he said: ‘Whate’er My fate ordains, my words shall be sincere: I neither can nor dare my birth disclaim; Greece is my country, Sinon is my name. Tho’ plung’d by Fortune’s pow’r in misery, ’Tis not in Fortune’s pow’r to make me lie. If any chance has hither brought the name Of Palamedes, not unknown to fame, Who suffer’d from the malice of the times, Accus’d and sentenc’d for pretended crimes, Because these fatal wars he would prevent; Whose death the wretched Greeks too late lament; 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 favour’d, while his arms support The cause, and rul’d 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 people’s hearts, And forg’d a treason in my patron’s name (I speak of things too far divulg’d by fame), My kinsman fell. Then I, without support, In private mourn’d his loss, and left the court. Mad as I was, I could not bear his fate With silent grief, but loudly blam’d the state, And curs’d the direful author of my woes. ’Twas told again; and hence my ruin rose. I threaten’d, if indulgent Heav’n once more Would land me safely on my native shore, His death with double vengeance to restore. This mov’d the murderer’s hate; and soon ensued Th’ effects of malice from a man so proud. Ambiguous rumours thro’ the camp he spread, And sought, by treason, my devoted head; New crimes invented; left unturn’d no stone, To make my guilt appear, and hide his own; Till Calchas was by force and threat’ning wrought: