He had no need to ask us. Priam said, _Untie him_, and we did so with a promise To spare his life. Our king, with friendly words, Addressed him, saying, ‘Whoever you are, forget The Greeks, from now on. You are ours; but tell me Why they have built this monstrous horse? who made it, Who thought of it? What is it, war-machine, Religious offering?’ And he, instructed In every trick and artifice, made answer, Lifting his hands, now free: ‘Eternal fires, Inviolable godhead, be my witness, You altars, you accursèd swords, you fillets Which I as victim wore, I had the right To break those solemn bonds, I had the right To hate those men, to bring whatever they hide Into the light and air; I am bound no longer To any country, any laws, but, Trojans, Keep to the promise, if I tell the truth, If I pay back with interest. All the Greek hope, since first the war began, Rested in Pallas, always. But Ulysses, The crime-contriver, and the son of Tydeus Attacked Minerva’s temple, stole her image Out of the holy shrine, and slew the guards, And laid their bloody hands upon the goddess, And from that time the Danaan hopes were broken, Faltered and failed. It was no doubtful anger Pallas revealed; she gave them signs and portents. From her image in the camp the upraised eyes Shot fire, and sweat ran salty down the limbs, Thrice from the ground she seemed to flash and leap With vibrant spear and clashing shield. The priest, Calchas, made prophecy: they must take to flight Over the sea, and Troy could not be taken Without new omens; they must go to Argos, Bring back the goddess again, whom they have taken In curved ships over the sea. And if they have gone, They are bound for home, Mycenae, for new arms, New gods, new soldiers; they will be here again When least expected. Calchas’ message warned them, And so they built this image, to replace The one they had stolen, a gigantic offering For a tremendous sacrilege. It was Calchas, Again, who bade them build a mass so mighty It almost reached the stars, too big to enter Through any gate, or be brought inside the walls. For if your hands should damage it, destruction, (May God avert it) would come upon the city, But if your hands helped bring it home, then Asia Would be invading Greece, and doom await Our children’s children.’ We believed him, we Whom neither Diomede nor great Achilles Had taken, nor ten years, nor that armada, A thousand ships of war. But Sinon did it By perjury and guile.