The Aeneid (11 page)

                
Dido spoke: ‘Jupiter, to you we pray, since men say that you
                ordain the laws of hospitality. Grant that this day may be a day
                of happiness for the Tyrians and the men from Troy, and may
                our descendants long remember it. Let Bacchus, giver of good
                cheer, be among us, and kindly Juno, and you, Tyrians, celebrate
                this gathering with welcome in your hearts.’

                At these words she poured a libation of wine on the table to
                honour the gods, and having poured it, she took it first and just
                touched it to her lips. She then passed it to Bitias with a smile
                and a challenge. Nothing loth, he took a great draught from the
740         golden bowl foaming to the brim, and bathed himself in wine.
                The other leaders of the Carthaginians did the same after him.
                Long-haired Iopas, the pupil of mighty Atlas, then sang to his
                gilded lyre of the wanderings of the moon and the labours of
                the sun, the origin of the human race and of the animals, the
                causes of rain and of the fires of heaven, of Arcturus, of
                the Hyades, bringers of rain, of the two Triones, the oxen of the
                Plough; why the winter suns are so eager to immerse themselves
                in the ocean, and what it is that slows down the passage of the
                nights. The Tyrians applauded again and again and the Trojans
                followed their lead.

                So the doomed Dido was drawing out the night with all
                manner of talk, drinking long draughts of love as she asked
750         question after question about Priam and Hector, what armour
                Memnon, son of the Dawn, was wearing when he came, what
                kind of horses did Diomede have, how tall was Achilles. ‘But
                no,’ she said, ‘come tell your hosts from the beginning about
                the treachery of the Greeks, the sufferings of your people and
                your own wanderings, for this is now the seventh summer that
                has carried you as a wanderer over every land and sea.’

             They all fell silent, gazing at Father Aeneas, and he began to
                speak from his raised couch: ‘O queen, the sorrow you bid
                me bring to life again is past all words, the destruction by the
                Greeks of the wealth of Troy and of the kingdom that will be
                mourned for ever, and all the horrors I have seen, and in which
                I played a large part. No man could speak of such things and
                not weep, none of the Myrmidons of Achilles or the Dolopians
                of Neoptolemus, not even a follower of Ulixes, a man not prone
                to pity. Besides, the dewy night is already falling fast from the
10           sky and the setting stars are speaking to us of sleep. But if you
                have such a great desire to know what we suffered, to hear in
                brief about the last agony of Troy, although my mind recoiled
                in anguish when you asked and I shudder to remember, I shall
                begin:

                Year after year the leaders of the Greeks had been broken in
                war and denied by the Fates, until, with the aid of the divine
                skill of Pallas Athene, they built a horse the size of a mountain,
                cutting pine trees to weave into it for ribs. They pretended it
                was a votive offering for their safe return to Greece, and that
                was the story on men’s lips. Then they chose some men by lot
                from their best warriors and shut them up in the darkness of its
20           belly, filling the vast cavern of its womb with armed soldiers.

                Within sight of the mainland is the island of Tenedos, famous
                in story. While the kingdom of Priam stood, it was rich and
                prosperous, but now there is only a bay giving a none too safe
                anchorage for ships. The Greeks sailed here and took cover on
                its lonely shore. We thought they had left us and sailed for
                
Mycenae with favouring winds. The whole of Troy then shook
                itself free of its long sorrow. The gates were thrown open and
                the people went out rejoicing to see the Greek encampment, the
                deserted shore and all the places abandoned by the enemy. Here
                was the Dolopian camp and here fierce Achilles had his tent.
30           This was where the fleet was drawn up. This was where they
                used to fight their battles. Some gazed at the fatal offering to the
                virgin goddess Minerva and marvelled at the huge size of the
                horse. Thymoetes was the first to urge them to drag it inside
                their walls and set it on their citadel, whether it was treachery
                that made him speak, or whether the Fates of Troy were already
                moving towards that end. But Capys, and those of sounder
                judgement, did not trust this offering. They thought it was some
                trick of the Greeks and should be thrown into the sea, or set fire
                to and burned, or that they should bore holes in its hollow belly
                and probe for hiding places. The people were uncertain and
                their passions were divided.

40           Then suddenly at the head of a great throng Laocoon came
                running down in a blaze of fury from the heights of the citadel,
                shouting from a distance as he came: ‘O you poor fools! Are
                you out of your minds, you Trojans? Do you seriously believe
                that your enemies have sailed away? Do you imagine Greeks
                ever give gifts without some devious purpose? Is this all you
                know about Ulixes? I tell you there are Greeks hiding in here,
                shut up in all this wood, or else it is a siege engine designed for
                use against our walls, to spy on our homes and come down on
                the city from above, or else there is some other trick we cannot
                see. Do not trust the horse, Trojans. Whatever it is, I am afraid
                of Greeks, even when they bear gifts.’

50           With these words he threw a great spear with all his strength
                into the beast’s side, into the curved timbers of its belly. It stuck
                there vibrating, the creature’s womb quivered and the hollow
                caverns boomed and groaned. If divine Fate, if the minds of the
                gods had not been set against us, Laocoon would surely have
                forced us to tear open the hiding places of the Greeks with our
                swords, Troy would still be standing and the high citadel of
                Priam would still be in its place.

                While this was going on, there was a sudden outcry, and some
                
Trojan shepherds came before the king, dragging a man with
                his hands tied behind his back. They knew nothing about him.
60           They had come upon him and he had given himself up. This was
                all part of his scheme. His purpose was to open Troy to the
                Greeks. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and he was
                ready for either outcome, to spin his web or to meet certain
                death if he failed. In their eagerness to see the prisoner, Trojan
                soldiers came running up from all sides, and gathered round to
                join in jeering at him. Listen now to this story of Greek treachery,
                and from this one indictment, learn the ways of a whole people.
                Dishevelled and defenceless, he stood there with every eye upon
                him, looking all round him at the warriors of Troy, and said
70           with a great sigh: ‘There is nowhere for me now on sea or land.
                There is nothing left for a man like me, who has no place among
                the Greeks, and now here are my enemies the Trojans, baying
                for my blood.’

                He groaned. We had a change of heart, and all our passions
                were checked. We fell to asking him what his family was, and
                what he had come to tell us. We wanted to hear why he had
                allowed himself to be taken prisoner.

                ‘O king Priam,’ he replied, ‘I am the sort of man who will
                confess the whole truth to you, whatever it may be. First of all,
80           I am a Greek from Argos, and I will not deny it. Fortune may
                have made Sinon an object of pity, but for all her malice, she
                will never make him a cheat or a liar. You may perhaps have
                heard tell of the name of Palamedes, son of Belus, and the great
                glory that was his. Although he was innocent, false information
                was infamously laid against him. His offence was that he
                objected to the war, and the Greeks put him to death. They
                murdered him and now they mourn him. This Palamedes was
                my comrade and my kinsman. My father was a poor man, and
                sent me here to the war to be with him from my earliest years.
                While Palamedes was secure in his kingship and had authority
90           in the council of the kings, we too had some standing and some
                credit. But after he left the shores of this upper world, the victim
                of the jealousy of Ulixes and his smooth tongue (you all know
                about Ulixes), I was prostrate and dragged out my life in darkness
                and grief, brooding to myself over the downfall of my
                
innocent friend, till, like a madman, I broke my silence and
                promised that I would miss no chance of revenge if ever I came
                back in victory to our native Argos. My words roused his bitter
                hatred. This was my first step on a slippery path. From this
                moment on, Ulixes kept me in a constant state of fear by one
                new accusation after another. From this moment on he spread
                vague rumours about me among the common soldiers. He knew
                he was guilty and was looking for weapons to use against me.
100         Nor did he rest until with Calchas the priest as his lackey…
                but why do I waste time? Why go over this sordid story to no
                purpose? If in your eyes all Greeks are the same, and all you have
                to know is that a man is a Greek, then give me my punishment. It
                is long overdue. This would please Ulixes, our friend from
                Ithaca, and Agamemnon and Menelaus would pay you well
                for it.’

                By this time we were burning to ask questions and find out
                why all this had happened. We had never met villainy on this
                scale before. We were not familiar with the arts of Greece. He
                went on with his lies, cringing with fear as he spoke:

                ‘The Greeks have often wanted to make their escape from
                here and leave Troy far behind them, abandoning this long and
110         weary war. And oh how I wish they had done so! But again and
                again rough seas here kept them in port or the south wind
                alarmed them as they were setting sail. And most of all, when
                this construction of interwoven maple beams, this horse, was at
                last in position here, the black clouds thundered all round the
                sky. We were at a loss and sent Eurypylus to consult the oracle
                of Phoebus Apollo, and this is the grim response he brought
                back from the shrine: “When you Greeks first came to Troy you
                killed a virgin and appeased the winds with her blood. With
                blood you must find a way to return. You must sacrifice a Greek
120         life.” When this answer came to people’s ears, they did not
                know where to turn, and the cold fear ran through the marrow
                of their bones. For whom were they to prepare death? Whom
                did Apollo want? At this point there was a great uproar, and
                the Ithacan dragged out the prophet Calchas into the middle of
                us and demanded to know what was the will of the gods. Many
                people could detect even then the ruthless hand of the schemer
                
directed against me. They saw what was to come and held their
                peace. For ten days Calchas gave no answer, concealing himself
                and refusing to say the word that would betray a man and send
                him to his death. But at long last, all according to plan, he
                allowed the clamour raised by the Ithacan to force him to break
130         his silence and mark me out for the altar. They all agreed. They
                had all been afraid, but now one man was doomed, and this
                they could endure.

                ‘The day of the abomination was soon upon us. The sacred
                rites were all prepared for me. The salted meal was sprinkled
                and the sacrificial ribbons were round my head. I escaped from
                death, I admit it, I broke my bonds, and lay hidden all night in
                the reeds of a marsh, waiting for them to set sail, and wondering
                if they had. I have no hope now of seeing the land which was
                once my home, or my beloved children, or my father whom I
140         have so often longed for. Perhaps they will be punished for my
                escape, and wash away this guilt of mine with their own helpless
                blood. But I beg of you by the gods who know the truth, by any
                honesty that may survive unsullied between men, pity me in my
                great suffering. I know in my heart I have not deserved it.’