Aeneid

Virgil

Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.

First Massicus his brazen Tigress rode,
cleaving the brine; a thousand warriors
were with him out of Clusium's walls, or from
the citadel of Coste, who for arms
had arrows, quivers from the shoulder slung,
and deadly bows. Grim Abas near him sailed;
his whole band wore well-blazoned mail; his ship
displayed the form of Phoebus, all of gold:
to him had Populonia consigned
(His mother-city, she) six hundred youth
well-proven in war; three hundred Elba gave,
an island rich in unexhausted ores
of iron, like the Chalybes. Next came
Asilas, who betwixt the gods and men
interprets messages and reads clear signs
in victims' entrails, or the stars of heaven,
or bird-talk, or the monitory flames
of lightning: he commands a thousand men
close lined, with bristling spears, of Pisa all,
that Tuscan city of Alpheus sprung.
Then Astur followed, a bold horseman he,
Astur in gorgeous arms, himself most fair:
three hundred are his men, one martial mind
uniting all: in Caere they were bred
and Minio's plain, and by the ancient towers
of Pyrgo or Gravisca's storm-swept hill.

Nor thy renown may I forget, brave chief
of the Ligurians, Cinyrus; nor thine,
Cupavo, with few followers, thy crest
the tall swan-wings, of love unblest the sign
and of a father fair: for legends tell
that Cycnus, for his Phaethon so dear
lamenting loud beneath the poplar shade
of the changed sisters, made a mournful song
to soothe his grief and passion: but erewhile,
in his old age, there clothed him as he sang
soft snow-white plumes, and spurning earth he soared
on high, and sped in music through the stars.
His son with bands of youthful peers urged on
a galley with a Centaur for its prow,
which loomed high o'er the waves, and seemed to hurl
a huge stone at the water, as the keel
ploughed through the deep. Next Ocnus summoned forth
a war-host from his native shores, the son
of Tiber, Tuscan river, and the nymph
Manto, a prophetess: he gave good walls,
O Mantua, and his mother's name, to thee,—
to Mantua so rich in noble sires,
but of a blood diverse, a triple breed,
four stems in each; and over all enthroned
she rules her tribes: her strength is Tuscan born.
Hate of Mezentius armed against his name
five hundred men: upon their hostile prow
was Mincius in a cloak of silvery sedge,—
Lake Benacus the river's source and sire.
Last good Aulestes smites the depths below,
with forest of a hundred oars: the flood
like flowing marble foams; his Triton prow
threatens the blue waves with a trumpet-shell;
far as the hairy flanks its form is man,
but ends in fish below—the parting waves
beneath the half-brute bosom break in foam.
Such chosen chiefs in thirty galleys ploughed
the salt-wave, bringing help to Trojan arms.

Day now had left the sky. The moon benign
had driven her night-wandering chariot
to the mid-arch of heaven. Aeneas sate,
for thought and care allowed him no repose,
holding the helm and tending his own sails.
but, as he sped, behold, the beauteous train,
lately his own, of nymphs, anon transformed
by kind Cybebe to sea-ruling powers.
In even ranks they swam the cloven wave,—
nymphs now, but once as brazen galleys moored
along the sandy shore. With joy they knew
their King from far, and with attending train
around him drew. Cymodocea then,
best skilled in mortal speech, sped close behind,
with her right hand upon the stern, uprose
breast-high, and with her left hand deeply plied
the silent stream, as to the wondering King
she called: “So late on watch, O son of Heaven,
Aeneas? Slack thy sail, but still watch on!
We were the pine-trees on the holy top
of Ida's mountain. Sea-nymphs now are we,
and thine own fleet. When, as we fled, the flames
rained o'er us from the false Rutulian's hand
't was all unwillingly we cast away
thy serviceable chains: and now once more
we follow thee across the sea. These forms
our pitying mother bade us take, with power
to haunt immortally the moving sea.
Lo, thy Ascanius lies close besieged
in moated walls, assailed by threatening arms
and Latium's front of war. Arcadia,
her horsemen with the bold Etruscan joined,
stands at the place appointed. Turnus means,
with troop opposing, their advance to bar
and hold them from the camp. Arouse thee, then,
and with the rising beams of dawn call forth
thy captains and their followers. Take that shield
victorious, which for thee the Lord of Fire
forged for a gift and rimmed about with gold.
To-morrow's light—deem not my words be vain!—
shall shine on huge heaps of Rutulia's dead.”
So saying, she pushed with her right hand the stern
with skilful thrust, and vanished. The ship sped
swift as a spear, or as an arrow flies
no whit behind the wind: and all the fleet
quickened its course. Anchises' princely son,
dumb and bewildered stood, but took good heart
at such an omen fair. Then in few words
with eyes upturned to heaven he made his prayer:
“Mother of gods, O Ida's Queen benign,
who Iovest Dindymus and towns with towers,
and lion-yokes obedient to thy rein,
be thou my guide in battle, and fulfil
thine augury divine. In Phrygia's cause
be present evermore with favoring power!”
He spoke no more. For now the wheels of day
had sped full circle into perfect light,
the dark expelling. Then, for his first care,
he bade his captains heed the signal given,
equip their souls for war, and wait in arms
the coming fray. Now holds he full in view
his Trojans and their fortress, as he stands
upon his towering ship. With his left hand
he lifts his radiant shield; then from the wall
the Dardan warriors send a battle-cry
that echoes to the stars, as kindling hope
their rage renews. A flight of spears they hurl:
't was like the cranes of Strymon, through dark clouds
each other calling, when they cleave the skies
vociferous, outwinging as they fly
the swift south winds—Ioud music them pursues.
Amazement on Ausonia's captains fell
and Turnus, as they gazed. But soon they saw
ships pointing shoreward and the watery plain
all stirring with a fleet. Aeneas' helm
uplifted its bright peak,—like streaming flame
the crimson crest; his shield of orbed gold
poured forth prodigious fire: it seemed as when
in cloudless night a comet's blood-red beam
makes mournful splendor, or the Dog-star glows,
which rises to bring drought and pestilence
to hapless men, and with ill-omened ray
saddens the sky. But Turnus, undismayed,
trusted not less to hurl th' invaders back
and hold the shore against them. “Look!” he cried,
your prayer is come to pass,—that sword in hand
ye now may shatter them. The might of Mars
is in a true man's blow. Remember well
each man his home and wife! Now call to mind
the glory and great deeds of all your sires!
Charge to yon river-bank, while yet they take
with weak and fearful steps their shoreward way!
Fortune will help the brave.” With words like these,
he chose, well-weighing, who should lead the charge,
who at the leaguered walls the fight sustain.

Aeneas straightway from his lofty ships
lets down his troop by bridges. Some await
the ebbing of slack seas, and boldly leap
into the shallows; others ply the oar.
Tarchon a beach discovers, where the sands
sing not, nor waves with broken murmur fall,
but full and silent swells the gentle sea.
Steering in haste that way, he called his crews:
“Now bend to your stout oars, my chosen brave.
Lift each ship forward, till her beak shall cleave
yon hostile shore; and let her keel's full weight
the furrow drive. I care not if we break
our ship's side in so sure an anchorage,
if once we land.” While Tarchon urged them thus,
the crews bent all together to their blades
and sped their foaming barks to Latium's plain,
till each beak gripped the sand and every keel
lay on dry land unscathed:—all save thine own,
O Tarchon! dashed upon a sand-bar, she!
Long poised upon the cruel ridge she hung,
tilted this way or that and beat the waves,
then split, and emptied forth upon the tide
her warriors; and now the drifting wreck
of shattered oars and thwarts entangles them,
or ebb of swirling waters sucks them down.

Turnus no lingering knows, but fiercely hurls
his whole line on the Teucrians, and makes stand
along the shore. Now peals the trumpet's call.
Aeneas in the van led on his troop
against the rustic foe, bright augury
for opening war, and laid the Latins low,
slaughtering Theron, a huge chief who dared
offer Aeneas battle; through the scales
of brazen mail and corselet stiff with gold
the sword drove deep, and gored the gaping side.
Then smote he Lichas, from his mother's womb
ripped in her dying hour, and unto thee,
O Phoebus, vowed, because his infant days
escaped the fatal steel. Hard by him fell
stout Cisseus and gigantic Gyas; these
to death were hurled, while with their knotted clubs
they slew opposing hosts; but naught availed
Herculean weapons, nor their mighty hands,
or that Melampus was their sire, a peer
of Hercules, what time in heavy toils
through earth he roved. See next how Pharon boasts!
But while he vainly raves, the whirling spear
smites full on his loud mouth. And also thou,
Cydon, wast by the Trojan stroke o'erthrown,
while following in ill-omened haste the steps
of Clytius, thy last joy, whose round cheek wore
its youthful golden down: soon hadst thou lain
in death, unheeding of thy fancies fond
which ever turned to youth;—but now arose
the troop of all thy brothers, Phorcus' sons,
a close array of seven, and seven spears
they hurled: some from Aeneas' helm or shield
glanced off in vain; some Venus' kindly power,
just as they touched his body, turned away.
Aeneas then to true Achates cried:
“Bring on my spears: not one shall fruitless fly
against yon Rutules, even as they pierced
the breasts of Greeks upon the Ilian plain.”
Then one great shaft he seized and threw; it sped
straight into Maeon's brazen shield, and clove
his mail-clad heart. Impetuous to his aid
brother Alcanor came, and lifted up
with strong right hand his brother as he fell:
but through his arm a second skilful shaft
made bloody way, and by the sinews held
the lifeless right hand from the shoulder swung.
Then from his brother's body Numitor
the weapon plucked and hurled it, furious,
upon Aeneas; but it could not strike
the hero's self, and grazed along the thigh
of great Achates. Next into the fight
Clausus of Cures came, in youthful bloom
exulting, and with far-thrown javelin
struck Dryops at the chin, and took away
from the gashed, shrieking throat both life and voice;
the warrior's fallen forehead smote the dust;
his lips poured forth thick blood. There also fell
three Thracians, odspring of the lordly stem
of Boreas, and three of Idas' sons
from Ismara, by various doom struck down.
Halaesus here his wild Auruncans brings;
and flying to the fight comes Neptune's son,
Messapus, famous horseman. On both sides
each charges on the foe. Ausonia's strand
is one wide strife. As when o'er leagues of air
the envious winds give battle to their peers,
well-matched in rage and power; and neither they
nor clouds above, nor plunging seas below
will end the doubtful war, but each withstands
the onset of the whole—in such wild way
the line of Trojans on the Latian line
hurls itself, limb on limb and man on man.

But at a distance where the river's flood
had scattered rolling boulders and torn trees
uprooted from the shore, young Pallas spied
th' Arcadian band, unused to fight on foot,
in full retreat, the Latins following close—
who also for the roughness of the ground
were all unmounted: he (the last resource
of men in straits) to wild entreaty turned
and taunts, enkindling their faint hearts anew:
“Whither, my men! O, by your own brave deeds,
O, by our lord Evander's happy wars,
the proud hopes I had to make my name
a rival glory,—think not ye can fly!
Your swords alone can carve ye the safe way
straight through your foes. Where yonder warrior-throng
is fiercest, thickest, there and only there
your Country's honor calls for men like you,
and for your captain Pallas. Nay, no gods
against us fight; we are but mortal men
pressed by a mortal foe. Not more than ours
the number of their lives or swords. Behold,
the barrier of yonder spreading sea
emprisons us, and for a craven flight
yon lands are all too small. Ha! Shall we steer
across the sea to Troy?” He said, and sprang
full in the centre of his gathered foes.

First in his path was Lagus, thither led
by evil stars; whom, as he tried to lift
a heavy stone, the shaft of Pallas pierced
where ribs and spine divide: backward he drew
the clinging spear; But Hisbo from above
surprised him not, though meaning it; for while
(In anger blind for friend unpitying slain)
at Pallas' face he flew:—he, standing firm,
plunged deep into that swelling breast the sword.
Then Sthenius he slew; and next Anchemolus
of Rhoetus' ancient line, who dared defile
his step-dame's bridal bed. And also ye,
fair Thymber and Larides, Daucus' twins,
fell on that Rutule field; so like were ye,
your own kin scarce discerned, and parents proud
smiled at the dear deceit; but now in death
cruel unlikeness Pallas wrought; thy head
fell, hapless Thymber, by Evander's sword;
and thy right hand, Larides, shorn away,
seemed feeling for its Iord; the fingers cold
clutched, trembling, at the sword. Now all the troop
of Arcady, their chief's great action seen,
and by his warning roused, made at their foes,
spurred on by grief and shame. Next Pallas pierced
the flying Rhoetus in his car; this gained
for Ilus respite and delay, for him
the stout spear aimed at; but its flight was stopped
by Rhoetus, as in swift retreat he rode,
by the two high-born brothers close pursued,
Teuthras and Tyres: from his car he rolled,
making deep furrows with his lifeless heels
along the Rutule plain. Oft when the winds
of summer, long awaited, rise and blow,
a shepherd fires the forest, and the blaze
devours the dense grove, while o'er the fields,
in that one moment, swift and sudden spread
grim Vulcan's serried flames; from some high seat
on distant hill, the shepherd peering down
sees, glad at heart, his own victorious fires:
so now fierce valor spreads, uniting all
in one confederate rage, 'neath Pallas' eyes.
But the fierce warrior Halaesus next
led on the charge, behind his skilful shield
close-crouching. Ladon and Demodocus
and Pheres he struck down; his glittering blade
cut Strymon's hand, which to his neck was raised,
sheer off; with one great stone he crushed the brows
of Thoas, scattering wide the broken skull,
bones, brains, and gore. Halaesus' prophet-sire,
foreseeing doom, had hid him in dark groves;
but when the old man's fading eyes declined
in death, the hand of Fate reached forth and doomed
the young life to Evander's sword; him now
Pallas assailed, first offering this prayer:
“O Father Tiber, give my poising shaft
through stout Halaesus' heart its lucky way!
The spoil and trophy of the hero slain
on thine own oak shall hang.” The god received
the vow, and while Halaesus held his shield
over Imaon, his ill-fated breast
lay naked to th' Arcadian's hungry spear.