Aeneid

Virgil

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

Then sovereign Juno, flushed with solemn scorn,
made answer. “Dost thou bid me here profane
the silence of my heart, and gossip forth
of secret griefs? What will of god or man
impelled Aeneas on his path of war,
or made him foeman of the Latin King?
Fate brought him to Italia? Be it so!
Cassandra's frenzy he obeyed. What voice —
say, was it mine?—urged him to quit his camp,
risk life in storms, or trust his war, his walls,
to a boy-captain, or stir up to strife
Etruria's faithful, unoffending sons?
What god, what pitiless behest of mine,
impelled him to such harm? Who traces here
the hand of Juno, or of Iris sped
from heaven? Is it an ignoble stroke
that Italy around the new-born Troy
makes circling fire, and Turnus plants his heel
on his hereditary earth, the son
of old Pilumnus and the nymph divine,
Venilia? For what offence would Troy
bring sword and fire on Latium, or enslave
lands of an alien name, and bear away
plunder and spoil? Why seek they marriages,
and snatch from arms of love the plighted maids?
An olive-branch is in their hands; their ships
make menace of grim steel. Thy power one day
ravished Aeneas from his Argive foes,
and gave them shape of cloud and fleeting air
to strike at for a man. Thou hast transformed
his ships to daughters of the sea. What wrong
if I, not less, have lent the Rutuli
something of strength in war? Aeneas, then,
is far away and knows not! Far away
let him remain, not knowing! If thou sway'st
Cythera, Paphos, and Idalium,
why rouse a city pregnant with loud wars,
and fiery hearts provoke? That fading power
of Phrygia, do I, forsooth, essay
to ruin utterly? O, was it I
exposed ill-fated Troy to Argive foe?
For what offence in vast array of arms
did Europe rise and Asia, for a rape
their peace dissolving? Was it at my word
th' adulterous Dardan shepherd came to storm
the Spartan city? Did my hand supply
his armament, or instigate a war
for Cupid's sake? Then was thy decent hour
to tremble for thy children; now too late
the folly of thy long lament to Heaven,
and objurgation vain.” Such Juno's plea;
the throng of gods with voices loud or low
gave various reply: as gathering winds
sing through the tree-tops in dark syllables,
and fling faint murmur on the far-off sea,
to tell some pilot of to-morrow's storm.
Then Jupiter omnipotent, whose hands
have governance supreme, began reply;
deep silence at his word Olympus knew,
Earth's utmost cavern shook; the realms of light
were silent; the mild zephyrs breathed no more,
and perfect calm o'erspread the levelled sea.
“Give ear, ye gods, and in your hearts record
my mandate and decree. Fate yet allows
no peace 'twixt Troy and Italy, nor bids
your quarrel end. Therefore, what Chance this day
to either foe shall bring, whatever hope
either may cherish,—the Rutulian cause
and Trojan have like favor in my eyes.
The destinies of Italy constrain
the siege; which for the fault of Troy fulfills
an oracle of woe. Yon Rutule host
I scatter not. But of his own attempt
let each the triumph and the burden bear;
for Jove is over all an equal King.
The Fates will find the way.” The god confirmed
his sentence by his Stygian brother's wave,
the shadowy flood and black, abysmal shore.
He nodded; at the bending of his brow
Olympus shook. It is the council's end.
Now from the golden throne uprises Jove;
the train of gods attend him to the doors.

Meanwhile at every gate the Rutule foe
urges the slaughter on, and closes round
the battlements with ring of flame. The host
of Trojans, prisoned in the palisades,
lies in strict siege and has no hope to fly.
In wretched plight they man the turrets tall,
to no avail, and with scant garrison
the ramparts crown. In foremost line of guard
are Asius Imbrasides, the twin
Assaraci, and Hicetaon's son
Thymoetes, and with Castor at his side
the veteran Thymbris; then the brothers both
of slain Sarpedon, and from Lycian steep
Clarus and Themon. With full-straining thews
lifting a rock, which was of some huge hill
no fragment small, Lyrnesian Acmon stood;
nor less than Clytius his sire he seemed,
nor Mnestheus his great brother. Some defend
the wall with javelins; some hurl down stones
or firebrands, or to the sounding string
fit arrows keen. But lo! amid the throng,
well worth to Venus her protecting care,
the Dardan boy, whose princely head shone forth
without a helm, like radiant jewel set
in burnished gold for necklace or for crown;
or like immaculate ivory inclosed
in boxwood or Orician terebinth;
his tresses o'er his white neck rippled down,
confined in circlet of soft twisted gold.
Thee, too, the warrior nations gaze upon,
high-nurtured Ismarus, inflicting wounds
with shafts of venomed reed: Maeonia's vale
thy cradle was, where o'er the fruitful fields
well-tilled and rich, Pactolus pours his gold.
Mnestheus was there, who, for his late repulse
of Turnus from the rampart, towered forth
in glory eminent; there Capys stood,
whose name the Capuan citadel shall bear.

While these in many a shock of grievous war
hotly contend, Aeneas cleaves his way
at midnight through the waters. He had fared
from old Evander to th' Etruscan folk,
addressed their King, and to him told the tale
of his own race and name, his suit, his powers;
of what allies Mezentius had embraced,
and Turnus' lawless rage. He bids him know
how mutable is man, and warning gives,
with supplication joined. Without delay
Tarchon made amity and sacred league,
uniting with his cause. The Lydian tribe,
now destined from its tyrant to be free,
embarked, obedient to the gods, and gave
allegiance to the foreign King. The ship
Aeneas rode moved foremost in the line:
its beak a pair of Phrygian lions bore;
above them Ida rose, an emblem dear
to exiled Trojans. On his Iofty seat
was great Aeneas, pondering the events
of changeful war; and clinging to his side
the youthful Pallas fain would learn the lore
of stars, the highway of dark night, and asks
the story of his toils on land and sea.

Now open Helicon and move my song,
ye goddesses, to tell what host in arms
followed Aeneas from the Tuscan shore,
and manned his ships and traveiled o'er the sea!

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.