Aeneid

Virgil

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

  1. By such discourse he stirred the burning blood
  2. of Turnus, who groaned loud and from his heart
  3. this utterance hurled: “O Drances, thou art rich
  4. in large words, when the day of battle calls
  5. for actions. If our senators convene
  6. thou comest early. But the council hall
  7. is not for swollen talk, such as thy tongue
  8. in safety tosses forth; so long as walls
  9. hold back thy foes, and ere the trenches flow
  10. with blood of brave men slain. O, rattle on
  11. in fluent thunder—thy habitual style!
  12. Brand me a coward, Drances, when thy sword
  13. has heaped up Trojan slain, and on the field
  14. thy shining trophies rise. Now may we twain
  15. our martial prowess prove. Our foe, forsooth,
  16. is not so far to seek; around yon wall
  17. he lies in siege: to front him let us fly!
  18. Why art thou tarrying? Wilt thou linger here,
  19. a soldier only in thy windy tongue,
  20. and thy swift, coward heels? Defeated, I?
  21. Foul wretch, what tongue that honors truth can tell
  22. of my defeat, while Tiber overflows
  23. with Trojan blood? while King Evander's house
  24. in ruin dies, and his Arcadians lie
  25. stripped naked on the field? O, not like thee
  26. did Bitias or the giant Pandarus
  27. misprize my honor; nor those men of Troy
  28. whom this good sword to death and dark sent down,
  29. a thousand in a day,—though I was penned
  30. a prisoner in the ramparts of my foe.