Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- To him Latinus with unruffled mind
- thus made reply: “O youth surpassing brave!
- The more thy sanguinary valor burns
- beyond its wont, the more with toilsome care
- I ponder with just fear what chance may fall,
- weighing it well. Thy father Daunus' throne,
- and many a city by thy sword subdued,
- are still thy own. Latinus also boasts
- much golden treasure and a liberal hand.
- Other unwedded maids of noble stem
- in Latium and Laurentine land are found.
- Permit me, then, to tell thee without guile
- things hard to utter; let them deeply fill
- thy listening soul. My sacred duty 'twas
- to plight my daughter's hand to nonesoe'er
- of all her earlier wooers—so declared
- the gods and oracles; but overcome
- by love of thee, by thy dear, kindred blood,
- and by the sad eyes of my mournful Queen,
- I shattered every bond; I snatched away
- the plighted maiden from her destined lord,
- and took up impious arms. What evil case
- upon that deed ensued, what hapless wars,
- thou knowest, since thyself dost chiefly bear
- the cruel burden. In wide-ranging fight
- twice-conquered, our own city scarce upholds
- the hope of Italy. Yon Tiber's wave
- still runs warm with my people's blood; the plains
- far round us glisten with their bleaching bones.
- Why tell it o'er and o'er? What maddening dream
- perverts my mind? If after Turnus slain
- I must for friendship of the Trojan sue,
- were it not better to suspend the fray
- while Turnus lives? For what will be the word
- of thy Rutulian kindred—yea, of all
- Italia, if to death I give thee o'er—
- (Which Heaven avert!) because thou fain wouldst win
- my daughter and be sworn my friend and son?
- Bethink thee what a dubious work is war;
- have pity on thy father's reverend years,
- who even now thy absence daily mourns
- in Ardea, his native land and thine.”
- But to this pleading Turnus' frenzied soul
- yields not at all, but rather blazes forth
- more wildly, and his fever fiercer burns
- beneath the healer's hand. In answer he,
- soon as his passion gathered voice, began:
- “This keen solicitude for love of me,
- I pray, good sire, for love of me put by!
- And let me traffic in the just exchange
- of death for glory. This right hand, O King,
- can scatter shafts not few, nor do I wield
- untempered steel. Whene'er I make a wound
- blood follows. For my foeman when we meet
- will find no goddess-mother near, with hand
- to hide him in her woman's skirt of cloud,
- herself in dim, deluding shade concealed.”