Aeneid

Virgil

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

Meanwhile th' Olympian sovereign supreme
to Juno speaks, as from an amber cloud
the strife she views: “My Queen, what end shall be?
What yet remains? Thou seest Aeneas' name
numbered with tutelary gods of power;
and well thou know'st what station in the sky
his starward destiny intends. What scheme
vexes thy bosom still? What stubborn hope,
fostered in cloud and cold? O, was it well
to desecrate a god with mortal wound;
or well (what were a nymph unhelped by thee?)
to give back Turnus his lost sword, and lend
strength unavailing to the fallen brave?
Give o'er, and to our supplication yield;
let not such grief thy voiceless heart devour;
nor from thy sweet lips let thy mournful care
so oft assail my mind. For now is come
the last decisive day. Thy power availed
to vex the Trojans upon land and sea,
to wake abominable war, bring shame
upon a royal house, and mix the songs
of marriage and the grave: but further act
I thee refuse.” Such was the word of Jove.
Thus Saturn's daughter answered, drooping low
her brows divine: “Because, great Jove, I knew
thy pleasure, I from yonder earth retired
and Turnus' cause, tho, with unwilling mind.
Else shouldst thou not behold me at this hour
Upon my solitary throne of air
enduring fair and foul; I should be found
flame-girded on the battle's deadly verge,
tempting the Teucrians to a hated war.
Yea, 't was my motion thrust Juturna forth
to help her hapless brother. I approved—
to save his life—that she should be too bold;
but bade no whirl of spear nor bending bow:
I swear it by th' inexorable fount
whence flow the Stygian rivers, the sole seat
where gods of light bow down in awful prayer.
I yield me now; heart-sick I quit the war.
But ask one boon, which in the book of fate
is not denied; for Latium's good I sue,
and high prerogatives of men that be
thy kith and kin: when happy wedlock vows
(aye, be it so!) shall join them by strong laws
of chartered peace, let not the Latins Iose
their ancient, native name. Bid them not pass
for Trojans, nor be hailed as Teucer's sons;
no alien speech, no alien garb impose.
Let it be Latium ever; let the lords
of Alba unto distant ages reign;
let the strong, master blood of Rome receive
the manhood and the might of Italy.
Troy perished: let its name and glory die!”
The Author of mankind and all that is,
smiling benignant, answered thus her plea:
“Jove's sister true, and Saturn's second child,
what seas of anger vex thy heart divine!
But come, relinquish thy rash, fruitless rage:
I give thee this desire, and yield to thee
free submission. The Ausonian tribes
shall keep the speech and customs of their sires;
the name remains as now; the Teucrian race,
abiding in the land, shall but infuse
the mixture of its blood. I will bestow
a league of worship, and to Latins give
one language only. From the mingled breed
a people shall come forth whom thou shalt see
surpass all mortal men and even outvie
the faithfulness of gods; for none that live
shall render to thy name an equal praise.”
So Juno bowed consent, and let her will
be changed, as with much comfort in her breast
she left Olympus and her haunt of cloud.

After these things Jove gave his kingly mind
to further action, that he might forthwith
cut off Juturna from her brother's cause.
Two plagues there be, called Furies, which were spawned
at one birth from the womb of wrathful Night
with dread Megaera, phantom out of hell;
and of their mother's gift, each Fury wears
grim-coiling serpents and tempestuous wings.
These at Jove's throne attend, and watch the doors
of that stern King—to whet the edge of fear
for wretched mortals, when the King of gods
hurls pestilence and death, or terrifies
offending nations with the scourge of war.
'T was one of these which Jove sent speeding down
from his ethereal seat, and bade her cross
the pathway of Juturna for a sign.
Her wings she spread, and earthward seemed to ride
upon a whirling storm. As when some shaft,
with Parthian poison tipped or Cretan gall,
a barb of death, shoots cloudward from the bow,
and hissing through the dark hastes forth unseen:
so earthward flew that daughter of the night.
Soon as she spied the Teucrians in array
and Turnus' lines, she shrivelled to the shape
of that small bird which on lone tombs and towers
sits perching through the midnight, and prolongs
in shadow and deep gloom her troubling cry.
In such disguise the Fury, screaming shrill,
flitted in Turnus' face, and with her wings
smote on his hollow shield. A strange affright
palsied his every limb; each several hair
lifted with horror, and his gasping voice
died on his lips. But when Juturna knew
from far the shrieking fiend's infernal wing,
she loosed her tresses, and their beauty tore,
to tell a sister's woe; with clenching hands
she marred her cheeks and beat her naked breast.
“What remedy or help, my Turnus, now
is in a sister's power? What way remains
for stubborn me? Or with what further guile
thy life prolong? What can my strength oppose
to this foul thing? I quit the strife at last.
Withdraw thy terror from my fearful eyes,
thou bird accurst! The tumult of thy wings
I know full well, and thy death-boding call.
The harsh decrees of that large-minded Jove
I plainly see. Is this the price he pays
for my lost maidenhood? Why flatter me
with immortality, and snatch away
my property of death? What boon it were
to end this grief this hour, and hie away
to be my brother's helpmeet in his grave!
I, an immortal? O, what dear delight
is mine, sweet brother, living without thee?
O, where will earth yawn deep enough and wide
to hide a goddess with the ghosts below?”
She spoke; and veiled in glistening mantle gray
her mournful brow; then in her stream divine
the nymph sank sighing to its utmost cave.