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