Aeneid

Virgil

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

That hour it was when heaven's first gift of sleep
on weary hearts of men most sweetly steals.
O, then my slumbering senses seemed to see
Hector, with woeful face and streaming eyes;
I seemed to see him from the chariot trailing,
foul with dark dust and gore, his swollen feet
pierced with a cruel thong. Ah me! what change
from glorious Hector when he homeward bore
the spoils of fierce Achilles; or hurled far
that shower of torches on the ships of Greece!
Unkempt his beard, his tresses thick with blood,
and all those wounds in sight which he did take
defending Troy. Then, weeping as I spoke,
I seemed on that heroic shape to call
with mournful utterance: “O star of Troy!
O surest hope and stay of all her sons!
Why tarriest thou so Iong? What region sends
the long-expected Hector home once more?
These weary eyes that look on thee have seen
hosts of thy kindred die, and fateful change
upon thy people and thy city fall.
O, say what dire occasion has defiled
thy tranquil brows? What mean those bleeding wounds?”
Silent he stood, nor anywise would stay
my vain lament; but groaned, and answered thus:
“Haste, goddess-born, and out of yonder flames
achieve thy flight. Our foes have scaled the wall;
exalted Troy is falling. Fatherland
and Priam ask no more. If human arm
could profit Troy, my own had kept her free.
Her Lares and her people to thy hands
Troy here commends. Companions let them be
of all thy fortunes. Let them share thy quest
of that wide realm, which, after wandering far,
thou shalt achieve, at last, beyond the sea.”
He spoke: and from our holy hearth brought forth
the solemn fillet, the ancestral shrines,
and Vesta's ever-bright, inviolate fire.

Now shrieks and loud confusion swept the town;
and though my father's dwelling stood apart
embowered deep in trees, th' increasing din
drew nearer, and the battle-thunder swelled.
I woke on sudden, and up-starting scaled
the roof, the tower, then stood with listening ear:
't was like an harvest burning, when wild winds
uprouse the flames; 't was like a mountain stream
that bursts in flood and ruinously whelms
sweet fields and farms and all the ploughman's toil,
whirling whole groves along; while dumb with fear,
from some far cliff the shepherd hears the sound.
Now their Greek plot was plain, the stratagem
at last laid bare. Deiphobus' great house
sank vanquished in the fire. Ucalegon's
hard by was blazing, while the waters wide
around Sigeum gave an answering glow.
Shrill trumpets rang; Ioud shouting voices roared;
wildly I armed me (when the battle calls,
how dimly reason shines!); I burned to join
the rally of my peers, and to the heights
defensive gather. Frenzy and vast rage
seized on my soul. I only sought what way
with sword in hand some noble death to die.

When Panthus met me, who had scarce escaped
the Grecian spears,—Panthus of Othrys' line,
Apollo's priest within our citadel;
his holy emblems, his defeated gods,
and his small grandson in his arms he bore,
while toward the gates with wild, swift steps he flew.
“How fares the kingdom, Panthus? What strong place
is still our own?” But scarcely could I ask
when thus, with many a groan, he made reply:—
“Dardania's death and doom are come to-day,
implacable. There is no Ilium now;
our Trojan name is gone, the Teucrian throne
Quite fallen. For the wrathful power of Jove
has given to Argos all our boast and pride.
The Greek is Iord of all yon blazing towers.
yon horse uplifted on our city's heart
disgorges men-at-arms. False Sinon now,
with scorn exultant, heaps up flame on flame.
Others throw wide the gates. The whole vast horde
that out of proud Mycenae hither sailed
is at us. With confronting spears they throng
each narrow passage. Every steel-bright blade
is flashing naked, making haste for blood.
Our sentries helpless meet the invading shock
and give back blind and unavailing war.”
By Panthus' word and by some god impelled,
I flew to battle, where the flames leaped high,
where grim Bellona called, and all the air
resounded high as heaven with shouts of war.
Rhipeus and Epytus of doughty arm
were at my side, Dymas and Hypanis,
seen by a pale moon, join our little band;
and young Coroebus, Mygdon's princely son,
who was in Troy that hour because he loved
Cassandra madly, and had made a league
as Priam's kinsman with our Phrygian arms:
ill-starred, to heed not what the virgin raved!

When these I saw close-gathered for the fight,
I thus addressed them: “Warriors, vainly brave,
if ye indeed desire to follow one
who dares the uttermost brave men may do,
our evil plight ye see: the gods are fled
from every altar and protecting fire,
which were the kingdom's stay. Ye offer aid
unto your country's ashes. Let us fight
unto the death! To arms, my men, to arms!
The single hope and stay of desperate men
is their despair.” Thus did I rouse their souls.
Then like the ravening wolves, some night of cloud,
when cruel hunger in an empty maw
drives them forth furious, and their whelps behind
wait famine-throated; so through foemen's steel
we flew to surest death, and kept our way
straight through the midmost town . The wings of night
brooded above us in vast vault of shade.
But who the bloodshed of that night can tell?
What tongue its deaths shall number, or what eyes
find meed of tears to equal all its woe?
The ancient City fell, whose throne had stood
age after age. Along her streets were strewn
the unresisting dead; at household shrines
and by the temples of the gods they lay.
Yet not alone was Teucrian blood required:
oft out of vanquished hearts fresh valor flamed,
and the Greek victor fell. Anguish and woe
were everywhere; pale terrors ranged abroad,
and multitudinous death met every eye.

Androgeos, followed by a thronging band
of Greeks, first met us on our desperate way;
but heedless, and confounding friend with foe,
thus, all unchallenged, hailed us as his own :
“Haste, heroes! Are ye laggards at this hour?
Others bear off the captives and the spoil
of burning Troy. Just from the galleys ye?”
He spoke; but straightway, when no safe reply
returned, he knew himself entrapped, and fallen
into a foeman's snare; struck dumb was he
and stopped both word and motion; as one steps,
when blindly treading a thick path of thorns,
upon a snake, and sick with fear would flee
that lifted wrath and swollen gorge of green:
so trembling did Androgeos backward fall.
At them we flew and closed them round with war;
and since they could not know the ground, and fear
had whelmed them quite, we swiftly laid them low.
Thus Fortune on our first achievement smiled;
and, flushed with victory, Cormbus cried:
“Come, friends, and follow Fortune's finger, where
she beckons us what path deliverance lies.
Change we our shields, and these Greek emblems wear.
'Twixt guile and valor who will nicely weigh
When foes are met? These dead shall find us arms.”
With this, he dons Androgeos' crested helm
and beauteous, blazoned shield; and to his side
girds on a Grecian blade. Young Rhipeus next,
with Dymas and the other soldiery,
repeat the deed, exulting, and array
their valor in fresh trophies from the slain.
Now intermingled with our foes we moved,
and alien emblems wore; the long, black night
brought many a grapple, and a host of Greeks
down to the dark we hurled. Some fled away,
seeking their safe ships and the friendly shore.
Some cowards foul went clambering back again
to that vast horse and hid them in its maw.