Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- Such fixed resolve he uttered o'er and o'er,
- and would not yield, though with my tears did join
- my spouse Creusa, fair Ascanius,
- and our whole house, imploring the gray sire
- not with himself to ruin all, nor add
- yet heavier burdens to our crushing doom.
- He still cried, “No!” and clung to where he sat
- and to the same dread purpose. I once more
- back to the fight would speed. For death alone
- I made my wretched prayer. What space was left
- for wisdom now? What chance or hope was given?
- “Didst thou, dear father, dream that I could fly
- sundered from thee? Did such an infamy
- fall from a father's lips? If Heaven's decree
- will of this mighty nation not let live
- a single soul, if thine own purpose be
- to cast thyself and thy posterity
- into thy country's grave, behold, the door
- is open to thy death! Lo, Pyrrhus comes
- red-handed from King Priam! He has slain
- a son before a father's eyes, and spilt
- a father's blood upon his own hearthstone.
- Was it for this, O heavenly mother mine,
- that thou hast brought me safe through sword and fire?
- that I might see these altars desecrate
- by their worst foes? that I might look upon
- my sire, my wife, and sweet Ascanius
- dead at my feet in one another's blood?
- To arms, my men, to arms! The hour of death
- now beckons to the vanquished. Let me go
- whither the Greeks are gathered; let me stand
- where oft revives the flagging stroke of war:
- Not all of us die unavenged this day!”
- I clasped my sword-belt round me once again,
- fitted my left arm to my shield, and turned
- to fly the house; but at the threshold clung
- Creusa to my knees, and lifted up
- Iulus to his father's arms. “If thou
- wouldst rush on death,” she cried, “O, suffer us
- to share thy perils with thee to the end.
- But if this day's work bid thee trust a sword,
- defend thy hearthstone first. Who else shall guard
- thy babe Iulus, or thy reverend sire?
- Or me, thy wife that was—what help have I?”
- So rang the roof-top with her piteous cries:
- but lo! a portent wonderful to see
- on sudden rose; for while his parents' grief
- held the boy close in arm and full in view,
- there seemed upon Iulus' head to glow
- a flickering peak of fire; the tongue of flame
- innocuous o'er his clustering tresses played,
- and hovered round his brows. We, horror-struck,
- grasped at his burning hair, and sprinkled him,
- to quench that holy and auspicious fire.
- then sire Anchises with exultant eyes
- looked heavenward, and lifted to the stars
- his voice and outstretched hands. “Almighty Jove,
- if aught of prayer may move thee, let thy grace
- now visit us! O, hear this holy vow!
- And if for service at thine altars done,
- we aught can claim, O Father, lend us aid,
- and ratify the omen thou hast given!”