Aeneid

Virgil

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

  1. When Asia's power and Priam's race and throne,
  2. though guiltless, were cast down by Heaven's decree,
  3. when Ilium proud had fallen, and Neptune's Troy
  4. in smouldering ash lay level with the ground,
  5. to wandering exile then and regions wild
  6. the gods by many an augury and sign
  7. compelled us forth. We fashioned us a fleet
  8. within Antander's haven, in the shade
  9. of Phrygian Ida's peak (though knowing not
  10. whither our fate would drive, or where afford
  11. a resting-place at last), and my small band
  12. of warriors I arrayed. As soon as smiled
  13. the light of summer's prime, my reverend sire
  14. Anchises bade us on the winds of Fate
  15. to spread all sail. Through tears I saw recede
  16. my native shore, the haven and the plains
  17. where once was Troy. An exile on the seas,
  18. with son and followers and household shrines,
  19. and Troy's great guardian-gods, I took my way.
  1. There is a far-off land where warriors breed,
  2. where Thracians till the boundless plains, and where
  3. the cruel-eyed Lycurgus once was king.
  4. Troy's old ally it was, its deities
  5. had brotherhood with ours before our fall.
  6. Thither I fared, and on its winding shores
  7. set my first walls, though partial Fate opposed
  8. our entrance there. In memory of my name
  9. I called its people the Aeneadae.
  1. Unto Dione's daughter, and all gods
  2. who blessed our young emprise, due gifts were paid;
  3. and unto the supreme celestial King
  4. I slew a fair white bull beside the sea.
  5. But haply near my place of sacrifice
  6. a mound was seen, and on the summit grew
  7. a copse of corner and a myrtle tree,
  8. with spear-like limbs outbranched on every side.
  9. This I approached, and tried to rend away
  10. from its deep roots that grove of gloomy green,
  11. and dress my altars in its leafy boughs.
  12. But, horrible to tell, a prodigy
  13. smote my astonished eyes: for the first tree,
  14. which from the earth with broken roots I drew,
  15. dripped black with bloody drops, and gave the ground
  16. dark stains of gore. Cold horror shook my frame,
  17. and every vein within me froze for fear.
  18. Once more I tried from yet another stock
  19. the pliant stem to tear, and to explore
  20. the mystery within,—but yet again
  21. the foul bark oozed with clots of blackest gore!
  22. From my deep-shaken soul I made a prayer
  23. to all the woodland nymphs and to divine
  24. Gradivus, patron of the Thracian plain,
  25. to bless this sight, to lift its curse away.
  26. But when at a third sheaf of myrtle spears
  27. I fell upon my knees, and tugged amain
  28. against the adverse ground (I dread to tell!),
  29. a moaning and a wail from that deep grave
  30. burst forth and murmured in my listening ear:
  31. “Why wound me, great Aeneas, in my woe?
  32. O, spare the dead, nor let thy holy hands
  33. do sacrilege and sin! I, Trojan-born,
  34. was kin of thine. This blood is not of trees.
  35. Haste from this murderous shore, this land of greed.
  36. O, I am Polydorus! Haste away!
  37. Here was I pierced; a crop of iron spears
  38. has grown up o'er my breast, and multiplied
  39. to all these deadly javelins, keen and strong.”
  40. Then stood I, burdened with dark doubt and fear
  41. I quailed, my hair rose and my utterance choked.