Aeneid

Virgil

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

So spake the prophet with benignant voice.
Then gifts he bade be brought of heavy gold
and graven ivory, which to our ships
he bade us bear; each bark was Ioaded full
with messy silver and Dodona's pride
of brazen cauldrons; a cuirass he gave
of linked gold enwrought and triple chain;
a noble helmet, too, with flaming crest
and lofty cone, th' accoutrement erewhile
of Neoptolemus. My father too
had fit gifts from the King; whose bounty then
gave steeds and riders; and new gear was sent
to every sea-worn ship, while he supplied
seafarers, kit to all my loyal crews.

Anchises bade us speedily set sail,
nor lose a wind so fair; and answering him,
Apollo's priest made reverent adieu:
“Anchises, honored by the love sublime
of Venus, self and twice in safety borne
from falling Troy, chief care of kindly Heaven,
th' Ausonian shore is thine. Sail thitherward!
For thou art pre-ordained to travel far
o'er yonder seas; far in the distance lies
that region of Ausonia, Phoebus' voice
to thee made promise of. Onward, I say,
o blest in the exceeding loyal love
of thy dear son! Why keep thee longer now?
Why should my words yon gathering winds detain?”
Likewise Andromache in mournful guise
took last farewell, bringing embroidered robes
of golden woof; a princely Phrygian cloak
she gave Ascanius, vying with the King
in gifts of honor; and threw o'er the boy
the labors of her loom, with words like these:
“Accept these gifts, sweet youth, memorials
of me and my poor handicraft, to prove
th' undying friendship of Andromache,
once Hector's wife. Take these last offerings
of those who are thy kin—O thou that art
of my Astyanax in all this world
the only image! His thy lovely eyes!
Thy hands, thy lips, are even what he bore,
and like thy own his youthful bloom would be.”
Thus I made answer, turning to depart
with rising tears: “Live on, and be ye blessed,
whose greatness is accomplished! As for me,
from change to change Fate summons, and I go;
but ye have won repose. No leagues of sea
await your cleaving keel. Not yours the quest
of fading Italy's delusive shore.
Here a new Xanthus and a second Troy
your labor fashioned and your eyes may see—
more blest, I trust, less tempting to our foes!
If e'er on Tiber and its bordering vales
I safely enter, and these eyes behold
our destined walls, then in fraternal bond
let our two nations live, whose mutual boast
is one Dardanian blood, one common story.
Epirus with Hesperia shall be
one Troy in heart and soul. But this remains
for our sons' sons the happy task and care.”

Forth o'er the seas we sped and kept our course
nigh the Ceraunian headland, where begins
the short sea-passage unto Italy.
Soon sank the sun, while down the shadowed hills
stole deeper gloom; then making shore, we flung
our bodies on a dry, sea-bordering sand,
couched on earth's welcome breast; the oars were ranged
in order due; the tides of slumber dark
o'erflowed our lives. But scarce the chariot
of Night, on wings of swift, obedient Hours,
had touched the middle sky, when wakeful sprang
good Palinurus from his pillowed stone:
with hand at ear he caught each airy gust
and questioned of the winds; the gliding stars
he called by name, as onward they advanced
through the still heaven; Arcturus he beheld,
the Hyades, rain-bringers, the twin Bears,
and vast Orion girt in golden arms.
He blew a trumpet from his ship; our camp
stirred to the signal for embarking; soon
we rode the seas once more with swelling sail.