Aeneid

Virgil

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

So kindled he Alecto's wrath to flame;
and even as he spoke a shudder thrilled
the warrior's body, and his eyeballs stood
stonily staring at the hydra hair
which hissed and writhed above the grisly head
of the large-looming fiend. With eyes of fire
horribly rolling, she repelled him far,
while he but faltered speechless. She upraised
two coiling snakes out of her tresses, cracked
the lashes of her scourge, and wrathfully,
with raving lips replied: “Look well on me,
gone to decay and dotage of old age!
And mocked with foolish fear while kings contend!
Wilt hearken now! Behold me, hither flown
from where my sister-furies dwell! My hands
bring bloody death and war.” She spoke, and hurled
her firebrand at the hero, thrusting deep
beneath his heart her darkly smouldering flame.
Then horror broke his sleep, and fearful sweat
dripped from his every limb. He shrieked aloud
for arms; and seized the ready arms that lay
around his couch and hall. Then o'er his soul
the lust of battle and wild curse of war
broke forth in angry power, as when the flames
of faggots round the bubbling cauldron sing,
and up the waters leap; the close-kept flood
brims over, streaming, foaming, breaking bound,
and flings thick clouds in air. He, summoning
his chieftains, bade them on Latinus move,
break peace, take arms, and, over Italy
their shields extending, to thrust forth her foe:
himself for Teucrian with Latin joined
was more than match. He called upon the gods
in witness of his vows: while, nothing loth,
Rutulia's warriors rushed into array;
some by his youth and noble beauty moved,
some by his kingly sires and fame in arms.

While Turnus stirred Rutulia's valiant souls,
Alecto on her Stygian pinions sped
to where the Teucrians lay. She scanned the ground
with eager guile, where by the river's marge
fair-browed Iulus with his nets and snares
rode fiercely to the chase. Then o'er his hounds
that hell-born virgin breathed a sudden rage,
and filled each cunning nostril with the scent
of stags, till forth in wild pursuit they flew.
Here all the woe began, and here awoke
in rustic souls the swift-enkindling war.
For a fair stag, tall-antlered, stolen away
even from its mother's milk, had long been kept
by Tyrrhus and his sons—the shepherd he
of all the royal flocks, and forester
of a wide region round. With fondest care
their sister Silvia entwined its horns
with soft, fresh garlands, tamed it to run close,
and combed the creature, or would bring to bathe
at a clear, crystal spring. It knew the hands
of all its gentle masters, and would feed
from their own dish; or wandering through the wood,
come back unguided to their friendly door,
though deep the evening shade. Iulus' dogs
now roused this wanderer in their ravening chase,
as, drifted down-stream far from home it lay,
on a green bank a-cooling. From bent bow
Ascanius, eager for a hunter's praise,
let go his shaft; nor did Alecto fail
his aim to guide: but, whistling through the air,
the light-winged reed pierced deep in flank and side.
Swift to its cover fled the wounded thing,
and crept loud-moaning to its wonted stall,
where, like a blood-stained suppliant, it seemed
to fill that shepherd's house with plaintive prayer.
Then Silvia the sister, smiting oft
on breast and arm, made cry for help, and called
the sturdy rustics forth in gathering throng.
These now (for in the silent forest couched
the cruel Fury) swift to battle flew.
One brandished a charred stake, another swung
a knotted cudgel, as rude anger shapes
its weapon of whate'er the searching eye
first haps to fall on. Tyrrhus roused his clans,
just when by chance he split with blows of wedge
an oak in four; and, panting giant breath,
shouldered his woodman's axe. Alecto then,
prompt to the stroke of mischief, soared aloft
from where she spying sate, to the steep roof
of a tall byre, and from its peak of straw
blew a wild signal on a shepherd's horn,
outflinging her infernal note so far
that all the forest shuddered, and the grove
throbbed to its deepest glen. Cold Trivia's lake
from end to end gave ear, and every wave
of the white stream of Nar, the lonely pools
of still Velinus heard: while at the sound
pale mothers to their breasts their children drew.
Swift to the signal of the dreadful horn,
snatching their weapons rude, the freeborn swains
assembled for the fray; the Trojan bands
poured from their bivouac with instant aid
for young Ascanius. In array of war
both stand confronting. Not mere rustic brawl
with charred oak-staff and cudgel is the fight,
but with the two-edged steel; the naked swords
wave like dark-bladed harvest-field, while far
the brazen arms flash in the smiting sun,
and skyward fling their beam: so some wide sea,
at first but whitened in the rising wind,
swells its slow-rolling mass and ever higher
its billows rears, until the utmost deep
lifts in one surge to heaven. The first to fall
was Almo, eldest-born of Tyrrhus' sons,
whom, striding in the van, a loud-winged shaft
laid low in death; deep in his throat it clung,
and silenced with his blood the dying cry
of his frail life. Around him fell the forms
of many a brave and strong; among them died
gray-haired Galaesus pleading for a truce:
righteous he was, and of Ausonian fields
a prosperous master; five full flocks had he
of bleating sheep, and from his pastures came
five herds of cattle home; his busy churls
turned with a hundred ploughs his fruitful glebe.

While o'er the battle-field thus doubtful swung
the scales of war, the Fury (to her task
now equal proven) having dyed the day
a deep-ensanguined hue, and opened fight
with death and slaughter, made no tarrying
within Hesperia, but skyward soared,
and, Ioud in triumph, insolently thus
to Juno called: “See, at thy will, their strife
full-blown to war and woe! Could even thyself
command them now to truce and amity?
But I, that with Ausonia's blood befoul
their Trojan hands, yet more can do, if thou
shift not thy purpose. For with dire alarms
I will awake the bordering states to war
enkindling in their souls the frenzied lust
the war-god breathes; till from th' horizon round
the reinforcement pours—I scattering seeds
of carnage through the land.” In answer spoke
juno: “Enough of artifice and fear!
Thy provocation works. Now have they joined
in close and deadly combat, and warm blood
those sudden-leaping swords incarnadines,
which chance put in their hands. Such nuptial joys,
such feast of wedlock, let the famous son
of Venus with the King Latinus share!
But yon Olympian Sire and King no more
permits thee freely in our skies to roam.
Go, quit the field! Myself will take control
of hazards and of labors yet to be.”
Thus Saturn's daughter spoke. Alecto then,
unfolding far her hissing, viperous wings,
turned toward her Stygian home, and took farewell
of upper air. Deep in Italia lies
a region mountain-girded, widely famed,
and known in olden songs from land to land:
the valley of Amsanctus; deep, dark shades
enclose it between forest-walls, whereby
through thunderous stony channel serpentines
a roaring fall. Here in a monstrous cave
are breathing-holes of hell, a vast abyss
where Acheron opes wide its noisome jaws:
in this Alecto plunged, concealing so
her execrable godhead, while the air
of earth and heaven felt the curse removed.

Forthwith the sovereign hands of Juno haste
to consummate the war. The shepherds bear
back from the field of battle to the town
the bodies of the slain: young Almo's corse
and gray Galaesus' bleeding head. They call
just gods in heaven to Iook upon their wrong,
and bid Latinus see it. Turnus comes,
and, while the angry mob surveys the slain,
adds fury to the hour. “Shall the land
have Trojan lords? Shall Phrygian marriages
debase our ancient, royal blood—and I
be spurned upon the threshold?” Then drew near
the men whose frenzied women-folk had held
bacchantic orgies in the pathless grove,
awed by Amata's name: these, gathering,
sued loud for war. Yea, all defied the signs
and venerable omens; all withstood
divine decrees, and clamored for revenge,
prompted by evil powers. They besieged
the house of King Latinus, shouting-loud
with emulous rage. But like a sea-girt rock
unmoved he stood; like sea-girt rock when surge
of waters o'er it sweeps, or howling waves
surround; it keeps a ponderous front of power,
though foaming cliffs around it vainly roar;
from its firm base the broken sea-weeds fall.
But when authority no whit could change
their counsels blind, and each event fulfilled
dread Juno's will, then with complaining prayer
the aged sire cried loud upon his gods
and on th' unheeding air: “Alas,” said he,
“My doom is shipwreck, and the tempest bears
my bark away! O wretches, your own blood
shall pay the forfeit for your impious crime.
O Turnus! O abominable deed!
Avenging woes pursue thee; to deaf gods
thy late and unavailing prayer shall rise.
Now was my time to rest. But as I come
close to my journey's end, thou spoilest me
of comfort in my death.” With this the King
fled to his house and ceased his realm to guide.

A sacred custom the Hesperian land
of Latium knew, by all the Alban hills
honored unbroken, which wide-ruling Rome
keeps to this day, when to new stroke she stirs
the might of Mars; if on the Danube's wave
resolved to fling the mournful doom of war,
or on the Caspian folk or Arabs wild;
or chase the morning far as India's verge,
ind from the Parthian despot wrest away
our banners Iost. Twin Gates of War there be,
of fearful name, to Mars' fierce godhead vowed:
a hundred brass bars shut them, and the strength
of uncorrupting steel; in sleepless watch
Janus the threshold keeps. 'T is here, what time
the senate's voice is war, the consul grave
in Gabine cincture and Quirinal shift
himself the griding hinges backward moves,
and bids the Romans arm; obedient then
the legionary host makes Ioud acclaim,
and hoarse consent the brazen trumpets blow.
Thus King Latinus on the sons of Troy
was urged to open war, and backward roll
those gates of sorrow: but the aged king
recoiled, refused the loathsome task, and fled
to solitary shades. Then from the skies
the Queen of gods stooped down, and her sole hand
the lingering portal moved; Saturnia
swung on their hinges the barred gates of war.
ausonia from its old tranquillity
bursts forth in flame. Foot-soldiers through the field
run to and fro; and mounted on tall steeds
the cavaliers in clouds of dust whirl by.
All arm in haste. Some oil the glittering shield
or javelin bright, or on the whetstone wear
good axes to an edge, while joyful bands
uplift the standards or the trumpets blow.
Five mighty cities to their anvils bring
new-tempered arms: Atina—martial name —
proud Tibur, Ardea, Crustumium,
and river-walled Antemnae, crowned with towers
strong hollow helmets on their brows they draw
and weave them willow-shields; or melt and mould
corselets of brass or shining silver greaves;
none now for pruning-hook or sacred plough
have love or care: but old, ancestral swords
for hardier tempering to the smith they bring.
Now peals the clarion; through the legions pass
the watchwords: the impatient yeoman takes
his helmet from the idle roof-tree hung;
while to his chariot the master yokes
the mettled war-horse, dons a shining shield
and golden mail, and buckles his good sword.

Virgins of Helicon, renew my song!
Instruct me what proud kings to battle flown
with following legions throng the serried plain.
Tell me what heroes and illustrious arms
Italia's bosom in her dawning day
benignant bore: for your celestial minds,
have memory of the past, but faint and low
steals glory's whisper on a mortal ear.

Foremost in fight, from shores Etrurian came
Mezentius, scornful rebel against Heaven,
his people all in arms; and at his side
Lausus his heir (no fairer youth than he,
save Turnus of Laurentum), Lausus, skilled
o break proud horses and wild beasts to quell;
who from Agylla's citadel in vain
led forth his thousand warriors: worthy he
to serve a nobler sire, and happier far
he had ne'er been born Mezentius' son.

Next after these, conspicuous o'er the plain,
with palm-crowned chariot and victorious steeds,
rode forth well-moulded Aventinus, sprung
from shapely Hercules; upon the shield
his blazon was a hundred snakes, and showed
his father's hydra-cincture serpentine;
him deep in Aventine's most secret grove
the priestess Rhea bore—a mortal maid
clasped in a god's embrace the wondrous day
when, flushed with conquest of huge Geryon,
the lord of Tiryns to Laurentum drove,
and washed in Tiber's wave th' Iberian kine.
His followers brandished pointed pikes and staves,
or smooth Sabellian bodkin tipped with steel;
but he, afoot, swung round him as he strode
a monstrous lion-skin, its bristling mane
and white teeth crowning his ferocious brow:
for garbed as Hercules he sought his King.

Then came twin brethren, leaving Tibur's keep
(named from Tiburtus, brother of them twain)
Catillus and impetuous Coras, youth
of Argive seed, who foremost in the van
pressed ever where the foemen densest throng:
as when two centaurs, children of the cloud,
from mountain-tops descend in swift career,
the snows of Homole and Othrys leaving,
while crashing thickets in their pathway fall.

Nor was Praeneste's founder absent there,
by Vulcan sired, among the herds and hinds,
and on a hearth-stone found (so runs the tale
each pious age repeats) King Caeculus
with rustic legions gathered from afar:
from steep Praeneste and the Gabian vale
to Juno dear, from Anio's cold stream,
from upland Hernic rocks and foaming rills,
from rich Anagnia's pastures, and the plain
whence Amasenus pours his worshipped wave.
Not all of armor boast, and seldom sound
the chariot and shield; but out of slings
they hurl blue balls of lead, or in one hand
a brace of javelins bear; pulled o'er their brows
are hoods of tawny wolf-skin; as they march
the left foot leaves a barefoot track behind,
a rawhide sandal on the right they wear.

Messapus came, steed-tamer, Neptune's son,
by sword and fire invincible: this day,
though mild his people and unschooled in war,
he calls them to embattled lines, and draws
no lingering sword. Fescennia musters there,
Aequi Falisci, and what clans possess
Soracte's heights, Flavinia's fruitful farms,
Ciminian lake and mountain, and the groves
about Capena. Rank on rank they move,
loud singing of their chieftain's praise: as when
a flock of snowy swans through clouded air
return from feeding, and make tuneful cry
from their long throats, while Asia's rivers hear,
and lone Cayster's startled moorland rings:
for hardly could the listening ear discern
the war-cry of a mail-clad host; the sound
was like shrill-calling birds, when home from sea
their soaring flock moves shoreward like a cloud.

Then, one of far-descended Sabine name,
Clausus advanced, the captain of a host,
and in himself an equal host he seemed;
from his proud loins the high-born Claudian stem
through Latium multiplies, since Roman power
with Sabine first was wed. A cohort came
from Amiternum and the olden wall
of Cures, called Quirites even then;
Eretum answered and Mutusca's hill
with olives clad, Velinus' flowery field,
nomentum's fortress, the grim precipice
of Tetrica, Severus' upland fair,
Casperia, Foruli, Himella's waves,
Tiber and Fabaris, and wintry streams
of Nursia; to the same proud muster sped
Tuscan with Latin tribes, and loyal towns
beside whose walls ill-omened Allia flows.
As numerous they moved as rolling waves
that stir smooth Libyan seas, when in cold floods
sinks grim Orion's star; or like the throng
of clustering wheat-tops in the summer sun,
near Hermus or on Lycia's yellowing plain:
shields clashed; their strong tramp smote the trembling ground.

Now Agamemnon's kinsman, cruel foe
to the mere name of Troy, Halaesus, yokes
the horses of his car and summons forth
a thousand savage clans at Turnus' call :
rude men whose mattocks to the Massic hills
bring Bacchus' bounty, or by graybeard sires
sent from Auruncan upland and the mead
of Sidicinum; out of Cales came
its simple folk; and dwellers by the stream
of many-shoaled Volturnus, close-allied
with bold Saticulan or Oscan swains.
Their arms are tapered javelins, which they wear
bound by a coiling thong; a shield conceals
the left side, and they fight with crooked swords.

Nor shalt thou, Oebalus, depart unsung,
whom minstrels say the nymph Sebethis bore
to Telon, who in Capri was a king
when old and gray; but that disdaining son
quitted so small a seat, and conquering sway
among Sarrastian folk and those wide plains
watered by Sarnus' wave, became a king
over Celenna, Rufrae, Batulum,
and where among her apple-orchards rise
Abella's walls. All these, as Teutons use,
hurl a light javelin; for helm they wear
stripped cork-tree bark; the crescent of their shields
is gleaming bronze, and gleaming bronze the sword.

Next Ufens, mountain-bred, from Nersae came
to join the war; of goodly fame was he
for prosperous arms: his Aequian people show
no gentle mien, but scour the woods for prey,
or, ever-armed, across the stubborn glebe
compel the plough; though their chief pride and joy
are rapine, violence, and plundered store.

Next after these, his brows and helmet bound
with noble olive, from Marruvium came
a priest, brave Umbro, ordered to the field
by King Archippus: o'er the viper's brood,
and venomed river-serpents he had power
to scatter slumber with wide-waving hands
and wizard-songs. His potent arts could soothe
their coiling rage and heal the mortal sting:
but 'gainst a Trojan sword no drug had he,
nor could his drowsy spells his flesh repair,
nor gathered simples from the Marsic hills.
Thee soon in wailing woods Anguitia mourned,
thee, Fucinus, the lake of crystal wave,
thee, many a mountain-tarn!

Next, Virbius in martial beauty rode,
son of Hippolytus, whose mother, proud
Aricia, sent him in his flower of fame
out of Egeria's hills and cloudy groves
where lies Diana's gracious, gifted fane.
For legend whispers that Hippolytus,
by step-dame's plot undone, his life-blood gave
to sate his vengeful father, and was rent
in sunder by wild horses; but the grave
to air of heaven and prospect of the stars
restored him;—for Diana's love and care
poured out upon him Paeon's healing balm.
But Jove, almighty Sire, brooked not to see
a mortal out of death and dark reclimb
to light of life, and with a thunderbolt
hurled to the Stygian river Phoebus' son,
who dared such good elixir to compound.
But pitying Trivia hid Hippolytus
in her most secret cave, and gave in ward
to the wise nymph Egeria in her grove;
where he lived on inglorious and alone,
ranging the woods of Italy, and bore
the name of Virbius. 'T is for this cause
the hallowed woods to Trivia's temple vowed
forbid loud-footed horses, such as spilled
stripling and chariot on the fatal shore,
scared by the monsters peering from the sea.
Yet did the son o'er that tumultuous plain
his battle-chariot guide and plunging team.

Lo, Turnus strides conspicuous in the van,
full armed, of mighty frame, his lordly head
high o'er his peers emerging! His tall helm
with flowing triple crest for ensign bears
Chimaera, whose terrific lips outpour
volcanic fires; where'er the menace moves
of her infernal flames and wrathful frown,
there wildest flows the purple flood of war.
On his smooth shield deep graven in the gold
is horned Io—wondrous the device!—
a shaggy heifer-shape the maiden shows;
Argus is watching her, while Inachus
pours forth his river from the pictured urn.
A storm of tramping troops, to Turnus sworn,
throngs all the widespread plain with serried shields:
warriors of Argos, and Auruncan bands,
Sicani, Rutuli, Sacranian hosts,
Labicum's painted shields; all who till
thy woodland vales, O Tiber! or the shore
Numicius hallows; all whose ploughs upturn
Rutulia's hills, or that Circaean range
where Jove of Anxur guards, and forests green
make fair Feronia glad; where lie the fens
of Satura, and Ufens' icy wave
through lowland valleys seeks his seaward way.

Last came Camilla, of the Volscians bred,
leading her mail-clad, radiant chivalry;
a warrior-virgin, of Minerva's craft
of web and distaff, fit for woman's toil,
no follower she; but bared her virgin breast
to meet the brunt of battle, and her speed
left even the winds behind; for she would skim
an untouched harvest ere the sickle fell,
nor graze the quivering wheat-tops as she ran;
or o'er the mid-sea billows' swollen surge
so swiftly race, she wet not in the wave
her flying feet. For sight of her the youth
from field and fortress sped, and matrons grave
stood wondering as she passed, well-pleased to see
her royal scarf in many a purple fold
float off her shining shoulder, her dark hair
in golden clasp caught fast, and how she bore
for arms a quiver of the Lycian mode,
and shepherd's shaft of myrtle tipped with steel.

When Turnus from Laurentum's bastion proud
published the war, and roused the dreadful note
of the harsh trumpet's song; when on swift steeds
the lash he laid and clashed his sounding arms;
then woke each warrior soul; all Latium stirred
with tumult and alarm; and martial rage
enkindled youth's hot blood. The chieftains proud,
Messapus, Ufens, and that foe of Heaven,
Mezentius, compel from far and wide
their loyal hosts, and strip the field and farm
of husbandmen. To seek auxiliar arms
they send to glorious Diomed's domain
the herald Venulus, and bid him cry:
“Troy is to Latium come; Aeneas' fleet
has come to land. He brings his vanquished gods,
and gives himself to be our destined King.
Cities not few accept him, and his name
through Latium waxes large. But what the foe
by such attempt intends, what victory
is his presumptuous hope, if Fortune smile,
Aetolia's lord will not less wisely fear
than royal Turnus or our Latin King.”