Aeneid

Virgil

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

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.