Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- 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.”
- Thus Latium's cause moved on. Meanwhile the heir
- of great Laomedon, who knew full well
- the whole wide land astir, was vexed and tossed
- in troubled seas of care. This way and that
- his swift thoughts flew, and scanned with like dismay
- each partial peril or the general storm.
- Thus the vexed waters at a fountain's brim,
- smitten by sunshine or the silver sphere
- of a reflected moon, send forth a beam
- of flickering light that leaps from wall to wall,
- or, skyward lifted in ethereal flight,
- glances along some rich-wrought, vaulted dome.
- Now night had fallen, and all weary things,
- all shapes of beast or bird, the wide world o'er,
- lay deep in slumber. So beneath the arch
- of a cold sky Aeneas laid him down
- upon the river-bank, his heart sore tried
- by so much war and sorrow, and gave o'er
- his body to its Iong-delayed repose.
- There, 'twixt the poplars by the gentle stream,
- the River-Father, genius of that place,
- old Tiberinus visibly uprose;
- a cloak of gray-green lawn he wore, his hair
- o'erhung with wreath of reeds. In soothing words
- thus, to console Aeneas' cares, he spoke:
- “Seed of the gods! who bringest to my shore
- thy Trojan city wrested from her foe,
- a stronghold everlasting, Latium's plain
- and fair Laurentum long have looked for thee.
- Here truly is thy home. Turn not away.
- Here the true guardians of thy hearth shall be.
- Fear not the gathering war. The wrath of Heaven
- has stilled its swollen wave. A sign I tell:
- Lest thou shouldst deem this message of thy sleep
- a vain, deluding dream, thou soon shalt find
- in the oak-copses on my margent green,
- a huge sow, with her newly-littered brood
- of thirty young; along the ground she lies,
- snow-white, and round her udders her white young.
- There shall thy city stand, and there thy toil
- shall find untroubled rest. After the lapse
- of thrice ten rolling years, Ascanius
- shall found a city there of noble name,
- White-City, Alba; 't is no dream I sing!
- But I instruct thee now by what wise way
- th' impending wars may bring thee victory:
- receive the counsel, though the words be few:
- within this land are men of Arcady,
- of Pallas' line, who, following in the train
- of King Evander and his men-at-arms,
- built them a city in the hills, and chose
- (honoring Pallas, their Pelasgian sire),
- the name of Pallanteum. They make war
- incessant with the Latins. Therefore call
- this people to thy side and bind them close
- in federated power. My channel fair
- and shaded shore shall guide thee where they dwell,
- and thy strong oarsmen on my waters borne
- shall mount my falling stream. Rise, goddess-born,
- and ere the starlight fade give honor due
- to Juno, and with supplicating vow
- avert her wrath and frown. But unto me
- make offering in thy victorious hour,
- in time to come. I am the copious flood
- which thou beholdest chafing at yon shores
- and parting fruitful fields: cerulean stream
- of Tiber, favored greatly of high Heaven.
- here shall arise my house magnificent,
- a city of all cities chief and crown.”
- So spake the river-god, and sank from view
- down to his deepest cave; then night and sleep
- together from Aeneas fled away.
- He rose, and to the orient beams of morn
- his forehead gave; in both his hollowed palms
- he held the sacred waters of the stream,
- and called aloud: “O ye Laurentian nymphs,
- whence flowing rills be born, and chiefly thou,
- O Father Tiber, worshipped stream divine,
- accept Aeneas, and from peril save!
- If in some hallowed lake or haunted spring
- thy power, pitying my woes, abides,
- or wheresoe'er the blessed place be found
- whence first thy beauty flows, there evermore
- my hands shall bring thee gift and sacrifice.
- O chief and sovereign of Hesperian streams,
- O river-god that hold'st the plenteous horn,
- protect us, and confirm thy words divine!”
- He spoke; then chose twin biremes from the fleet,
- gave them good gear and armed their loyal crews.
- But, lo! a sudden wonder met his eyes:
- white gleaming through the grove, with all her brood
- white like herself, on the green bank the Sow
- stretched prone. The good Aeneas slew her there,
- Great Juno, for a sacrifice to thee,
- himself the priest, and with the sucklings all
- beside shine altar stood. So that whole night
- the god of Tiber calmed his swollen wave,
- ebbing or lingering in silent flow,
- till like some gentle lake or sleeping pool
- his even waters lay, and strove no more
- against the oarsmen's toil. Upon their way
- they speed with joyful sound; the well-oiled wood
- slips through the watery floor; the wondering waves,
- and all the virgin forests wondering,
- behold the warriors in far-shining arms
- their painted galleys up the current drive.
- O'er the long reaches of the winding flood
- their sturdy oars outweary the slow course
- of night and day. Fair groves of changeful green
- arch o'er their passage, and they seem to cleave
- green forests in the tranquil wave below.
- Now had the flaming sun attained his way
- to the mid-sphere of heaven, when they discerned
- walls and a citadel in distant view,
- with houses few and far between; 't was there,
- where sovran Rome to-day has rivalled Heaven,
- Evander's realm its slender strength displayed:
- swiftly they turned their prows and neared the town.
- It chanced th' Arcadian King had come that day
- to honor Hercules, Amphitryon's son,
- and to the powers divine pay worship due
- in groves outside the wall. Beside him stood
- Pallas his son, his noblest men-at-arms,
- and frugal senators, who at the shrines
- burnt incense, while warm blood of victims flowed.
- But when they saw the tall ships in the shade
- of that dark forest plying noiseless oars,
- the sudden sight alarmed, and all the throng
- sprang to its feet and left the feast divine.
- But dauntless Pallas bade them give not o'er
- the sacred festival, and spear in hand
- flew forward to a bit of rising ground,
- and cried from far: “Hail, warriors! what cause
- drives you to lands unknown, and whither bound?
- Your kin, your country? Bring ye peace or war?”
- Father Aeneas then held forth a bough
- of peaceful olive from the lofty ship,
- thus answering : “Men Trojan-born are we,
- foes of the Latins, who have driven us forth
- with insolent assault. We fain would see
- Evander. Pray, deliver this, and say
- that chosen princes of Dardania
- sue for his help in arms.” So wonder fell
- on Pallas, awestruck at such mighty name.
- O, come, whoe'er thou art,” he said, “and speak
- in presence of my father. Enter here,
- guest of our hearth and altar.” He put forth
- his right hand in true welcome, and they stood
- with lingering clasp; then hand in hand advanced
- up the steep woodland, leaving Tiber's wave.
- Aeneas to Evander speaking fair,
- these words essayed: “O best of Grecian-born!
- whom Fortune's power now bids me seek and sue,
- lifting this olive-branch with fillets bound,
- I have not feared thee, though I know thou art
- a Greek, and an Arcadian king, allied
- to the two sons of Atreus. For behold,
- my conscious worth, great oracles from Heaven,
- the kinship of our sires, thy own renown
- spread through the world—all knit my cause with thine,
- all make me glad my fates have so decreed.
- The sire and builder of the Trojan town
- was Dardanus; but he, Electra's child,
- came over sea to Teucria; the sire
- of fair Electra was great Atlas, he
- whose shoulder carries the vast orb of heaven.
- But thy progenitor was Mercury,
- and him conceiving, Maia, that white maid,
- on hoar Cyllene's frosty summit bore.
- But Maia's sire, if aught of truth be told,
- was Atlas also, Atlas who sustains
- the weight of starry skies. Thus both our tribes
- are one divided stem. Secure in this,
- no envoys have I sent, nor tried thy mind
- with artful first approaches, but myself,
- risking my person and my life, have come
- a suppliant here. For both on me and thee
- the house of Daunus hurls insulting war.
- If us they quell, they doubt not to obtain
- lordship of all Hesperia, and subdue
- alike the northern and the southern sea.
- Accept good faith, and give! Behold, our hearts
- quail not in battle; souls of fire are we,
- and warriors proved in many an action brave.”
- Aeneas ceased. The other long had scanned
- the hero's face, his eyes, and wondering viewed
- his form and mien divine; in answer now
- he briefly spoke: “With hospitable heart,
- O bravest warrior of all Trojan-born,
- I know and welcome thee. I well recall
- thy sire Anchises, how he looked and spake.
- For I remember Priam, when he came
- to greet his sister, Queen Hesione,
- in Salamis, and thence pursued his way
- to our cool uplands of Arcadia.
- The bloom of tender boyhood then was mine,
- and with a wide-eyed wonder I did view
- those Teucrian lords, Laomedon's great heir,
- and, towering highest in their goodly throng,
- Anchises, whom my warm young heart desired
- to speak with and to clasp his hand in mine.
- So I approached, and joyful led him home
- to Pheneus' olden wall. He gave me gifts
- the day he bade adieu; a quiver rare
- filled with good Lycian arrows, a rich cloak
- inwove with thread of gold, and bridle reins
- all golden, now to youthful Pallas given.
- Therefore thy plea is granted, and my hand
- here clasps in loyal amity with thine.
- To-morrow at the sunrise thou shalt have
- my tribute for the war, and go thy way
- my glad ally. But now this festival,
- whose solemn rite 't were impious to delay,
- I pray thee celebrate, and bring with thee
- well-omened looks and words. Allies we are!
- Use this our sacred feast as if your own.”
- So saying, he bade his followers renew
- th' abandoned feast and wine; and placed each guest
- on turf-built couch of green, most honoring
- Aeneas by a throne of maple fair
- decked with a lion's pelt and flowing mane.
- Then high-born pages, with the altar's priest,
- bring on the roasted beeves and load the board
- with baskets of fine bread; and wine they bring —
- of Ceres and of Bacchus gift and toil.
- While good Aeneas and his Trojans share
- the long whole ox and meats of sacrifice.