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