Aeneid

Virgil

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

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.