Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- Such worship o'er, all take the homeward way
- back to the town. The hospitable King,
- though bowed with weight of years, kept at his side
- Aeneas and his son, and as they fared,
- with various discourse beguiled the way.
- Aeneas scanned with quick-admiring eyes
- the region wide, and lingered with delight
- now here, now there, inquiring eagerly
- of each proud monument of heroes gone.
- Then King Evander, he who builded first
- On Palatine, spoke thus: “These groves erewhile
- their native nymphs and fauns enjoyed, with men
- from trees engendered and stout heart of oak.
- Nor laws nor arts they knew; nor how to tame
- burls to the yoke, nor fill great barns with store
- and hoard the gathered grain; but rudely fared
- on wild fruits and such food as hunters find.
- Then Saturn from Olympian realms came down,
- in flight from Jove's dread arms, his sceptre lost,
- and he an exiled King. That savage race
- he gathered from the mountain slopes; and gave
- wise laws and statutes; so that latent land
- was Latium, ‘hid land’, where he hid so long.
- The golden centuries by legends told
- were under that good King, whose equal sway
- untroubled peace to all his peoples gave.
- But after slow decline arrived an age
- degenerate and of a darker hue,
- prone to insensate war and greed of gain.
- Then came Sicanian and Ausonian tribes,
- and oft the land of Saturn lost its name.
- New chieftains rose, and Thybris, giant King
- and violent, from whom th' Italians named
- the flooding Tiber, which was called no more
- the Albula, its true and ancient style.
- Myself, in exile from my fatherland
- sailing uncharted seas, was guided here
- by all-disposing Chance and iron laws
- of Destiny. With prophecy severe
- Carmentis, my nymph-mother, thrust me on,
- warned by Apollo's word.” He scarce had said,
- when near their path he showed an altar fair
- and the Carmental gate, where Romans see
- memorial of Carmentis, nymph divine,
- the prophetess of fate, who first foretold
- what honors on Aeneas' sons should fall
- and lordly Pallanteum, where they dwell.
- Next the vast grove was seen, where Romulus
- ordained inviolable sanctuary;
- then the Lupercal under its cold crag,
- Wolf-hill, where old Arcadians revered
- their wolf-god, the Lycaean Pan. Here too
- the grove of Argiletum, sacred name,
- where good Evander told the crime and death
- of Argus, his false guest. From this they climbed
- the steep Tarpeian hill, the Capitol,
- all gold to-day, but then a tangled wild
- of thorny woodland. Even then the place
- woke in the rustics a religious awe,
- and bade them fear and tremble at the view
- of that dread rock and grove. “This leafy wood,
- which crowns the hill-top, is the favored seat
- of some great god,” said he, “but of his name
- we know not surely. The Arcadians say
- jove's dread right hand here visibly appears
- to shake his aegis in the darkening storm,
- the clouds compelling. Yonder rise in view
- two strongholds with dismantled walls, which now
- are but a memory of great heroes gone:
- one father Janus built, and Saturn one;
- their names, Saturnia and Janiculum.”
- 'Mid such good parley to the house they came
- of King Evander, unadorned and plain,
- whence herds of browsing cattle could be seen
- ranging the Forum, and loud-bellowing
- in proud Carinae. As they entered there,
- “Behold,” said he, “the threshold that received
- Alcides in his triumph! This abode
- he made his own. Dare, O illustrious guest,
- to scorn the pomp of power. Shape thy soul
- to be a god's fit follower. Enter here,
- and free from pride our frugal welcome share.”
- So saying, 'neath his roof-tree scant and low
- he led the great Aeneas, offering him
- a couch of leaves with Libyan bear-skin spread.
- Now night drew near, enfolding the wide world
- in shadowy wings. But Venus, sore disturbed,
- vexed not unwisely her maternal breast,
- fearing Laurentum's menace and wild stir
- of obstinate revolt, and made her plea
- to Vulcan in their nuptial bower of gold,
- outbreathing in the music of her words
- celestial love: “When warring Argive kings
- brought ruin on Troy's sacred citadel
- and ramparts soon to sink in hostile flames,
- I asked not thee to help that hopeless woe,
- nor craved thy craft and power. For, dearest lord,
- I would not tax in vain shine arduous toil,
- though much to Priam's children I was bound,
- and oft to see Aeneas burdened sore
- I could but weep. But now by will of Jove
- he has found foothold in Rutulian lands.
- Therefore I come at last with lowly suit
- before a godhead I adore, and pray
- for gift of arms,—a mother for her son.
- Thou wert not unrelenting to the tears
- of Nereus' daughter or Tithonus' bride.
- Behold what tribes conspire, what cities strong
- behind barred gates now make the falchion keen
- to ruin and blot out both me and mine!”
- So spake the goddess, as her arms of snow
- around her hesitating spouse she threw
- in tender, close embrace. He suddenly
- knew the familiar fire, and o'er his frame
- its wonted ardor unresisted ran,
- swift as the glittering shaft of thunder cleaves
- the darkened air and on from cloud to cloud
- the rift of lightning runs. She, joyful wife;
- felt what her beauty and her guile could do;
- as, thralled by love unquenchable, her spouse
- thus answered fair: “Why wilt thou labor so
- with far-fetched pleas? my goddess, hast thou lost
- thy faith in me? Had such a prayer been shine,
- I could have armed the Teucrians. Neither Jove
- nor Destiny had grudged ten added years
- of life to Troy and Priam. If to-day
- thou hast a war in hand, and if thy heart
- determine so, I willingly engage
- to lend thee all my cunning; whatsoever
- molten alloy or welded iron can,
- whate'er my roaring forge and flames achieve,
- I offer thee. No more in anxious prayer
- distrust thy beauty's power.” So saying, he gave
- embrace of mutual desire, and found
- deep, peaceful sleep, on her fond heart reclined.