Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- The hearts of the Rutulian host stood still
- in panic, and Messapus terrified
- his trembling horses reined; the sacred stream
- of Father Tiber, harshly murmuring,
- held back his flood and checked his seaward way.
- But Turnus' courage failed not; he alone
- his followers roused, and with reproachful words
- alone spoke forth: “These signs and prodigies
- threaten the Trojan only. Jove himself
- has stripped them of their wonted strength: no more
- can they abide our deadly sword and fire.
- The Trojan path to sea is shut. What hope
- of flight is left them now? The half their cause
- is fallen. The possession of this land
- is ours already; thousands of sharp swords
- Italia's nations bring. Small fear have I
- of Phrygia's boasted omens. What to me
- their oracles from heaven? The will of Fate
- and Venus have achieved their uttermost
- in casting on Ausonia's fruitful shore
- yon sons of Troy. I too have destinies:
- and mine, good match for theirs, with this true blade
- will spill the blood of all the baneful brood,
- in vengeance for my stolen wife. Such wrongs
- move not on Atreus' sons alone, nor rouse
- only Mycenae to a righteous war.
- Say you, ‘Troy falls but once?’ One crime, say I,
- should have contented them; and now their souls
- should little less than loathe all womankind.
- These are the sort of soldiers that be brave
- behind entrenchment, where the moated walls
- may stem the foe and make a little room
- betwixt themselves and death. Did they not see
- how Troy's vast bulwark built by Neptune's hand
- crumbled in flame? Forward, my chosen brave!
- Who follows me to cleave his deadly way
- through yonder battlement, and leap like storm
- upon its craven guard? I have no need
- of arms from Vulcan's smithy; nor of ships
- a thousand strong against our Teucrian foes,
- though all Etruria's league enlarge their power.
- Let them not fear dark nights, nor coward theft
- of Pallas' shrine, nor murdered sentinels
- on their acropolis. We shall not hide
- in blinding belly of a horse. But I
- in public eye and open day intend
- to compass their weak wall with siege and fire.
- I'll prove them we be no Pelasgic band,
- no Danaan warriors, such as Hector's arm
- ten years withstood. But look! this day hath spent
- its better part. In what remains, rejoice
- in noble deeds well done; let weary flesh
- have rest and food. My warriors, husband well
- your strength against to-morrow's hopeful war.”
- Meanwhile to block their gates with wakeful guard
- is made Messapus' work, and to gird round
- their camp with watchfires. Then a chosen band,
- twice seven Rutulian chieftains, man the walls
- with soldiery; each leads a hundred men
- crested with crimson, armed with glittering gold.
- Some post to separate sentries, and prepare
- alternate vigil; others, couched on grass,
- laugh round the wine and lift the brazen bowls.
- The camp-fires cheerly burn; the jovial guard
- spend the long, sleepless night in sport and game.