Virgil — Aeneid · Georgics · Eclogues
Aeneid
Book 1
Arms and the man I sing, who first made way, predestined exile, from the Trojan shore to Italy, the blest Lavinian strand. Smitten of storms he was on land and sea by violence of Heaven, to satisfy stern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war he suffered, seeking at the last to found the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods to safe abode in Latium; whence arose the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords, and from her hills wide-walled, imperial Rome. O Muse, the causes tell! What sacrilege,
or vengeful sorrow, moved the heavenly Queen to thrust on dangers dark and endless toil a man whose largest honor in men's eyes was serving Heaven? Can gods such anger feel? In ages gone an ancient city stood— Carthage, a Tyrian seat, which from afar made front on Italy and on the mouths of Tiber's stream; its wealth and revenues were vast, and ruthless was its quest of war. 'T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved, most cherished this,—not Samos' self so dear. Here were her arms, her chariot; even then
a throne of power o'er nations near and far, if Fate opposed not, 't was her darling hope to 'stablish here; but anxiously she heard that of the Trojan blood there was a breed then rising, which upon the destined day should utterly o'erwhelm her Tyrian towers, a people of wide sway and conquest proud should compass Libya's doom;—such was the web the Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fear of Saturn's daughter, who remembered well what long and unavailing strife she waged for her loved Greeks at Troy. Nor did she fail
to meditate th' occasions of her rage, and cherish deep within her bosom proud its griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made; her scorned and slighted beauty; a whole race rebellious to her godhead; and Jove's smile that beamed on eagle-ravished Ganymede. With all these thoughts infuriate, her power pursued with tempests o'er the boundless main the Trojans, though by Grecian victor spared and fierce Achilles; so she thrust them far from Latium; and they drifted, Heaven-impelled, year after year, o'er many an unknown sea—
O labor vast, to found the Roman line! Below th' horizon the Sicilian isle just sank from view, as for the open sea with heart of hope they sailed, and every ship clove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves. But Juno of her everlasting wound knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain thus darkly mused: “Must I, defeated, fail of what I will, nor turn the Teucrian King from Italy away? Can Fate oppose? Had Pallas power to lay waste in flame the Argive fleet and sink its mariners,
revenging but the sacrilege obscene by Ajax wrought, Oileus' desperate son? She, from the clouds, herself Jove's lightning threw, scattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms. Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire, in whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung. But I, who move among the gods a queen, Jove's sister and his spouse, with one weak tribe make war so long! Who now on Juno calls? What suppliant gifts henceforth her altars crown?” So, in her fevered heart complaining still, unto the storm-cloud land the goddess came,
a region with wild whirlwinds in its womb, Aeolia named, where royal Aeolus in a high-vaulted cavern keeps control o'er warring winds and loud concourse of storms. There closely pent in chains and bastions strong, they, scornful, make the vacant mountain roar, chafing against their bonds. But from a throne of lofty crag, their king with sceptred hand allays their fury and their rage confines. Did he not so, our ocean, earth, and sky were whirled before them through the vast inane. But over-ruling Jove, of this in fear,
hid them in dungeon dark: then o'er them piled huge mountains, and ordained a lawful king to hold them in firm sway, or know what time, with Jove's consent, to loose them o'er the world. To him proud Juno thus made lowly plea: “Thou in whose hands the Father of all gods and Sovereign of mankind confides the power to calm the waters or with winds upturn, great Aeolus! a race with me at war now sails the Tuscan main towards Italy, bringing their Ilium and its vanquished powers. Uprouse thy gales. Strike that proud navy down!
Hurl far and wide, and strew the waves with dead! Twice seven nymphs are mine, of rarest mould; of whom Deiopea, the most fair, I give thee in true wedlock for thine own, to mate thy noble worth; she at thy side shall pass long, happy years, and fruitful bring her beauteous offspring unto thee their sire.” Then Aeolus: “'T is thy sole task, O Queen, to weigh thy wish and will. My fealty thy high behest obeys. This humble throne is of thy gift. Thy smiles for me obtain authority from Jove. Thy grace concedes
my station at your bright Olympian board, and gives me lordship of the darkening storm.” Replying thus, he smote with spear reversed the hollow mountain's wall; then rush the winds through that wide breach in long, embattled line, and sweep tumultuous from land to land: with brooding pinions o'er the waters spread, east wind and south, and boisterous Afric gale upturn the sea; vast billows shoreward roll; the shout of mariners, the creak of cordage, follow the shock; low-hanging clouds conceal from Trojan eyes all sight of heaven and day;
night o'er the ocean broods; from sky to sky the thunders roll, the ceaseless lightnings glare; and all things mean swift death for mortal man. Straightway Aeneas, shuddering with amaze, groaned loud, upraised both holy hands to Heaven, and thus did plead: “O thrice and four times blest, ye whom your sires and whom the walls of Troy looked on in your last hour! O bravest son Greece ever bore, Tydides! O that I had fallen on Ilian fields, and given this life struck down by thy strong hand! where by the spear of great Achilles, fiery Hector fell,
and huge Sarpedon; where the Simois in furious flood engulfed and whirled away so many helms and shields and heroes slain!” While thus he cried to Heaven, a shrieking blast smote full upon the sail. Up surged the waves to strike the very stars; in fragments flew the shattered oars; the helpless vessel veered and gave her broadside to the roaring flood, where watery mountains rose and burst and fell. Now high in air she hangs, then yawning gulfs lay bare the shoals and sands o'er which she drives. Three ships a whirling south wind snatched and flung
on hidden rocks,—altars of sacrifice Italians call them, which lie far from shore a vast ridge in the sea; three ships beside an east wind, blowing landward from the deep, drove on the shallows,—pitiable sight,— and girdled them in walls of drifting sand. That ship, which, with his friend Orontes, bore the Lycian mariners, a great, plunging wave struck straight astern, before Aeneas' eyes. Forward the steersman rolled and o'er the side fell headlong, while three times the circling flood spun the light bark through swift engulfing seas.
Look, how the lonely swimmers breast the wave! And on the waste of waters wide are seen weapons of war, spars, planks, and treasures rare, once Ilium's boast, all mingled with the storm. Now o'er Achates and Ilioneus, now o'er the ship of Abas or Aletes, bursts the tempestuous shock; their loosened seams yawn wide and yield the angry wave its will. Meanwhile how all his smitten ocean moaned, and how the tempest's turbulent assault had vexed the stillness of his deepest cave, great Neptune knew; and with indignant mien
uplifted o'er the sea his sovereign brow. He saw the Teucrian navy scattered far along the waters; and Aeneas' men o'erwhelmed in mingling shock of wave and sky. Saturnian Juno's vengeful stratagem her brother's royal glance failed not to see; and loud to eastward and to westward calling, he voiced this word:“What pride of birth or power is yours, ye winds, that, reckless of my will, audacious thus, ye ride through earth and heaven, and stir these mountain waves? Such rebels I— nay, first I calm this tumult! But yourselves
by heavier chastisement shall expiate hereafter your bold trespass. Haste away and bear your king this word! Not unto him dominion o'er the seas and trident dread, but unto me, Fate gives. Let him possess wild mountain crags, thy favored haunt and home, O Eurus! In his barbarous mansion there, let Aeolus look proud, and play the king in yon close-bounded prison-house of storms!” He spoke, and swiftlier than his word subdued the swelling of the floods; dispersed afar th' assembled clouds, and brought back light to heaven.
Cymothoe then and Triton, with huge toil, thrust down the vessels from the sharp-edged reef; while, with the trident, the great god's own hand assists the task; then, from the sand-strewn shore out-ebbing far, he calms the whole wide sea, and glides light-wheeled along the crested foam. As when, with not unwonted tumult, roars in some vast city a rebellious mob, and base-born passions in its bosom burn, till rocks and blazing torches fill the air (rage never lacks for arms)—if haply then some wise man comes, whose reverend looks attest
a life to duty given, swift silence falls; all ears are turned attentive; and he sways with clear and soothing speech the people's will. So ceased the sea's uproar, when its grave Sire looked o'er th' expanse, and, riding on in light, flung free rein to his winged obedient car. Aeneas' wave-worn crew now landward made, and took the nearest passage, whither lay the coast of Libya. A haven there walled in by bold sides of a rocky isle, offers a spacious and secure retreat, where every billow from the distant main
breaks, and in many a rippling curve retires. Huge crags and two confronted promontories frown heaven-high, beneath whose brows outspread the silent, sheltered waters; on the heights the bright and glimmering foliage seems to show a woodland amphitheatre; and yet higher rises a straight-stemmed grove of dense, dark shade. Fronting on these a grotto may be seen, o'erhung by steep cliffs; from its inmost wall clear springs gush out; and shelving seats it has of unhewn stone, a place the wood-nymphs love. In such a port, a weary ship rides free
of weight of firm-fluked anchor or strong chain. Hither Aeneas of his scattered fleet saving but seven, into harbor sailed; with passionate longing for the touch of land, forth leap the Trojans to the welcome shore, and fling their dripping limbs along the ground. Then good Achates smote a flinty stone, secured a flashing spark, heaped on light leaves, and with dry branches nursed the mounting flame. Then Ceres' gift from the corrupting sea they bring away; and wearied utterly ply Ceres' cunning on the rescued corn,
and parch in flames, and mill 'twixt two smooth stones. Aeneas meanwhile climbed the cliffs, and searched the wide sea-prospect; haply Antheus there, storm-buffeted, might sail within his ken, with biremes, and his Phrygian mariners, or Capys or Caicus armor-clad, upon a towering deck. No ship is seen; but while he looks, three stags along the shore come straying by, and close behind them comes the whole herd, browsing through the lowland vale in one long line. Aeneas stopped and seized his bow and swift-winged arrows, which his friend,
trusty Achates, close beside him bore. His first shafts brought to earth the lordly heads of the high-antlered chiefs; his next assailed the general herd, and drove them one and all in panic through the leafy wood, nor ceased the victory of his bow, till on the ground lay seven huge forms, one gift for every ship. Then back to shore he sped, and to his friends distributed the spoil, with that rare wine which good Acestes while in Sicily had stored in jars, and prince-like sent away with his Ioved guest;—this too Aeneas gave;
and with these words their mournful mood consoled. “Companions mine, we have not failed to feel calamity till now. O, ye have borne far heavier sorrow: Jove will make an end also of this. Ye sailed a course hard by infuriate Scylla's howling cliffs and caves. Ye knew the Cyclops' crags. Lift up your hearts! No more complaint and fear! It well may be some happier hour will find this memory fair. Through chance and change and hazard without end, our goal is Latium; where our destinies beckon to blest abodes, and have ordained
that Troy shall rise new-born! Have patience all! And bide expectantly that golden day.” Such was his word, but vexed with grief and care, feigned hopes upon his forehead firm he wore, and locked within his heart a hero's pain. Now round the welcome trophies of his chase they gather for a feast. Some flay the ribs and bare the flesh below; some slice with knives, and on keen prongs the quivering strips impale, place cauldrons on the shore, and fan the fires. Then, stretched at ease on couch of simple green, they rally their lost powers, and feast them well
on seasoned wine and succulent haunch of game. But hunger banished and the banquet done, in long discourse of their lost mates they tell, 'twixt hopes and fears divided; for who knows whether the lost ones live, or strive with death, or heed no more whatever voice may call? Chiefly Aeneas now bewails his friends, Orontes brave and fallen Amycus, or mourns with grief untold the untimely doom of bold young Gyas and Cloanthus bold. After these things were past, exalted Jove, from his ethereal sky surveying clear
the seas all winged with sails, lands widely spread, and nations populous from shore to shore, paused on the peak of heaven, and fixed his gaze on Libya. But while he anxious mused, near him, her radiant eyes all dim with tears, nor smiling any more, Venus approached, and thus complained: “O thou who dost control things human and divine by changeless laws, enthroned in awful thunder! What huge wrong could my Aeneas and his Trojans few achieve against thy power? For they have borne unnumbered deaths, and, failing Italy,
the gates of all the world against them close. Hast thou not given us thy covenant that hence the Romans when the rolling years have come full cycle, shall arise to power from Troy's regenerate seed, and rule supreme the unresisted lords of land and sea? O Sire, what swerves thy will? How oft have I in Troy's most lamentable wreck and woe consoled my heart with this, and balanced oft our destined good against our destined ill! But the same stormful fortune still pursues my band of heroes on their perilous way.
When shall these labors cease, O glorious King? Antenor, though th' Achaeans pressed him sore, found his way forth, and entered unassailed Illyria's haven, and the guarded land of the Liburni. Straight up stream he sailed where like a swollen sea Timavus pours a nine-fold flood from roaring mountain gorge, and whelms with voiceful wave the fields below. He built Patavium there, and fixed abodes for Troy's far-exiled sons; he gave a name to a new land and race; the Trojan arms were hung on temple walls; and, to this day,
lying in perfect peace, the hero sleeps. But we of thine own seed, to whom thou dost a station in the arch of heaven assign, behold our navy vilely wrecked, because a single god is angry; we endure this treachery and violence, whereby wide seas divide us from th' Hesperian shore. Is this what piety receives? Or thus doth Heaven's decree restore our fallen thrones?” Smiling reply, the Sire of gods and men, with such a look as clears the skies of storm chastely his daughter kissed, and thus spake on:
“Let Cytherea cast her fears away! Irrevocably blest the fortunes be of thee and thine. Nor shalt thou fail to see that City, and the proud predestined wall encompassing Lavinium. Thyself shall starward to the heights of heaven bear Aeneas the great-hearted. Nothing swerves my will once uttered. Since such carking cares consume thee, I this hour speak freely forth, and leaf by leaf the book of fate unfold. Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall
and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond about his gathered people. Summers three shall Latium call him king; and three times pass the winter o'er Rutulia's vanquished hills. His heir, Ascanius, now Iulus called (Ilus it was while Ilium's kingdom stood), full thirty months shall reign, then move the throne from the Lavinian citadel, and build for Alba Longa its well-bastioned wall. Here three full centuries shall Hector's race have kingly power; till a priestess queen, by Mars conceiving, her twin offspring bear;
then Romulus, wolf-nursed and proudly clad in tawny wolf-skin mantle, shall receive the sceptre of his race. He shall uprear and on his Romans his own name bestow. To these I give no bounded times or power, but empire without end. Yea, even my Queen, Juno, who now chastiseth land and sea with her dread frown, will find a wiser way, and at my sovereign side protect and bless the Romans, masters of the whole round world, who, clad in peaceful toga, judge mankind. Such my decree! In lapse of seasons due,
the heirs of Ilium's kings shall bind in chains Mycenae's glory and Achilles' towers, and over prostrate Argos sit supreme. Of Trojan stock illustriously sprung, lo, Caesar comes! whose power the ocean bounds, whose fame, the skies. He shall receive the name Iulus nobly bore, great Julius, he. Him to the skies, in Orient trophies dress, thou shalt with smiles receive; and he, like us, shall hear at his own shrines the suppliant vow. Then will the world grow mild; the battle-sound will be forgot; for olden Honor then,
with spotless Vesta, and the brothers twain, Remus and Romulus, at strife no more, will publish sacred laws. The dreadful gates whence issueth war, shall with close-jointed steel be barred impregnably; and prisoned there the heaven-offending Fury, throned on swords, and fettered by a hundred brazen chains, shall belch vain curses from his lips of gore.” These words he gave, and summoned Maia's son, the herald Mercury, who earthward flying, should bid the Tyrian realms and new-built towers welcome the Trojan waifs; lest Dido, blind
to Fate's decree, should thrust them from the land. He takes his flight, with rhythmic stroke of wing, across th' abyss of air, and soon draws near unto the Libyan mainland. He fulfils his heavenly task; the Punic hearts of stone grow soft beneath the effluence divine; and, most of all, the Queen, with heart at ease awaits benignantly her guests from Troy. But good Aeneas, pondering all night long his many cares, when first the cheerful dawn upon him broke, resolved to take survey of this strange country whither wind and wave
had driven him,—for desert land it seemed,— to learn what tribes of man or beast possess a place so wild, and careful tidings bring back to his friends. His fleet of ships the while, where dense, dark groves o'er-arch a hollowed crag, he left encircled in far-branching shade. Then with no followers save his trusty friend Achates, he went forth upon his way, two broad-tipped javelins poising in his hand. Deep to the midmost wood he went, and there his Mother in his path uprose; she seemed in garb and countenance a maid, and bore,
like Spartan maids, a weapon; in such guise Harpalyce the Thracian urges on her panting coursers and in wild career outstrips impetuous Hebrus as it flows. Over her lovely shoulders was a bow, slender and light, as fits a huntress fair; her golden tresses without wimple moved in every wind, and girded in a knot her undulant vesture bared her marble knees. She hailed them thus: “Ho, sirs, I pray you tell if haply ye have noted, as ye came, one of my sisters in this wood astray?
She bore a quiver, and a lynx's hide her spotted mantle was; perchance she roused some foaming boar, and chased with loud halloo.” So Venus spoke, and Venus' son replied: “No voice or vision of thy sister fair has crossed my path, thou maid without a name! Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould, nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess, art thou bright Phoebus' sister? Or some nymph, the daughter of a god? Whate'er thou art, thy favor we implore, and potent aid in our vast toil. Instruct us of what skies,
or what world's end, our storm-swept lives have found! Strange are these lands and people where we rove, compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand shall many a victim on thine altar slay!” Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft bear bow and quiver, and our ankles white lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies the Punic power, where Tyrian masters hold Agenor's town; but on its borders dwell the Libyans, by battles unsubdued. Upon the throne is Dido, exiled there
from Tyre, to flee th' unnatural enmity of her own brother. 'T was an ancient wrong; too Iong the dark and tangled tale would be; I trace the larger outline of her story: Sichreus was her spouse, whose acres broad no Tyrian lord could match, and he was-blessed by his ill-fated lady's fondest love, whose father gave him her first virgin bloom in youthful marriage. But the kingly power among the Tyrians to her brother came, Pygmalion, none deeper dyed in crime in all that land. Betwixt these twain there rose
a deadly hatred,—and the impious wretch, blinded by greed, and reckless utterly of his fond sister's joy, did murder foul upon defenceless and unarmed Sichaeus, and at the very altar hewed him down. Long did he hide the deed, and guilefully deceived with false hopes, and empty words, her grief and stricken love. But as she slept, her husband's tombless ghost before her came, with face all wondrous pale, and he laid bare his heart with dagger pierced, disclosing so the blood-stained altar and the infamy
that darkened now their house. His counsel was to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land, and for her journey's aid, he whispered where his buried treasure lay, a weight unknown of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged, Dido, assembling her few trusted friends, prepared her flight. There rallied to her cause all who did hate and scorn the tyrant king, or feared his cruelty. They seized his ships, which haply rode at anchor in the bay, and loaded them with gold; the hoarded wealth of vile and covetous Pygmalion
they took to sea. A woman wrought this deed. Then came they to these lands where now thine eyes behold yon walls and yonder citadel of newly rising Carthage. For a price they measured round so much of Afric soil as one bull's hide encircles, and the spot received its name, the Byrsa. But, I pray, what men are ye? from what far land arrived, and whither going?” When she questioned thus, her son, with sighs that rose from his heart's depths, this answer gave: “Divine one, if I tell
my woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause to heed the tale, first would the vesper star th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day in slumber lie. Of ancient Troy are we— if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved from sea to sea, the hazard of the storm cast us up hither on this Libyan coast. I am Aeneas, faithful evermore to Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear my gods ancestral, which I snatched away from peril of the foe. My fame is known above the stars. I travel on in quest
of Italy, my true home-land, and I from Jove himself may trace my birth divine. With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main I launched away. My mother from the skies gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained. Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive the shock of wind and wave; and I myself friendless, bereft, am wandering up and down this Libyan wilderness! Behold me here, from Europe and from Asia exiled still!” But Venus could not let him longer plain, and stopped his grief midway:
“Whoe'er thou art, I deem that not unblest of heavenly powers, with vital breath still thine, thou comest hither unto our Tyrian town. Go steadfast on, and to the royal threshold make thy way! I bring thee tidings that thy comrades all are safe at land; and all thy ships, conveyed by favoring breezes, safe at anchor lie; or else in vain my parents gave me skill to read the skies. Look up at yonder swans! A flock of twelve, whose gayly fluttering file, erst scattered by Jove's eagle swooping down
from his ethereal haunt, now form anew their long-drawn line, and make a landing-place, or, hovering over, scan some chosen ground, or soaring high, with whir of happy wings, re-circle heaven in triumphant song: likewise, I tell thee, thy Iost mariners are landed, or fly landward at full sail. Up, then! let yon plain path thy guidance be,” She ceased and turned away. A roseate beam from her bright shoulder glowed; th' ambrosial hair breathed more than mortal sweetness, while her robes fell rippling to her feet. Each step revealed
the veritable goddess. Now he knew that vision was his mother, and his words pursued the fading phantom as it fled: “Why is thy son deluded o'er and o'er with mocking dreams,—another cruel god? Hast thou no hand-clasp true, nor interchange of words unfeigned betwixt this heart and thine?” Such word of blame he spoke, and took his way toward the city's rampart. Venus then o'erveiled them as they moved in darkened air,— a liquid mantle of thick cloud divine,— that viewless they might pass, nor would any
obstruct, delay, or question why they came. To Paphos then she soared, her Ioved abode, where stands her temple, at whose hundred shrines garlands of myrtle and fresh roses breathe, and clouds of orient sweetness waft away. Meanwhile the wanderers swiftly journey on along the clear-marked road, and soon they climb the brow of a high hill, which close in view o'er-towers the city's crown. The vast exploit, where lately rose but Afric cabins rude, Aeneas wondered at: the smooth, wide ways; the bastioned gates; the uproar of the throng.
The Tyrians toil unwearied; some up-raise a wall or citadel, from far below lifting the ponderous stone; or with due care choose where to build, and close the space around with sacred furrow; in their gathering-place the people for just governors, just laws, and for their reverend senate shout acclaim. Some clear the harbor mouth; some deeply lay the base of a great theatre, and carve out proud columns from the mountain, to adorn their rising stage with lofty ornament. so busy bees above a field of flowers
in early summer amid sunbeams toil, leading abroad their nation's youthful brood; or with the flowing honey storing close the pliant cells, until they quite run o'er with nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm they take their little loads; or lined for war, rout the dull drones, and chase them from the hive; brisk is the task, and all the honeyed air breathes odors of wild thyme. “How blest of Heaven. These men that see their promised ramparts rise!” Aeneas sighed; and swift his glances moved from tower to tower; then on his way he fared,
veiled in the wonder-cloud, whence all unseen of human eyes,—O strange the tale and true!— he threaded the thronged streets, unmarked, unknown. Deep in the city's heart there was a grove of beauteous shade, where once the Tyrians, cast here by stormful waves, delved out of earth that portent which Queen Juno bade them find,— the head of a proud horse,—that ages long their boast might be wealth, luxury and war. Upon this spot Sidonian Dido raised a spacious fane to Juno, which became splendid with gifts, and hallowed far and wide
for potency divine. Its beams were bronze, and on loud hinges swung the brazen doors. A rare, new sight this sacred grove did show, which calmed Aeneas' fears, and made him bold to hope for safety, and with lifted heart from his low-fallen fortunes re-aspire. For while he waits the advent of the Queen, he scans the mighty temple, and admires the city's opulent pride, and all the skill its rival craftsmen in their work approve. Behold! he sees old Ilium's well-fought fields in sequent picture, and those famous wars
now told upon men's lips the whole world round. There Atreus' sons, there kingly Priam moved, and fierce Pelides pitiless to both. Aeneas paused, and, weeping, thus began: “Alas, Achates, what far region now, what land in all the world knows not our pain? See, it is Priam! Virtue's wage is given— O even here! Here also there be tears for what men bear, and mortal creatures feel each other's sorrow. Therefore, have no fear! This story of our loss forbodes us well.” So saying, he received into his heart
that visionary scene, profoundly sighed, and let his plenteous tears unheeded flow. There he beheld the citadel of Troy girt with embattled foes; here, Greeks in flight some Trojan onset 'scaped; there, Phrygian bands before tall-plumed Achilles' chariot sped. The snowy tents of Rhesus spread hard by (he sees them through his tears), where Diomed in night's first watch burst o'er them unawares with bloody havoc and a host of deaths; then drove his fiery coursers o'er the plain before their thirst or hunger could be stayed
on Trojan corn or Xanthus' cooling stream. Here too was princely Troilus, despoiled, routed and weaponless, O wretched boy! Ill-matched against Achilles! His wild steeds bear him along, as from his chariot's rear he falls far back, but clutches still the rein; his hair and shoulders on the ground go trailing, and his down-pointing spear-head scrawls the dust. Elsewhere, to Pallas' ever-hostile shrine, daughters of Ilium, with unsnooded hair, and lifting all in vain her hallowed pall, walked suppliant and sad, beating their breasts,
with outspread palms. But her unswerving eyes the goddess fixed on earth, and would not see. Achilles round the Trojan rampart thrice had dragged the fallen Hector, and for gold was making traffic of the lifeless clay. Aeneas groaned aloud, with bursting heart, to see the spoils, the car, the very corpse of his lost friend,—while Priam for the dead stretched forth in piteous prayer his helpless hands. There too his own presentment he could see surrounded by Greek kings; and there were shown hordes from the East, and black-browed Memnon's arms;
her band of Amazons, with moon-shaped shields, Penthesilea led; her martial eye flamed on from troop to troop; a belt of gold beneath one bare, protruded breast she bound— a warrior-virgin braving mail-clad men. While on such spectacle Aeneas' eyes looked wondering, while mute and motionless he stood at gaze, Queen Dido to the shrine in lovely majesty drew near; a throng of youthful followers pressed round her way. So by the margin of Eurotas wide or o'er the Cynthian steep, Diana leads
her bright processional; hither and yon are visionary legions numberless of Oreads; the regnant goddess bears a quiver on her shoulders, and is seen emerging tallest of her beauteous train; while joy unutterable thrills the breast of fond Latona: Dido not less fair amid her subjects passed, and not less bright her glow of gracious joy, while she approved her future kingdom's pomp and vast emprise. Then at the sacred portal and beneath the temple's vaulted dome she took her place,
encompassed by armed men, and lifted high upon a throne; her statutes and decrees the people heard, and took what lot or toil her sentence, or impartial urn, assigned. But, lo! Aeneas sees among the throng Antheus, Sergestus, and Cloanthus bold, with other Teucrians, whom the black storm flung far o'er the deep and drove on alien shores. Struck dumb was he, and good Achates too, half gladness and half fear. Fain would they fly to friendship's fond embrace; but knowing not what might befall, their hearts felt doubt and care.
Therefore they kept the secret, and remained forth-peering from the hollow veil of cloud, haply to learn what their friends' fate might be, or where the fleet was landed, or what aim had brought them hither; for a chosen few from every ship had come to sue for grace, and all the temple with their voices rang. The doors swung wide; and after access given and leave to speak, revered Ilioneus with soul serene these lowly words essayed: “O Queen, who hast authority of Jove to found this rising city, and subdue
with righteous governance its people proud, we wretched Trojans, blown from sea to sea, beseech thy mercy; keep the curse of fire from our poor ships! We pray thee, do no wrong unto a guiltless race. But heed our plea! No Libyan hearth shall suffer by our sword, nor spoil and plunder to our ships be borne; such haughty violence fits not the souls of vanquished men. We journey to a land named, in Greek syllables, Hesperia: a storied realm, made mighty by great wars and wealth of fruitful land; in former days
Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said, have called it Italy, a chieftain's name to a whole region given. Thitherward our ships did fare; but with swift-rising flood the stormful season of Orion's star drove us on viewless shoals; and angry gales dispersed us, smitten by the tumbling surge, among innavigable rocks. Behold, we few swam hither, waifs upon your shore! What race of mortals this? What barbarous land, that with inhospitable laws ye thrust a stranger from your coasts, and fly to arms,
nor grant mere foothold on your kingdom's bound? If man thou scornest and all mortal power, forget not that the gods watch good and ill! A king we had; Aeneas,—never man in all the world more loyal, just and true, nor mightier in arms! If Heaven decree his present safety, if he now do breathe the air of earth and is not buried low among the dreadful shades, then fear not thou! For thou wilt never rue that thou wert prompt to do us the first kindness. O'er the sea in the Sicilian land, are cities proud,
with martial power, and great Acestes there is of our Trojan kin. So grant us here to beach our shattered ships along thy shore, and from thy forest bring us beam and spar to mend our broken oars. Then, if perchance we find once more our comrades and our king, and forth to Italy once more set sail, to Italy, our Latin hearth and home, we will rejoicing go. But if our weal is clean gone by, and thee, blest chief and sire, these Libyan waters keep, and if no more Iulus bids us hope,—then, at the least,
to yon Sicilian seas, to friendly lands whence hither drifting with the winds we came, let us retrace the journey and rejoin good King Acestes.” So Ilioneus ended his pleading; the Dardanidae murmured assent. Then Dido, briefly and with downcast eyes, her answer made: “O Teucrians, have no fear! Bid care begone! It was necessity, and my young kingdom's weakness, which compelled the policy of force, and made me keep such vigilant sentry my wide co'ast along.
Aeneas and his people, that fair town of Troy—who knows them not? The whole world knows those valorous chiefs and huge, far-flaming wars. Our Punic hearts are not of substance all insensible and dull: the god of day drives not his fire-breathing steeds so far from this our Tyrian town. If ye would go to great Hesperia, where Saturn reigned, or if voluptuous Eryx and the throne of good Acestes be your journey's end, I send you safe; I speed you on your way. But if in these my realms ye will abide,
associates of my power, behold, I build this city for your own! Choose haven here for your good ships. Beneath my royal sway Trojan and Tyrian equal grace will find. But O, that this same storm had brought your King. Aeneas, hither! I will bid explore our Libya's utmost bound, where haply he in wilderness or hamlet wanders lost.” By these fair words to joy profoundly stirred, Father Aeneas and Achates brave to cast aside the cloud that wrapped them round yearned greatly; and Achates to his King
spoke thus: “O goddess-born, in thy wise heart what purpose rises now? Lo! All is well! Thy fleet and followers are safe at land. One only comes not, who before our eyes sank in the soundless sea. All else fulfils thy mother's prophecy.” Scarce had he spoke when suddenly that overmantling cloud was cloven, and dissolved in lucent air; forth stood Aeneas. A clear sunbeam smote his god-like head and shoulders. Venus' son of his own heavenly mother now received youth's glowing rose, an eye of joyful fire,
and tresses clustering fair. 'T is even so the cunning craftsman unto ivory gives new beauty, or with circlet of bright gold encloses silver or the Parian stone. Thus of the Queen he sued, while wonderment fell on all hearts. “Behold the man ye seek, for I am here! Aeneas, Trojan-born, brought safely hither from yon Libyan seas! O thou who first hast looked with pitying eye on Troy's unutterable grief, who even to us (escaped our Grecian victor, and outworn by all the perils land and ocean know),
to us, bereft and ruined, dost extend such welcome to thy kingdom and thy home! I have no power, Dido, to give thanks to match thine ample grace; nor is there power in any remnant of our Dardan blood, now fled in exile o'er the whole wide world. May gods on high (if influence divine bless faithful lives, or recompense be found in justice and thy self-approving mind) give thee thy due reward. What age was blest by such a birth as thine? What parents proud such offspring bore? O, while the rivers run
to mingle with the sea, while shadows pass along yon rounded hills from vale to vale, and while from heaven's unextinguished fire the stars be fed—so Iong thy glorious name, thy place illustrious and thy virtue's praise, abide undimmed.—Yet I myself must go to lands I know not where.” After this word his right hand clasped his Ioved Ilioneus, his left Serestus; then the comrades all, brave Gyas, brave Cloanthus, and their peers. Sidonian Dido felt her heart stand still when first she looked on him; and thrilled again
to hear what vast adventure had befallen so great a hero. Thus she welcomed him: “What chance, O goddess-born, o'er danger's path impels? What power to this wild coast has borne? Art thou Aeneas, great Anchises' son, whom lovely Venus by the Phrygian stream of Simois brought forth unto the day? Now I bethink me of when Teucer came to Sidon, exiled, and of Belus' power desired a second throne. For Belus then, our worshipped sire, despoiled the teeming land of Cyprus, as its conqueror and king.
And since that hour I oft have heard the tale of fallen Troy, of thine own noble name, and of Achaean kings. Teucer was wont, although their foe, to praise the Teucrian race, and boasted him of that proud lineage sprung. Therefore, behold, our portals are swung wide for all your company. I also bore hard fate like thine. I too was driven of storms and after long toil was allowed at last to call this land my home. O, I am wise in sorrow, and I help all suffering souls!” So saying, she bade Aeneas welcome take
beneath her royal roof, and to the gods made sacrifice in temples, while she sent unto the thankful Trojans on the shore a score of bulls, and of huge, bristling swine, a herd of a whole hundred, and a flock of goodly lambs, a hundred, who ran close beside the mother-ewes: and all were given in joyful feast to please the Heavenly Powers. Her palace showed a monarch's fair array all glittering and proud, and feasts were spread within the ample court. Rich broideries hung deep incarnadined with Tyrian skill;
the board had massy silver, gold-embossed, where gleamed the mighty deeds of all her sires, a graven chronicle of peace and war prolonged, since first her ancient line began, from royal sire to son. Aeneas now (for love in his paternal heart spoke loud and gave no rest) bade swift Achates run to tell Ascanius all, and from the ship to guide him upward to the town,—for now the father's whole heart for Ascanius yearned. And gifts he bade them bring, which had been saved
in Ilium's fall: a richly broidered cloak heavy with golden emblems; and a veil by leaves of saffron lilies bordered round, which Argive Helen o'er her beauty threw, her mother Leda's gift most wonderful, and which to Troy she bore, when flying far in lawless wedlock from Mycenae's towers; a sceptre, too, once fair Ilione's, eldest of Priam's daughters; and round pearls strung in a necklace, and a double crown of jewels set in gold. These gifts to find, Achates to the tall ships sped away.
But Cytherea in her heart revolved new wiles, new schemes: how Cupid should transform his countenance, and, coming in the guise of sweet Ascanius, still more inflame the amorous Queen with gifts, and deeply fuse through all her yielding frame his fatal fire. Sooth, Venus feared the many-languaged guile which Tyrians use; fierce Juno's hate she feared, and falling night renewed her sleepless care. Therefore to Love, the light-winged god, she said: “Sweet son, of whom my sovereignty and power alone are given! O son, whose smile may scorn
the shafts of Jove whereby the Titans fell, to thee I fly, and humbly here implore thy help divine. Behold, from land to land Aeneas, thine own brother, voyages on storm-driven, by Juno's causeless enmity. Thou knowest it well, and oft hast sighed to see my sighs and tears. Dido the Tyrian now detains him with soft speeches; and I fear such courtesy from Juno means us ill; she is not one who, when the hour is ripe, bids action pause. I therefore now intend the Tyrian Queen to snare, and siege her breast
with our invading fire, before some god shall change her mood. But let her bosom burn with love of my Aeneas not less than mine. This thou canst bring to pass. I pray thee hear the plan I counsel. At his father's call Ascanius, heir of kings, makes haste to climb to yon Sidonian citadel; my grace protects him, and he bears gifts which were saved from hazard of the sea and burning Troy. Him lapped in slumber on Cythera's hill, or in Idalia's deep and hallowing shade, myself will hide, lest haply he should learn
our stratagem, and burst in, foiling all. Wear thou his shape for one brief night thyself, and let thy boyhood feign another boy's familiar countenance; when Dido there, beside the royal feast and flowing wine, all smiles and joy, shall clasp thee to her breast while she caresses thee, and her sweet lips touch close with thine, then let thy secret fire breathe o'er her heart, to poison and betray.” The love-god to his mother's dear behest gave prompt assent. He put his pinions by and tripped it like Iulus, light of heart.
But Venus o'er Ascanius' body poured a perfect sleep, and, to her heavenly breast enfolding him, far, far away upbore to fair Idalia's grove, where fragrant buds of softly-petalled marjoram embower in pleasurable shade. Cupid straightway obeyed his mother's word and bore the gifts, each worthy of a king, as offerings to greet the Tyrian throne; and as he went he clasped Achates' friendly hand, and smiled. Father Aeneas now, and all his band
of Trojan chivalry, at social feast, on lofty purple-pillowed couches lie; deft slaves fresh water on their fingers pour, and from reed-woven basketry renew the plenteous bread, or bring smooth napery of softest weave; fifty handmaidens serve, whose task it is to range in order fair the varied banquet, or at altars bright throw balm and incense on the sacred fires. A hundred more serve with an equal band of beauteous pages, whose obedient skill piles high the generous board and fills the bowl.
The Tyrians also to the festal hall come thronging, and receive their honor due, each on his painted couch; with wondering eyes Aeneas' gifts they view, and wondering more, mark young Iulus' radiant brows divine, his guileful words, the golden pall he bears, and broidered veil with saffron lilies bound. The Tyrian Queen ill-starred, already doomed to her approaching woe, scanned ardently, with kindling cheek and never-sated eyes, the precious gifts and wonder-gifted boy. He round Aeneas' neck his arms entwined,
fed the deep yearning of his seeming sire, then sought the Queen's embrace; her eyes, her soul clave to him as she strained him to her breast. For Dido knew not in that fateful hour how great a god betrayed her. He began, remembering his mother (she who bore the lovely Acidalian Graces three), to make the dear name of Sichaeus fade, and with new life, new love, to re-possess her Iong-since slumbering bosom's Iost desire. When the main feast is over, they replace the banquet with huge bowls, and crown the wine
with ivy-leaf and rose. Loud rings the roof with echoing voices; from the gilded vault far-blazing cressets swing, or torches bright drive the dark night away. The Queen herself called for her golden chalice studded round with jewels, and o'er-brimming it with wine as Belus and his proud successors use, commanded silence, and this utterance made: “Great Jove, of whom are hospitable laws for stranger-guest, may this auspicious day bless both our Tyrians and the wanderers from Trojan shore. May our posterity
keep this remembrance! Let kind Juno smile, and Bacchus, Iord of mirth, attend us here! And, O ye Tyrians, come one and all, and with well-omened words our welcome share!” So saying, she outpoured the sacred drop due to the gods, and lightly from the rim sipped the first taste, then unto Bitias gave with urgent cheer; he seized it, nothing loth, quaffed deep and long the foaming, golden bowl, then passed to others. On a gilded Iyre the flowing-haired Iopas woke a song taught him by famous Atlas: of the moon
he sang, the wanderer, and what the sun's vast labors be; then would his music tell whence man and beast were born, and whence were bred clouds, lightnings, and Arcturus' stormful sign, the Hyades, rain-stars, and nigh the Pole the great and lesser Wain; for well he knew why colder suns make haste to quench their orb in ocean-stream, and wintry nights be slow. Loudly the Tyrians their minstrel praised, and Troy gave prompt applause. Dido the while with varying talk prolonged the fateful night, and drank both long and deep of love and wine.
Now many a tale of Priam would she crave, of Hector many; or what radiant arms Aurora's son did wear; what were those steeds of Diomed, or what the stature seemed of great Achilles. “Come, illustrious guest, begin the tale,” she said, “begin and tell the perfidy of Greece, thy people's fall, and all thy wanderings. For now,—Ah, me! Seven times the summer's burning stars have seen thee wandering far o'er alien lands and seas.”
Book 2
A general silence fell; and all gave ear, while, from his lofty station at the feast, Father Aeneas with these words began :— A grief unspeakable thy gracious word, o sovereign lady, bids my heart live o'er: how Asia's glory and afflicted throne the Greek flung down; which woeful scene I saw, and bore great part in each event I tell. But O! in telling, what Dolopian churl, or Myrmidon, or gory follower of grim Ulysses could the tears restrain? 'T is evening; lo! the dews of night begin
to fall from heaven, and yonder sinking stars invite to slumber. But if thy heart yearn to hear in brief of all our evil days and Troy's last throes, although the memory makes my soul shudder and recoil in pain, I will essay it. Wearied of the war, and by ill-fortune crushed, year after year, the kings of Greece, by Pallas' skill divine, build a huge horse, a thing of mountain size, with timbered ribs of fir. They falsely say it has been vowed to Heaven for safe return, and spread this lie abroad. Then they conceal
choice bands of warriors in the deep, dark side, and fill the caverns of that monstrous womb with arms and soldiery. In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an island widely famed and opulent, ere Priam's kingdom fell, but a poor haven now, with anchorage not half secure; 't was thitherward they sailed, and lurked unseen by that abandoned shore. We deemed them launched away and sailing far, bound homeward for Mycenae. Teucria then threw off her grief inveterate; all her gates swung wide; exultant went we forth, and saw
the Dorian camp untenanted, the siege abandoned, and the shore without a keel. “Here!” cried we, “the Dolopian pitched; the host of fierce Achilles here; here lay the fleet; and here the battling lines to conflict ran.” Others, all wonder, scan the gift of doom by virgin Pallas given, and view with awe that horse which loomed so large. Thymoetes then bade lead it through the gates, and set on high within our citadel,—or traitor he, or tool of fate in Troy's predestined fall. But Capys, as did all of wiser heart,
bade hurl into the sea the false Greek gift, or underneath it thrust a kindling flame or pierce the hollow ambush of its womb with probing spear. Yet did the multitude veer round from voice to voice and doubt of all. Then from the citadel, conspicuous, Laocoon, with all his following choir, hurried indignant down; and from afar thus hailed the people: “O unhappy men! What madness this? Who deems our foemen fled? Think ye the gifts of Greece can lack for guile? Have ye not known Ulysses? The Achaean
hides, caged in yonder beams; or this is reared for engin'ry on our proud battlements, to spy upon our roof-tops, or descend in ruin on the city. 'T is a snare. Trust not this horse, O Troy, whate'er it bode! I fear the Greeks, though gift on gift they bear.” So saying, he whirled with ponderous javelin a sturdy stroke straight at the rounded side of the great, jointed beast. A tremor struck its towering form, and through the cavernous womb rolled loud, reverberate rumbling, deep and long. If heaven's decree, if our own wills, that hour,
had not been fixed on woe, his spear had brought a bloody slaughter on our ambushed foe, and Troy were standing on the earth this day! O Priam's towers, ye were unfallen still! But, lo! with hands fast bound behind, a youth by clamorous Dardan shepherds haled along, was brought before our king,—to this sole end a self-surrendered captive, that he might, although a nameless stranger, cunningly deliver to the Greek the gates of Troy. His firm-set mind flinched not from either goal,— success in crime, or on swift death to fall.
The thronging Trojan youth made haste his way from every side, all eager to see close their captive's face, and clout with emulous scorn. Hear now what Greek deception is, and learn from one dark wickedness the whole. For he, a mark for every eye, defenceless, dazed, stood staring at our Phrygian hosts, and cried: “Woe worth the day! What ocean or what shore will have me now? What desperate path remains for miserable me? Now have I lost all foothold with the Greeks, and o'er my head Troy's furious sons call bloody vengeance down.”
Such groans and anguish turned all rage away and stayed our lifted hands. We bade him tell his birth, his errand, and from whence might be such hope of mercy for a foe in chains. Then fearing us no more, this speech he dared: “O King! I will confess, whate'er befall, the whole unvarnished truth. I will not hide my Grecian birth. Yea, thus will I begin. For Fortune has brought wretched Sinon low; but never shall her cruelty impair his honor and his truth. Perchance the name of Palamedes, Belus' glorious son,
has come by rumor to your listening ears; whom by false witness and conspiracy, because his counsel was not for this war, the Greeks condemned, though guiltless, to his death, and now make much lament for him they slew. I, his companion, of his kith and kin, sent hither by my humble sire's command, followed his arms and fortunes from my youth. Long as his throne endured, and while he throve in conclave with his kingly peers, we twain some name and lustre bore; but afterward, because that cheat Ulysses envied him
(Ye know the deed), he from this world withdrew, and I in gloom and tribulation sore lived miserably on, lamenting loud my lost friend's blameless fall. A fool was I that kept not these lips closed; but I had vowed that if a conqueror home to Greece I came, I would avenge. Such words moved wrath, and were the first shock of my ruin; from that hour, Ulysses whispered slander and alarm; breathed doubt and malice into all men's ears, and darkly plotted how to strike his blow. Nor rest had he, till Calchas, as his tool,-
but why unfold this useless, cruel story? Why make delay? Ye count all sons of Greece arrayed as one; and to have heard thus far suffices you. Take now your ripe revenge! Ulysses smiles and Atreus' royal sons with liberal price your deed of blood repay.” We ply him then with passionate appeal and question all his cause: of guilt so dire or such Greek guile we harbored not the thought. So on he prates, with well-feigned grief and fear, and from his Iying heart thus told his tale: “Full oft the Greeks had fain achieved their flight,
and raised the Trojan siege, and sailed away war-wearied quite. O, would it had been so! Full oft the wintry tumult of the seas did wall them round, and many a swollen storm their embarcation stayed. But chiefly when, all fitly built of beams of maple fair, this horse stood forth,— what thunders filled the skies! With anxious fears we sent Eurypylus to ask Apollo's word; and from the shrine he brings the sorrowful commandment home: ‘By flowing blood and by a virgin slain the wild winds were appeased, when first ye came,
ye sons of Greece, to Ilium's distant shore. Through blood ye must return. Let some Greek life your expiation be.’ The popular ear the saying caught, all spirits were dimmed o'er; cold doubt and horror through each bosom ran, asking what fate would do, and on what wretch Apollo's choice would fall. Ulysses, then, amid the people's tumult and acclaim, thrust Calchas forth, some prophecy to tell to all the throng: he asked him o'er and o'er what Heaven desired. Already not a few foretold the murderous plot, and silently
watched the dark doom upon my life impend. Twice five long days the seer his lips did seal, and hid himself, refusing to bring forth His word of guile, and name what wretch should die. At last, reluctant, and all loudly urged By false Ulysses, he fulfils their plot, and, lifting up his voice oracular, points out myself the victim to be slain. Nor did one voice oppose. The mortal stroke horribly hanging o'er each coward head was changed to one man's ruin, and their hearts endured it well. Soon rose th' accursed morn;
the bloody ritual was ready; salt was sprinkled on the sacred loaf; my brows were bound with fillets for the offering. But I escaped that death—yes! I deny not! I cast my fetters off, and darkling lay concealed all night in lake-side sedge and mire, awaiting their departure, if perchance they should in truth set sail. But nevermore shall my dear, native country greet these eyes. No more my father or my tender babes shall I behold. Nay, haply their own lives are forfeit, when my foemen take revenge
for my escape, and slay those helpless ones, in expiation of my guilty deed. O, by yon powers in heaven which witness truth, by aught in this dark world remaining now of spotless human faith and innocence, I do implore thee look with pitying eye on these long sufferings my heart hath borne. O, pity! I deserve not what I bear.” Pity and pardon to his tears we gave, and spared his life. King Priam bade unbind the fettered hands and loose those heavy chains that pressed him sore; then with benignant mien
addressed him thus: “ Whate'er thy place or name, forget the people thou hast Iost, and be henceforth our countryman. But tell me true! What means the monstrous fabric of this horse? Who made it? Why? What offering to Heaven, or engin'ry of conquest may it be?” He spake; and in reply, with skilful guile, Greek that he was! the other lifted up his hands, now freed and chainless, to the skies: “O ever-burning and inviolate fires, witness my word! O altars and sharp steel, whose curse I fled, O fillets of the gods,
which bound a victim's helpless forehead, hear! 'T is lawful now to break the oath that gave my troth to Greece. To execrate her kings is now my solemn duty. Their whole plot I publish to the world. No fatherland and no allegiance binds me any more. O Troy, whom I have saved, I bid thee keep the pledge of safety by good Priam given, for my true tale shall my rich ransom be. The Greeks' one hope, since first they opened war, was Pallas, grace and power. But from the day when Diomed, bold scorner of the gods,
and false Ulysses, author of all guile, rose up and violently bore away Palladium, her holy shrine, hewed down the sentinels of her acropolis, and with polluted, gory hands dared touch the goddess, virgin fillets, white and pure,— thenceforth, I say, the courage of the Greeks ebbed utterly away; their strength was Iost, and favoring Pallas all her grace withdrew. No dubious sign she gave. Scarce had they set her statue in our camp, when glittering flame flashed from the staring eyes; from all its limbs
salt sweat ran forth; three times (O wondrous tale!) it gave a sudden skyward leap, and made prodigious trembling of her lance and shield. The prophet Calchas bade us straightway take swift flight across the sea; for fate had willed the Trojan citadel should never fall by Grecian arm, till once more they obtain new oracles at Argos, and restore that god the round ships hurried o'er the sea. Now in Mycenae, whither they are fled, new help of heaven they find, and forge anew the means of war. Back hither o'er the waves
they suddenly will come. So Calchas gave the meaning of the god. Warned thus, they reared in place of Pallas, desecrated shrine yon image of the horse, to expiate the woeful sacrilege. Calchas ordained that they should build a thing of monstrous size of jointed beams, and rear it heavenward, so might it never pass your gates, nor come inside your walls, nor anywise restore unto the Trojans their lost help divine. For had your hands Minerva's gift profaned, a ruin horrible—O, may the gods
bring it on Calchas rather!—would have come on Priam's throne and all the Phrygian power. But if your hands should lift the holy thing to your own citadel, then Asia's host would hurl aggression upon Pelops' land, and all that curse on our own nation fall.” Thus Sinon's guile and practiced perjury our doubt dispelled. His stratagems and tears wrought victory where neither Tydeus' son, nor mountain-bred Achilles could prevail, nor ten years' war, nor fleets a thousand strong. But now a vaster spectacle of fear
burst over us, to vex our startled souls. Laocoon, that day by cast of lot priest unto Neptune, was in act to slay a huge bull at the god's appointed fane. Lo! o'er the tranquil deep from Tenedos appeared a pair (I shudder as I tell) of vastly coiling serpents, side by side, stretching along the waves, and to the shore taking swift course; their necks were lifted high, their gory dragon-crests o'ertopped the waves; all else, half seen, trailed low along the sea; while with loud cleavage of the foaming brine
their monstrous backs wound forward fold on fold. Soon they made land; the furious bright eyes glowed with ensanguined fire; their quivering tongues lapped hungrily the hissing, gruesome jaws. All terror-pale we fled. Unswerving then the monsters to Laocoon made way. First round the tender limbs of his two sons each dragon coiled, and on the shrinking flesh fixed fast and fed. Then seized they on the sire, who flew to aid, a javelin in his hand, embracing close in bondage serpentine twice round the waist; and twice in scaly grasp
around his neck, and o'er him grimly peered with lifted head and crest; he, all the while, his holy fillet fouled with venomous blood, tore at his fetters with a desperate hand, and lifted up such agonizing voice, as when a bull, death-wounded, seeks to flee the sacrificial altar, and thrusts back from his doomed head the ill-aimed, glancing blade. then swiftly writhed the dragon-pair away unto the templed height, and in the shrine of cruel Pallas sure asylum found beneath the goddess' feet and orbed shield.
Such trembling horror as we ne'er had known seized now on every heart. “ Of his vast guilt Laocoon,” they say, “receives reward; for he with most abominable spear did strike and violate that blessed wood. Yon statue to the temple! Ask the grace of glorious Pallas!” So the people cried in general acclaim.Ourselves did make a breach within our walls and opened wide the ramparts of our city. One and all were girded for the task. Smooth-gliding wheels were 'neath its feet; great ropes stretched round its neck,
till o'er our walls the fatal engine climbed, pregnant with men-at-arms. On every side fair youths and maidens made a festal song, and hauled the ropes with merry heart and gay. So on and up it rolled, a tower of doom, and in proud menace through our Forum moved. O Ilium, my country, where abode the gods of all my sires! O glorious walls of Dardan's sons! before your gates it passed, four times it stopped and dreadful clash of arms four times from its vast concave loudly rang. Yet frantic pressed we on, our hearts all blind,
and in the consecrated citadel set up the hateful thing. Cassandra then from heaven-instructed heart our doom foretold; but doomed to unbelief were Ilium's sons. Our hapless nation on its dying day flung free o'er streets and shrines the votive flowers. The skies rolled on; and o'er the ocean fell the veil of night, till utmost earth and heaven and all their Myrmidonian stratagems were mantled darkly o'er. In silent sleep the Trojan city lay; dull slumber chained its weary life. But now the Greek array
of ordered ships moved on from Tenedos, their only light the silent, favoring moon, on to the well-known strand. The King displayed torch from his own ship, and Sinon then, whom wrathful Heaven defended in that hour, let the imprisoned band of Greeks go free from that huge womb of wood; the open horse restored them to the light; and joyfully emerging from the darkness, one by one, princely Thessander, Sthenelus, and dire Ulysses glided down the swinging cord. Closely upon them Neoptolemus,
the son of Peleus, came, and Acamas, King Menelaus, Thoas and Machaon, and last, Epeus, who the fabric wrought. Upon the town they fell, for deep in sleep and drowsed with wine it lay; the sentinels they slaughtered, and through gates now opened wide let in their fellows, and arrayed for war th' auxiliar legions of the dark design. That hour it was when heaven's first gift of sleep on weary hearts of men most sweetly steals. O, then my slumbering senses seemed to see Hector, with woeful face and streaming eyes;
I seemed to see him from the chariot trailing, foul with dark dust and gore, his swollen feet pierced with a cruel thong. Ah me! what change from glorious Hector when he homeward bore the spoils of fierce Achilles; or hurled far that shower of torches on the ships of Greece! Unkempt his beard, his tresses thick with blood, and all those wounds in sight which he did take defending Troy. Then, weeping as I spoke, I seemed on that heroic shape to call with mournful utterance: “O star of Troy! O surest hope and stay of all her sons!
Why tarriest thou so Iong? What region sends the long-expected Hector home once more? These weary eyes that look on thee have seen hosts of thy kindred die, and fateful change upon thy people and thy city fall. O, say what dire occasion has defiled thy tranquil brows? What mean those bleeding wounds?” Silent he stood, nor anywise would stay my vain lament; but groaned, and answered thus: “Haste, goddess-born, and out of yonder flames achieve thy flight. Our foes have scaled the wall; exalted Troy is falling. Fatherland
and Priam ask no more. If human arm could profit Troy, my own had kept her free. Her Lares and her people to thy hands Troy here commends. Companions let them be of all thy fortunes. Let them share thy quest of that wide realm, which, after wandering far, thou shalt achieve, at last, beyond the sea.” He spoke: and from our holy hearth brought forth the solemn fillet, the ancestral shrines, and Vesta's ever-bright, inviolate fire. Now shrieks and loud confusion swept the town; and though my father's dwelling stood apart
embowered deep in trees, th' increasing din drew nearer, and the battle-thunder swelled. I woke on sudden, and up-starting scaled the roof, the tower, then stood with listening ear: 't was like an harvest burning, when wild winds uprouse the flames; 't was like a mountain stream that bursts in flood and ruinously whelms sweet fields and farms and all the ploughman's toil, whirling whole groves along; while dumb with fear, from some far cliff the shepherd hears the sound. Now their Greek plot was plain, the stratagem at last laid bare. Deiphobus' great house
sank vanquished in the fire. Ucalegon's hard by was blazing, while the waters wide around Sigeum gave an answering glow. Shrill trumpets rang; Ioud shouting voices roared; wildly I armed me (when the battle calls, how dimly reason shines!); I burned to join the rally of my peers, and to the heights defensive gather. Frenzy and vast rage seized on my soul. I only sought what way with sword in hand some noble death to die. When Panthus met me, who had scarce escaped the Grecian spears,—Panthus of Othrys' line,
Apollo's priest within our citadel; his holy emblems, his defeated gods, and his small grandson in his arms he bore, while toward the gates with wild, swift steps he flew. “How fares the kingdom, Panthus? What strong place is still our own?” But scarcely could I ask when thus, with many a groan, he made reply:— “Dardania's death and doom are come to-day, implacable. There is no Ilium now; our Trojan name is gone, the Teucrian throne Quite fallen. For the wrathful power of Jove has given to Argos all our boast and pride.
The Greek is Iord of all yon blazing towers. yon horse uplifted on our city's heart disgorges men-at-arms. False Sinon now, with scorn exultant, heaps up flame on flame. Others throw wide the gates. The whole vast horde that out of proud Mycenae hither sailed is at us. With confronting spears they throng each narrow passage. Every steel-bright blade is flashing naked, making haste for blood. Our sentries helpless meet the invading shock and give back blind and unavailing war.” By Panthus' word and by some god impelled,
I flew to battle, where the flames leaped high, where grim Bellona called, and all the air resounded high as heaven with shouts of war. Rhipeus and Epytus of doughty arm were at my side, Dymas and Hypanis, seen by a pale moon, join our little band; and young Coroebus, Mygdon's princely son, who was in Troy that hour because he loved Cassandra madly, and had made a league as Priam's kinsman with our Phrygian arms: ill-starred, to heed not what the virgin raved! When these I saw close-gathered for the fight,
I thus addressed them: “Warriors, vainly brave, if ye indeed desire to follow one who dares the uttermost brave men may do, our evil plight ye see: the gods are fled from every altar and protecting fire, which were the kingdom's stay. Ye offer aid unto your country's ashes. Let us fight unto the death! To arms, my men, to arms! The single hope and stay of desperate men is their despair.” Thus did I rouse their souls. Then like the ravening wolves, some night of cloud, when cruel hunger in an empty maw
drives them forth furious, and their whelps behind wait famine-throated; so through foemen's steel we flew to surest death, and kept our way straight through the midmost town . The wings of night brooded above us in vast vault of shade. But who the bloodshed of that night can tell? What tongue its deaths shall number, or what eyes find meed of tears to equal all its woe? The ancient City fell, whose throne had stood age after age. Along her streets were strewn the unresisting dead; at household shrines and by the temples of the gods they lay.
Yet not alone was Teucrian blood required: oft out of vanquished hearts fresh valor flamed, and the Greek victor fell. Anguish and woe were everywhere; pale terrors ranged abroad, and multitudinous death met every eye. Androgeos, followed by a thronging band of Greeks, first met us on our desperate way; but heedless, and confounding friend with foe, thus, all unchallenged, hailed us as his own : “Haste, heroes! Are ye laggards at this hour? Others bear off the captives and the spoil of burning Troy. Just from the galleys ye?”
He spoke; but straightway, when no safe reply returned, he knew himself entrapped, and fallen into a foeman's snare; struck dumb was he and stopped both word and motion; as one steps, when blindly treading a thick path of thorns, upon a snake, and sick with fear would flee that lifted wrath and swollen gorge of green: so trembling did Androgeos backward fall. At them we flew and closed them round with war; and since they could not know the ground, and fear had whelmed them quite, we swiftly laid them low. Thus Fortune on our first achievement smiled;
and, flushed with victory, Cormbus cried: “Come, friends, and follow Fortune's finger, where she beckons us what path deliverance lies. Change we our shields, and these Greek emblems wear. 'Twixt guile and valor who will nicely weigh When foes are met? These dead shall find us arms.” With this, he dons Androgeos' crested helm and beauteous, blazoned shield; and to his side girds on a Grecian blade. Young Rhipeus next, with Dymas and the other soldiery, repeat the deed, exulting, and array their valor in fresh trophies from the slain.
Now intermingled with our foes we moved, and alien emblems wore; the long, black night brought many a grapple, and a host of Greeks down to the dark we hurled. Some fled away, seeking their safe ships and the friendly shore. Some cowards foul went clambering back again to that vast horse and hid them in its maw. But woe is me! If gods their help withhold, 't is impious to be brave. That very hour the fair Cassandra passed us, bound in chains, King Priam's virgin daughter, from the shrine and altars of Minerva; her loose hair
had lost its fillet; her impassioned eyes were lifted in vain prayer,—her eyes alone! For chains of steel her frail, soft hands confined. Coroebus' eyes this horror not endured, and, sorrow-crazed, he plunged him headlong in the midmost fray, self-offered to be slain, while in close mass our troop behind him poured. But, at this point, the overwhelming spears of our own kinsmen rained resistless down from a high temple-tower; and carnage wild ensued, because of the Greek arms we bore and our false crests. The howling Grecian band,
crazed by Cassandra's rescue, charged at us from every side; Ajax of savage soul, the sons of Atreus, and that whole wild horde Achilles from Dolopian deserts drew. 'T was like the bursting storm, when gales contend, west wind and South, and jocund wind of morn upon his orient steeds—while forests roar, and foam-flecked Nereus with fierce trident stirs the dark deep of the sea. All who did hide in shadows of the night, by our assault surprised, and driven in tumultuous flight, now start to view. Full well they now can see
our shields and borrowed arms, and clearly note our speech of alien sound; their multitude o'erwhelms us utterly. Coroebus first at mailed Minerva's altar prostrate lay, pierced by Peneleus, blade; then Rhipeus fell; we deemed him of all Trojans the most just, most scrupulously righteous; but the gods gave judgment otherwise. There Dymas died, and Hypanis, by their compatriots slain; nor thee, O Panthus, in that mortal hour, could thy clean hands or Phoebus, priesthood save. O ashes of my country! funeral pyre
of all my kin! bear witness that my breast shrank not from any sword the Grecian drew, and that my deeds the night my country died deserved a warrior's death, had Fate ordained. But soon our ranks were broken; at my side stayed Iphitus and Pelias; one with age was Iong since wearied, and the other bore the burden of Ulysses' crippling wound. Straightway the roar and tumult summoned us to Priam's palace,where a battle raged as if save this no conflict else were known, and all Troy's dying brave were mustered there.
There we beheld the war-god unconfined; The Greek besiegers to the roof-tops fled; or, with shields tortoise-back, the gates assailed. Ladders were on the walls; and round by round, up the huge bulwark as they fight their way, the shielded left-hand thwarts the falling spears, the right to every vantage closely clings. The Trojans hurl whole towers and roof-tops down upon the mounting foe; for well they see that the last hour is come, and with what arms the dying must resist. Rich gilded beams, with many a beauteous blazon of old time,
go crashing down. Men armed with naked swords defend the inner doors in close array. Thus were our hearts inflamed to stand and strike for the king's house, and to his body-guard bring succor, and renew their vanquished powers. A certain gate I knew, a secret way, which gave free passage between Priam's halls, and exit rearward; hither, in the days before our fall, the lone Andromache was wont with young Astyanax to pass in quest of Priam and her husband's kin. This way to climb the palace roof I flew,
where, desperate, the Trojans with vain skill hurled forth repellent arms. A tower was there, reared skyward from the roof-top, giving view of Troy's wide walls and full reconnaissance of all Achaea's fleets and tented field; this, with strong steel, our gathered strength assailed, and as the loosened courses offered us great threatening fissures, we uprooted it from its aerial throne and thrust it down. It fell with instantaneous crash of thunder along the Danaan host in ruin wide. But fresh ranks soon arrive; thick showers of stone
rain down, with every missile rage can find. Now at the threshold of the outer court Pyrrhus triumphant stood, with glittering arms and helm of burnished brass. He glittered like some swollen viper, fed on poison-leaves, whom chilling winter shelters underground, till, fresh and strong, he sheds his annual scales and, crawling forth rejuvenate, uncoils his slimy length; his lifted gorge insults the sunbeam with three-forked and quivering tongue. Huge Periphas was there; Automedon, who drove Achilles' steeds, and bore his arms.
Then Scyros' island-warriors assault the palaces, and hurl reiterate fire at wall and tower. Pyrrhus led the van; seizing an axe he clove the ponderous doors and rent the hinges from their posts of bronze; he cut the beams, and through the solid mass burrowed his way, till like a window huge the breach yawned wide, and opened to his gaze a vista of long courts and corridors, the hearth and home of many an ancient king, and Priam's own; upon its sacred bourne the sentry, all in arms, kept watch and ward.
Confusion, groans, and piteous turmoil were in that dwelling; women shrieked and wailed from many a dark retreat, and their loud cry rang to the golden stars. Through those vast halls the panic-stricken mothers wildly roved, and clung with frantic kisses and embrace unto the columns cold. Fierce as his sire, Pyrrhus moves on; nor bar nor sentinel may stop his way; down tumbles the great door beneath the battering beam, and with it fall hinges and framework violently torn. Force bursts all bars; th' assailing Greeks break in,
do butchery, and with men-at-arms possess what place they will. Scarce with an equal rage a foaming river, when its dykes are down, o'erwhelms its mounded shores, and through the plain rolls mountain-high, while from the ravaged farms its fierce flood sweeps along both flock and fold. My own eyes looked on Neoptolemus frenzied with slaughter, and both Atreus' sons upon the threshold frowning; I beheld her hundred daughters with old Hecuba; and Priam, whose own bleeding wounds defiled the altars where himself had blessed the fires;
there fifty nuptial beds gave promise proud of princely heirs; but all their brightness now, of broidered cunning and barbaric gold, lay strewn and trampled on. The Danaan foe stood victor, where the raging flame had failed. But would ye haply know what stroke of doom on Priam fell? Now when his anguish saw his kingdom lost and fallen, his abode shattered, and in his very hearth and home th' exulting foe, the aged King did bind his rusted armor to his trembling thews,— all vainly,— and a useless blade of steel
he girded on; then charged, resolved to die encircled by the foe. Within his walls there stood, beneath the wide and open sky, a lofty altar; an old laurel-tree leaned o'er it, and enclasped in holy shade the statues of the tutelary powers. Here Hecuba and all the princesses took refuge vain within the place of prayer. Like panic-stricken doves in some dark storm, close-gathering they sate, and in despair embraced their graven gods. But when the Queen saw Priam with his youthful harness on,
“What frenzy, O my wretched lord,” she cried, “Arrayed thee in such arms? O, whither now? Not such defences, nor such arm as thine, the time requires, though thy companion were our Hector's self. O, yield thee, I implore! This altar now shall save us one and all, or we must die together.” With these words she drew him to her side, and near the shrine made for her aged spouse a place to cling. But, lo! just 'scaped of Pyrrhus' murderous hand, Polites, one of Priam's sons, fled fast along the corridors, through thronging foes
and a thick rain of spears. Wildly he gazed across the desolate halls, wounded to death. Fierce Pyrrhus followed after, pressing hard with mortal stroke, and now his hand and spear were close upon:— when the lost youth leaped forth into his father's sight, and prostrate there lay dying, while his life-blood ebbed away. Then Priam, though on all sides death was nigh, quit not the strife, nor from loud wrath refrained: “Thy crime and impious outrage, may the gods (if Heaven to mortals render debt and due) justly reward and worthy honors pay!
My own son's murder thou hast made me see, blood and pollution impiously throwing upon a father's head. Not such was he, not such, Achilles, thy pretended sire, when Priam was his foe. With flush of shame he nobly listened to a suppliant's plea in honor made. He rendered to the tomb my Hector's body pale, and me did send back to my throne a king.” With this proud word the aged warrior hurled with nerveless arm his ineffectual spear, which hoarsely rang rebounding on the brazen shield, and hung
piercing the midmost boss,- but all in vain. Then Pyrrhus: “Take these tidings, and convey message to my father, Peleus' son! tell him my naughty deeds! Be sure and say how Neoptolemus hath shamed his sires. Now die!” With this, he trailed before the shrines the trembling King, whose feet slipped in the stream of his son's blood. Then Pyrrhus' left hand clutched the tresses old and gray; a glittering sword his right hand lifted high, and buried it far as the hilt in that defenceless heart. So Priam's story ceased. Such final doom
fell on him, while his dying eyes surveyed Troy burning, and her altars overthrown, though once of many an orient land and tribe the boasted lord. In huge dismemberment his severed trunk lies tombless on the shore, the head from shoulder torn, the corpse unknown. Then first wild horror on my spirit fell and dazed me utterly. A vision rose of my own cherished father, as I saw the King, his aged peer, sore wounded Iying in mortal agony; a vision too of lost Creusa at my ravaged hearth,
and young Iulus' peril. Then my eyes looked round me seeking aid. But all were fled, war-wearied and undone; some earthward leaped from battlement or tower; some in despair yielded their suffering bodies to the flame. I stood there sole surviving; when, behold, to Vesta's altar clinging in dumb fear, hiding and crouching in the hallowed shade, Tyndarus' daughter!— 't was the burning town lighted full well my roving steps and eyes. In fear was she both of some Trojan's rage for Troy o'erthrown, and of some Greek revenge,
or her wronged husband's Iong indignant ire. So hid she at that shrine her hateful brow, being of Greece and Troy, full well she knew, the common curse. Then in my bosom rose a blaze of wrath; methought I should avenge my dying country, and with horrid deed pay crime for crime. “Shall she return unscathed to Sparta, to Mycenae's golden pride, and have a royal triumph? Shall her eyes her sire and sons, her hearth and husband see, while Phrygian captives follow in her train? is Priam murdered? Have the flames swept o'er
my native Troy? and cloth our Dardan strand sweat o'er and o'er with sanguinary dew? O, not thus unavenged! For though there be no glory if I smite a woman's crime, nor conqueror's fame for such a victory won, yet if I blot this monster out, and wring full punishment from guilt, the time to come will praise me, and sweet pleasure it will be to glut my soul with vengeance and appease the ashes of my kindred.”So I raved, and to such frenzied purpose gave my soul. Then with clear vision (never had I seen
her presence so unclouded) I beheld, in golden beams that pierced the midnight gloom, my gracious mother, visibly divine, and with that mien of majesty she wears when seen in heaven; she stayed me with her hand, and from her lips of rose this counsel gave: “O son, what sorrow stirs thy boundless rage? what madness this? Or whither vanisheth thy love of me? Wilt thou not seek to know where bides Anchises, thy abandoned sire, now weak with age? or if Creusa lives and young Ascanius, who are ringed about
with ranks of Grecian foes, and long ere this— save that my love can shield them and defend— had fallen on flame or fed some hungry sword? Not Helen's hated beauty works thee woe; nor Paris, oft-accused. The cruelty of gods, of gods unaided, overwhelms thy country's power, and from its Iofty height casts Ilium down. Behold, I take away the barrier-cloud that dims thy mortal eye, with murk and mist o'er-veiling. Fear not thou to heed thy mother's word, nor let thy heart refuse obedience to her counsel given.
'Mid yonder trembling ruins, where thou see'st stone torn from stone, with dust and smoke uprolling, 't is Neptune strikes the wall; his trident vast makes her foundation tremble, and unseats the city from her throne. Fierce Juno leads resistless onset at the Scaean gate, and summons from the ships the league of powers, wearing her wrathful sword. On yonder height behold Tritonia in the citadel clothed with the lightning and her Gorgon-shield! Unto the Greeks great Jove himself renews their courage and their power; 't is he thrusts on
the gods themselves against the Trojan arms. Fly, O my son! The war's wild work give o'er! I will be always nigh and set thee safe upon thy father's threshold.” Having said, she fled upon the viewless night away. Then loomed o'er Troy the apparition vast of her dread foes divine; I seemed to see all Ilium sink in fire, and sacred Troy, of Neptune's building, utterly o'erthrown. So some huge ash-tree on the mountain's brow (when rival woodmen, heaving stroke on stroke of two-edged axes, haste to cast her down)
sways ominously her trembling, leafy top, and drops her smitten head; till by her wounds vanquished at last, she makes her dying groan, and falls in loud wreck from the cliffs uptorn. I left the citadel; and, led by Heaven, threaded the maze of deadly foes and fires, through spears that glanced aside and flames that fell. Soon came I to my father's ancient seat, our home and heritage. But lo! my sire (whom first of all I sought, and first would bear to safe asylum in the distant hills) vowed he could never, after fallen Troy,
live longer on, or bear an exile's woe. “O you,” he cried, “whose blood not yet betrays the cruel taint of time, whose powers be still unpropped and undecayed, go, take your flight. If heavenly wrath had willed my life to spare, this dwelling had been safe. It is too much that I have watched one wreck, and for too Iong outlived my vanquished country. Thus, O, thus! Compose these limbs for death, and say farewell. My own hand will procure it; or my foe will end me of mere pity, and for spoil will strip me bare. It is an easy loss
to have no grave. For many a year gone by, accursed of Heaven, I tarry in this world a useless burden, since that fatal hour when Jove, of gods the Sire and men the King, his lightnings o'er me breathed and blasting fire.” Such fixed resolve he uttered o'er and o'er, and would not yield, though with my tears did join my spouse Creusa, fair Ascanius, and our whole house, imploring the gray sire not with himself to ruin all, nor add yet heavier burdens to our crushing doom. He still cried, “No!” and clung to where he sat
and to the same dread purpose. I once more back to the fight would speed. For death alone I made my wretched prayer. What space was left for wisdom now? What chance or hope was given? “Didst thou, dear father, dream that I could fly sundered from thee? Did such an infamy fall from a father's lips? If Heaven's decree will of this mighty nation not let live a single soul, if thine own purpose be to cast thyself and thy posterity into thy country's grave, behold, the door is open to thy death! Lo, Pyrrhus comes
red-handed from King Priam! He has slain a son before a father's eyes, and spilt a father's blood upon his own hearthstone. Was it for this, O heavenly mother mine, that thou hast brought me safe through sword and fire? that I might see these altars desecrate by their worst foes? that I might look upon my sire, my wife, and sweet Ascanius dead at my feet in one another's blood? To arms, my men, to arms! The hour of death now beckons to the vanquished. Let me go whither the Greeks are gathered; let me stand
where oft revives the flagging stroke of war: Not all of us die unavenged this day!” I clasped my sword-belt round me once again, fitted my left arm to my shield, and turned to fly the house; but at the threshold clung Creusa to my knees, and lifted up Iulus to his father's arms. “If thou wouldst rush on death,” she cried, “O, suffer us to share thy perils with thee to the end. But if this day's work bid thee trust a sword, defend thy hearthstone first. Who else shall guard thy babe Iulus, or thy reverend sire?
Or me, thy wife that was—what help have I?” So rang the roof-top with her piteous cries: but lo! a portent wonderful to see on sudden rose; for while his parents' grief held the boy close in arm and full in view, there seemed upon Iulus' head to glow a flickering peak of fire; the tongue of flame innocuous o'er his clustering tresses played, and hovered round his brows. We, horror-struck, grasped at his burning hair, and sprinkled him, to quench that holy and auspicious fire. then sire Anchises with exultant eyes
looked heavenward, and lifted to the stars his voice and outstretched hands. “Almighty Jove, if aught of prayer may move thee, let thy grace now visit us! O, hear this holy vow! And if for service at thine altars done, we aught can claim, O Father, lend us aid, and ratify the omen thou hast given!” Scarce ceased his aged voice, when suddenly from leftward, with a deafening thunder-peal, cleaving the blackness of the vaulted sky, a meteor-star in trailing splendor ran, exceeding bright. We watched it glide sublime
o'er tower and town, until its radiant beam in forest-mantled Ida died away; but left a furrow on its track in air, a glittering, Iong line, while far and wide the sulphurous fume and exhalation flowed. My father strove not now; but lifted him in prayer to all the gods, in holy awe of that auspicious star, and thus exclaimed: “Tarry no moment more! Behold, I come! Whithersoe'er ye lead, my steps obey. Gods of my fathers, O, preserve our name! Preserve my son, and his! This augury
is yours; and Troy on your sole strength relies. I yield, dear son; I journey at thy side.” He spoke; and higher o'er the blazing walls leaped the loud fire, while ever nearer drew the rolling surges of tumultuous flame. “Haste, father, on these bending shoulders climb! This back is ready, and the burden light; one peril smites us both, whate'er befall; one rescue both shall find. Close at my side let young Iulus run, while, not too nigh, my wife Creusa heeds what way we go. Ye servants of our house, give ear, I pray,
to my command. Outside the city's gates lies a low mound and long since ruined fane to Ceres vowed; a cypress, ancient shade o'erhangs it, which our fathers' pious care protected year by year; by various paths be that our meeting-place. But in thy hands bring, sire, our household gods, and sanctifies: for me to touch, who come this very hour from battle and the fresh blood of the slain, were but abomination, till what time in living waters I shall make me clean.” So saying, I bowed my neck and shoulders broad,
o'erspread me with a lion's tawny skin, and lifted up my load. Close at my side little Iulus twined his hand in mine and followed, with unequal step, his sire. My wife at distance came. We hastened on, creeping through shadows; I, who once had viewed undaunted every instrument of war and all the gathered Greeks in grim array, now shook at every gust, and heard all sounds with fevered trepidation, fearing both for him I bore and him who clasped my hand. Now near the gates I drew, and deemed our flight
safely at end, when suddenly I heard the sounding tread of many warriors that seemed hard-by, while through the murky night my father peered, and shouted, “O my son, away, away! for surely all our foes are here upon us, and my eyes behold the glance of glittering shields and flash of arms.” O, then some evil-working, nameless god clouded my senses quite: for while I sped along our pathless way, and left behind all paths and regions known—O wretched me!— Creusa on some dark disaster fell;
she stopped, or wandered, or sank down undone,— I never knew what way,—and nevermore I looked on her alive. Yet knew I not my loss, nor backward turned a look or thought, till by that hallowed hill to Ceres vowed we gathered all,— and she alone came not, while husband, friends, and son made search in vain. What god, what man, did not my grief accuse in frenzied word? In all the ruined land what worse woe had I seen? Entrusting then my sire, my son, and all the Teucrian gods to the deep shadows of a slanting vale
where my allies kept guard, I tried me back to that doomed town, re-girt in glittering arms. Resolved was I all hazards to renew, all Troy to re-explore, and once again offer my life to perils without end. The walls and gloomy gates whence forth I came I first revisit, and retrace my way, searching the night once more. On all sides round horror spread wide; the very silence breathed a terror on my soul. I hastened then back to my fallen home, if haply there her feet had strayed; but the invading Greeks
were its possessors, though the hungry fire was blown along the roof-tree, and the flames rolled raging upward on the fitful gale. To Priam's house I haste, and climb once more the citadel; in Juno's temple there, the chosen guardians of her wasted halls, Phoenix and dread Ulysses watched the spoil. Here, snatched away from many a burning fane, Troy's treasures lay,—rich tables for the gods, thick bowls of messy gold, and vestures rare, confusedly heaped up, while round the pile fair youths and trembling virgins stood forlorn.
Yet oft my voice rang dauntless through the gloom, from street to street I cried with anguish vain; and on Creusa piteously calling, woke the lamenting echoes o'er and o'er. While on this quest I roamed the city through, of reason reft there rose upon my sight— O shape of sorrow!— my Creusa's ghost, hers truly, though a loftier port it wore. I quailed, my hair rose, and I gasped for fear; but thus she spoke, and soothed my grief away: “Why to these frenzied sorrows bend thy soul, O husband ever dear! The will of Heaven
hath brought all this to pass. Fate doth not send Creusa the long journeys thou shalt take, or hath th' Olympian King so given decree. Long is thy banishment; thy ship must plough the vast, far-spreading sea. Then shalt thou come unto Hesperia, whose fruitful plains are watered by the Tiber, Lydian stream, of smooth, benignant Bow. Thou shalt obtain fair fortunes, and a throne and royal bride. For thy beloved Creusa weep no more! No Myrmidon's proud palace waits me now; Dolopian shall not scorn, nor Argive dames
command a slave of Dardan's royal stem and wife to Venus' son. On these loved shores the Mother of the Gods compels my stay. Farewell! farewell! O, cherish evermore thy son and mine!” Her utterance scarce had ceased, when, as I strove through tears to make reply, she left me, and dissolved in empty air. Thrice would my frustrate arms her form enfold; thrice from the clasp of hand that vision fled, like wafted winds and like a fleeting dream. The night had passed, and to my friends once more I made my way, much wondering to find
a mighty multitude assembled there of friends new-come,—matrons and men-at-arms, and youth for exile bound,— a doleful throng. From far and near they drew, their hearts prepared and their possessions gathered, to sail forth to lands unknown, wherever o'er the wave I bade them follow. Now above the crest of loftiest Ida rose the morning-star, chief in the front of day. The Greeks held fast the captive gates of Troy. No help or hope was ours any more. Then, yielding all, and lifting once again my aged sire,
for refuge to the distant hills I fled.
Book 3
When Asia's power and Priam's race and throne, though guiltless, were cast down by Heaven's decree, when Ilium proud had fallen, and Neptune's Troy in smouldering ash lay level with the ground, to wandering exile then and regions wild the gods by many an augury and sign compelled us forth. We fashioned us a fleet within Antander's haven, in the shade of Phrygian Ida's peak (though knowing not whither our fate would drive, or where afford a resting-place at last), and my small band of warriors I arrayed. As soon as smiled
the light of summer's prime, my reverend sire Anchises bade us on the winds of Fate to spread all sail. Through tears I saw recede my native shore, the haven and the plains where once was Troy. An exile on the seas, with son and followers and household shrines, and Troy's great guardian-gods, I took my way. There is a far-off land where warriors breed, where Thracians till the boundless plains, and where the cruel-eyed Lycurgus once was king. Troy's old ally it was, its deities had brotherhood with ours before our fall.
Thither I fared, and on its winding shores set my first walls, though partial Fate opposed our entrance there. In memory of my name I called its people the Aeneadae. Unto Dione's daughter, and all gods who blessed our young emprise, due gifts were paid; and unto the supreme celestial King I slew a fair white bull beside the sea. But haply near my place of sacrifice a mound was seen, and on the summit grew a copse of corner and a myrtle tree, with spear-like limbs outbranched on every side.
This I approached, and tried to rend away from its deep roots that grove of gloomy green, and dress my altars in its leafy boughs. But, horrible to tell, a prodigy smote my astonished eyes: for the first tree, which from the earth with broken roots I drew, dripped black with bloody drops, and gave the ground dark stains of gore. Cold horror shook my frame, and every vein within me froze for fear. Once more I tried from yet another stock the pliant stem to tear, and to explore the mystery within,—but yet again
the foul bark oozed with clots of blackest gore! From my deep-shaken soul I made a prayer to all the woodland nymphs and to divine Gradivus, patron of the Thracian plain, to bless this sight, to lift its curse away. But when at a third sheaf of myrtle spears I fell upon my knees, and tugged amain against the adverse ground (I dread to tell!), a moaning and a wail from that deep grave burst forth and murmured in my listening ear: “Why wound me, great Aeneas, in my woe? O, spare the dead, nor let thy holy hands
do sacrilege and sin! I, Trojan-born, was kin of thine. This blood is not of trees. Haste from this murderous shore, this land of greed. O, I am Polydorus! Haste away! Here was I pierced; a crop of iron spears has grown up o'er my breast, and multiplied to all these deadly javelins, keen and strong.” Then stood I, burdened with dark doubt and fear I quailed, my hair rose and my utterance choked. For once this Polydorus, with much gold, ill-fated Priam sent by stealth away for nurture with the Thracian king, what time
Dardania's war Iooked hopeless, and her towers were ringed about by unrelenting siege. That king, when Ilium's cause was ebbing low, and fortune frowned, gave o'er his plighted faith to Agamemnon's might and victory; he scorned all honor and did murder foul on Polydorus, seizing lawlessly on all the gold. O, whither at thy will, curst greed of gold, may mortal hearts be driven? Soon as my shuddering ceased, I told this tale of prodigies before the people's chiefs, who sat in conclave with my kingly sire,
and bade them speak their reverend counsel forth. All found one voice; to leave that land of sin, where foul abomination had profaned a stranger's right; and once more to resign our fleet unto the tempest and the wave. But fit and solemn funeral rites were paid to Polydorus. A high mound we reared of heaped-up earth, and to his honored shade built a perpetual altar, sadly dressed in cypress dark and purple pall of woe. Our Ilian women wailed with loosened hair; new milk was sprinkled from a foaming cup,
and from the shallow bowl fresh blood out-poured upon the sacred ground. So in its tomb we laid his ghost to rest, and loudly sang, with prayer for peace, the long, the last farewell. After these things, when first the friendly sea looked safe and fair, and o'er its tranquil plain light-whispering breezes bade us launch away, my men drew down our galleys to the brine, thronging the shore. Soon out of port we ran, and watched the hills and cities fading far. There is a sacred island in mid-seas, to fruitful Doris and to Neptune dear,
which grateful Phoebus, wielder of the bow, the while it drifted loose from land to land, chained firmly where the crags of Gyaros and Myconos uptower, and bade it rest immovable, in scorn of wind and wave. Thither I sped; by this my weary ships found undisturbed retreat and haven fair. To land we came and saw with reverent eyes Apollo's citadel. King Anius, his people's king, and priest at Phoebus' fane, came forth to meet us, wearing on his brow the fillets and a holy laurel crown.
Unto Anchises he gave greeting kind, claimed old acquaintance, grasped us by the hand, and bade us both his roof and welcome share. Then, kneeling at the shrine of time-worn stone: “Thou who at Thymbra on the Trojan shore hast often blessed my prayer, O, give to me a hearth and home, and to this war-worn band defensive towers and offspring multiplied in an abiding city; give to Troy a second citadel, that shall survive Achilles' wrath and all our Argive foe. Whom shall we follow? Whither lies our way?
Where wilt thou grant us an abiding-place? Send forth, O King, thy voice oracular, and on our spirits move.” Scarce had I spoke when sudden trembling through the laurels ran and smote the holy portals; far and wide the mighty ridges of the mountain shook, and from the opening shrine the tripod moaned. Prostrate to earth we fall, as on our ears this utterance breaks: “O breed of iron men, ye sons of Dardanus! the self-same land where bloomed at first your far-descended stem shall to its bounteous bosom draw ye home.
Seek out your ancient Mother! There at last Aeneas' race shall reign on every shore, and his sons' sons, and all their house to be.” So Phoebus spoke; and mighty joy uprose from all my thronging people, who would know where Phoebus' city lay, and whitherward the god ordained the wandering tribe's return. Then spake my father, pondering olden days and sacred memories of heroes gone: “Hear, chiefs and princes, what your hopes shall be! The Isle of Crete, abode of lofty Jove, rests in the middle sea. Thence Ida soars;
there is the cradle of our race. It boasts a hundred cities, seats of fruitful power. Thence our chief sire, if duly I recall the olden tale, King Teucer sprung, who first touched on the Trojan shore, and chose his seat of kingly power. There was no Ilium then nor towered Pergama; in lowly vales their dwelling; hence the ancient worship given to the Protectress of Mount Cybele, mother of Gods, what time in Ida's grove the brazen Corybantic cymbals clang, or sacred silence guards her mystery,
and lions yoked her royal chariot draw. Up, then, and follow the behests divine! Pour offering to the winds, and point your keels unto that realm of Minos. It is near. if Jove but bless, the third day's dawn should see our ships at Cretan land.” So, having said, he slew the victims for each altar's praise. A bull to Neptune, and a bull to thee, o beauteous Apollo! A black lamb unto the clouds and storms; but fleece of snow to the mild zephyrs was our offering. The tale was told us that Idomeneus,
from his hereditary kindgom driven, had left his Crete abandoned, that no foe now harbored there, but all its dwellings lay untenanted of man. So forth we sailed out of the port of Delos, and sped far along the main. The maenad-haunted hills of Naxos came in view; the ridges green of fair Donysa, with Olearos, and Paros, gleaming white, and Cyclades scattered among the waves, as close we ran where thick-strewn islands vex the channelled seas with rival shout the sailors cheerly called:
“On, comrades! On, to Crete and to our sires!” Freely behind us blew the friendly winds, and gave smooth passage to that fabled shore, the land of the Curetes, friends of Jove. There eagerly I labored at the walls of our long-prayed-for city; and its name was Pergamea; to my Trojan band, pleased with such name, I gave command to build altar and hearth, and raise the lofty tower. But scarce the ships were beached along the strand (While o'er the isle my busy mariners ploughed in new fields and took them wives once more, —
I giving homes and laws) when suddenly a pestilence from some infectious sky seized on man's flesh, and horribly exhaled o'er trees and crops a fatal year of plague. Some breathed their last, while others weak and worn lived on; the dog-star parched the barren fields; grass withered, and the sickly, mouldering corn refused us life. My aged father then bade us re-cross the waves and re-implore Apollo's mercy at his island shrine; if haply of our weariness and woe he might vouchsafe the end, or bid us find
help for our task, or guidance o'er the sea. 'T was night, and sleep possessed all breathing things; when, lo! the sacred effigies divine, the Phrygian gods which through the flames I bore from fallen Troy, seemed in a vision clear to stand before me where I slumbering lay, bathed in bright beams which from the moon at full streamed through the latticed wall: and thus they spoke to soothe my care away. “Apollo's word, which in far Delos the god meant for thee, is uttered here. Behold, he sends ourselves to this thy house, before thy prayer is made.
We from Troy's ashes have companioned thee in every fight; and we the swollen seas, guided by thee, in thine own ships have crossed; our power divine shall set among the stars thy seed to be, and to thy city give dominion evermore. For mighty men go build its mighty walls! Seek not to shun the hard, long labors of an exile's way. Change this abode! Not thine this Cretan shore, nor here would Delian Phoebus have thee bide. There is a land the roving Greeks have named Hesperia. It is a storied realm
made mighty by great wars and fruitful land. Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said, have called it Italy, a chieftain's name to a whole region given. That land alone our true abode can be; for Dardanus was cradled there, and old Iasius, their blood the oldest of our ancient line. Arise! go forth and cheer thy father gray with the glad tidings! Bid him doubt no more! Ausonia seek and Corythus; for Jove denies this Cretan realm to thine and thee.” I marvelled at the heavenly presences
so vocal and so bright, for 't was not sleep; but face to face I deemed I could discern each countenance august and holy brow, each mantled head; and from my body ran cold sweat of awe. From my low couch I sprang, lifting to heaven my suppliant hands and prayer, and o'er my hearth poured forth libations free. After th' auspicious offering, I told Anchises the whole tale in order due. He owned our stock two-branched, of our great sires the twofold line, and that his thought had strayed, in new confusion mingling ancient names;
then spoke: “O son, in Ilium's doom severe afflicted ever! To my ears alone this dark vicissitude Cassandra sang. I mind me now that her wild tongue foretold such destiny. For oft she called aloud ‘Hesperia!’ oft ‘Italia's kingdom!’ called. But who had faith that Teucer's sons should come to far Hesperia? What mortal ear gave heed to sad Cassandra's voice divine? Now Phoebus speaks. Obedient let us be, and, warned by him, our happier Iot pursue!” He spoke: with heart of hope we all obeyed;
again we changed abode; and, leaving there a feeble few, again with spreading sails we coursed in hollow ship the spacious sea. When from the deep the shores had faded far, and only sky and sea were round our way, full in the zenith hung a purple cloud, storm-laden, dark as night, and every wave grew black and angry, while perpetual gales came rolling o'er the main, and mountain-high the wreckful surges rose; our ships were hurled wide o'er the whirling waters; thunder-clouds and misty murk of night made end of all
the light of heaven, save where the rifted storm flashed with the oft-reiterate shaft of Jove. Then went we drifting, beaten from our course, upon a trackless sea. Not even the eyes of Palinurus could tell night from noon or ken our way. Three days of blinding dark, three nights without a star, we roved the seas; The fourth, land seemed to rise. Far distant hills and rolling smoke we saw. Down came our sails, out flew the oars, and with prompt stroke the crews swept the dark waves and tossed the crested foam. From such sea-peril safe, I made the shores
of Strophades,—a name the Grecians gave to islands in the broad Ionic main, — the Strophades, where dread Celaeno bides, with other Harpies, who had quit the halls of stricken Phineus, and for very fear fled from the routed feast; no prodigy more vile than these, nor plague more pitiless ere rose by wrath divine from Stygian wave; birds seem they, but with face like woman-kind; foul-flowing bellies, hands with crooked claws, and ghastly lips they have, with hunger pale. Scarce had we made the haven, when, behold!
Fair herds of cattle roaming a wide plain, and horned goats, untended, feeding free in pastures green, surprised our happy eyes. with eager blades we ran to take and slay, asking of every god, and chicfly Jove, to share the welcome prize: we ranged a feast, with turf-built couches and a banquet-board along the curving strand. But in a trice, down from the high hills swooping horribly, the Harpies loudly shrieking, flapped their wings, snatched at our meats, and with infectious touch polluted all; infernal was their cry,
the stench most vile. Once more in covert far beneath a caverned rock, and close concealed with trees and branching shade, we raised aloft our tables, altars, and rekindled fires. Once more from haunts unknown the clamorous flock from every quarter flew, and seized its prey with taloned feet and carrion lip most foul. I called my mates to arms and opened war on that accursed brood. My band obeyed; and, hiding in deep grass their swords and shields, in ambush lay. But presently the foe swept o'er the winding shore with loud alarm :
then from a sentry-crag, Misenus blew a signal on his hollow horn. My men flew to the combat strange, and fain would wound with martial steel those foul birds of the sea; but on their sides no wounding blade could fall, nor any plume be marred. In swiftest flight to starry skies they soared, and left on earth their half-gnawed, stolen feast, and footprints foul. Celaeno only on a beetling crag took lofty perch, and, prophetess of ill, shrieked malediction from her vulture breast: “Because of slaughtered kine and ravished herd,
sons of Laomedon, have ye made war? And will ye from their rightful kingdom drive the guiltless Harpies? Hear, O, hear my word (Long in your bosoms may it rankle sore!) which Jove omnipotent to Phoebus gave, Phoebus to me: a word of doom, which I, the Furies' elder sister, here unfold: ‘To Italy ye fare. The willing winds your call have heard; and ye shall have your prayer in some Italian haven safely moored. But never shall ye rear the circling walls of your own city, till for this our blood
by you unjustly spilt, your famished jaws bite at your tables, aye,—and half devour.’” She spoke: her pinions bore her to the grove, and she was seen no more. But all my band shuddered with shock of fear in each cold vein; their drooping spirits trusted swords no more, but turned to prayers and offerings, asking grace, scarce knowing if those creatures were divine, or but vast birds, ill-omened and unclean. Father Anchises to the gods in heaven uplifted suppliant hands, and on that shore due ritual made, crying aloud; “Ye gods
avert this curse, this evil turn away! Smile, Heaven, upon your faithful votaries.” Then bade he launch away, the chain undo, set every cable free and spread all sail. O'er the white waves we flew, and took our way where'er the helmsman or the winds could guide. Now forest-clad Zacynthus met our gaze, engirdled by the waves; Dulichium, same, and Neritos, a rocky steep, uprose. We passed the cliffs of Ithaca that called Laertes king, and flung our curse on fierce Ulysses' hearth and native land.
nigh hoar Leucate's clouded crest we drew, where Phoebus' temple, feared by mariners, loomed o'er us; thitherward we steered and reached the little port and town. Our weary fleet dropped anchor, and lay beached along the strand. So, safe at land, our hopeless peril past, we offered thanks to Jove, and kindled high his altars with our feast and sacrifice; then, gathering on Actium's holy shore, made fair solemnities of pomp and game. My youth, anointing their smooth, naked limbs, wrestled our wonted way. For glad were we,
who past so many isles of Greece had sped and 'scaped our circling foes. Now had the sun rolled through the year's full circle, and the waves were rough with icy winter's northern gales. I hung for trophy on that temple door a swelling shield of brass (which once was worn by mighty Abas) graven with this line: SPOIL OF AENEAS FROM TRIUMPHANT FOES. Then from that haven I command them forth; my good crews take the thwarts, smiting the sea with rival strokes, and skim the level main. Soon sank Phaeacia's wind-swept citadels
out of our view; we skirted the bold shores of proud Epirus, in Chaonian land, and made Buthrotum's port and towering town. Here wondrous tidings met us, that the son of Priam, Helenus, held kingly sway o'er many Argive cities, having wed the Queen of Pyrrhus, great Achilles' son, and gained his throne; and that Andromache once more was wife unto a kindred lord. Amazement held me; all my bosom burned to see the hero's face and hear this tale of strange vicissitude. So up I climbed,
leaving the haven, fleet, and friendly shore. That self-same hour outside the city walls, within a grove where flowed the mimic stream of a new Simois, Andromache, with offerings to the dead, and gifts of woe, poured forth libation, and invoked the shade of Hector, at a tomb which her fond grief had consecrated to perpetual tears, though void; a mound of fair green turf it stood, and near it rose twin altars to his name. She saw me drawing near; our Trojan helms met her bewildered eyes, and, terror-struck
at the portentous sight, she swooning fell and lay cold, rigid, lifeless, till at last, scarce finding voice, her lips addressed me thus : “Have I true vision? Bringest thou the word Of truth, O goddess-born? Art still in flesh? Or if sweet light be fled, my Hector, where?” With flood of tears she spoke, and all the grove reechoed to her cry. Scarce could I frame brief answer to her passion, but replied with broken voice and accents faltering: “I live, 't is true. I lengthen out my days through many a desperate strait. But O, believe
that what thine eyes behold is vision true. Alas! what lot is thine, that wert unthroned from such a husband's side? What after-fate could give thee honor due? Andromache, once Hector's wife, is Pyrrhus still thy lord?” With drooping brows and lowly voice she cried : “O, happy only was that virgin blest, daughter of Priam, summoned forth to die in sight of Ilium, on a foeman's tomb! No casting of the lot her doom decreed, nor came she to her conqueror's couch a slave. Myself from burning Ilium carried far
o'er seas and seas, endured the swollen pride of that young scion of Achilles' race, and bore him as his slave a son. When he sued for Hermione, of Leda's line, and nuptial-bond with Lacedaemon's Iords, I, the slave-wife, to Helenus was given, and slave was wed with slave. But afterward Orestes, crazed by loss of her he loved, and ever fury-driven from crime to crime, crept upon Pyrrhus in a careless hour and murdered him upon his own hearth-stone. Part of the realm of Neoptolemus
fell thus to Helenus, who called his lands Chaonian, and in Trojan Chaon's name his kingdom is Chaonia. Yonder height is Pergamus, our Ilian citadel. What power divine did waft thee to our shore, not knowing whither? Tell me of the boy Ascanius! Still breathes he earthly air? In Troy she bore him—is he mourning still that mother ravished from his childhood's eyes? what ancient valor stirs the manly soul of thine own son, of Hector's sister's child?” Thus poured she forth full many a doleful word
with unavailing tears. But as she ceased, out of the city gates appeared the son of Priam, Helenus, with princely train. He welcomed us as kin, and glad at heart gave guidance to his house, though oft his words fell faltering and few, with many a tear. Soon to a humbler Troy I lift my eyes, and of a mightier Pergamus discern the towering semblance; there a scanty stream runs on in Xanthus' name, and my glad arms the pillars of a Scaean gate embrace. My Teucrian mariners with welcome free
enjoyed the friendly town; his ample halls our royal host threw wide; full wine-cups flowed within the palace; golden feast was spread, and many a goblet quaffed. Day followed day, while favoring breezes beckoned us to sea, and swelled the waiting canvas as they blew. Then to the prophet-priest I made this prayer: “Offspring of Troy, interpreter of Heaven! Who knowest Phoebus' power, and readest well the tripod, stars, and vocal laurel leaves to Phoebus dear, who know'st of every bird the ominous swift wing or boding song,
o, speak! For all my course good omens showed, and every god admonished me to sail in quest of Italy's far-distant shores; but lone Celaeno, heralding strange woe, foretold prodigious horror, vengeance dark, and vile, unnatural hunger. How elude such perils? Or by what hard duty done may such huge host of evils vanquished be?” Then Helenus, with sacrifice of kine in order due, implored the grace of Heaven, unloosed the fillets from his sacred brow, and led me, Phoebus, to thy temple's door,
awed by th' o'er-brooding godhead, whose true priest, with lips inspired, made this prophetic song: “O goddess-born, indubitably shines the blessing of great gods upon thy path across the sea; the heavenly King supreme thy destiny ordains; 't is he unfolds the grand vicissitude, which now pursues a course immutable. I will declare of thy large fate a certain bounded part; that fearless thou may'st view the friendly sea, and in Ausonia's haven at the last find thee a fixed abode. Than this no more
the Sister Fates to Helenus unveil, and Juno, Saturn's daughter, grants no more. First, that Italia (which nigh at hand thou deemest, and wouldst fondly enter in by yonder neighboring bays) lies distant far o'er trackless course and long, with interval of far-extended lands. Thine oars must ply the waves of Sicily; thy fleet must cleave the large expanse of that Ausonian brine; the waters of Avernus thou shalt see, and that enchanted island where abides Aeaean Circe, ere on tranquil shore
thou mayest plant thy nation. Lo! a sign I tell thee; hide this wonder in thy heart: Beside a certain stream's sequestered wave, thy troubled eyes, in shadowy flex grove that fringes on the river, shall descry a milk-white, monstrous sow, with teeming brood of thirty young, new littered, white like her, all clustering at her teats, as prone she lies. There is thy city's safe, predestined ground, and there thy labors' end. Vex not thy heart about those ‘tables bitten’, for kind fate thy path will show, and Phoebus bless thy prayer.
But from these lands and yon Italian shore, where from this sea of ours the tide sweeps in, escape and flee, for all its cities hold pernicious Greeks, thy foes: the Locri there have builded walls; the wide Sallentine fields are filled with soldiers of Idomeneus; there Meliboean Philoctetes' town, petilia, towers above its little wall. Yea, even when thy fleet has crossed the main, and from new altars built along the shore thy vows to Heaven are paid, throw o'er thy head a purple mantle, veiling well thy brows,
lest, while the sacrificial fire ascends in offering to the gods, thine eye behold some face of foe, and every omen fail. Let all thy people keep this custom due, and thou thyself be faithful; let thy seed forever thus th' immaculate rite maintain. After departing hence, thou shalt be blown toward Sicily, and strait Pelorus' bounds will open wide. Then take the leftward way: those leftward waters in long circuit sweep, far from that billowy coast, the opposing side. These regions, so they tell, in ages gone
by huge and violent convulsion riven (Such mutability is wrought by time), sprang wide asunder; where the doubled strand sole and continuous lay, the sea's vast power burst in between, and bade its waves divide Hesperia's bosom from fair Sicily, while with a straitened firth it interflowed their fields and cities sundered shore from shore. The right side Scylla keeps; the left is given to pitiless Charybdis, who draws down to the wild whirling of her steep abyss the monster waves, and ever and anon
flings them at heaven, to lash the tranquil stars. But Scylla, prisoned in her eyeless cave, thrusts forth her face, and pulls upon the rocks ship after ship; the parts that first be seen are human; a fair-breasted virgin she, down to the womb; but all that lurks below is a huge-membered fish, where strangely join the flukes of dolphins and the paunch of wolves. Better by far to round the distant goal of the Trinacrian headlands, veering wide from thy true course, than ever thou shouldst see that shapeless Scylla in her vaulted cave,
where grim rocks echo her dark sea-dogs' roar. Yea, more, if aught of prescience be bestowed on Helenus, if trusted prophet he, and Phoebus to his heart true voice have given, o goddess-born, one counsel chief of all I tell thee oft, and urge it o'er and o'er. To Juno's godhead lift thy Ioudest prayer; to Juno chant a fervent votive song, and with obedient offering persuade that potent Queen. So shalt thou, triumphing, to Italy be sped, and leave behind Trinacria.When wafted to that shore,
repair to Cumae's hill, and to the Lake Avernus with its whispering grove divine. There shalt thou see a frenzied prophetess, who from beneath the hollow scarped crag sings oracles, or characters on leaves mysterious names. Whate'er the virgin writes, on leaves inscribing the portentous song, she sets in order, and conceals them well in her deep cave, where they abide unchanged in due array. Yet not a care has she, if with some swinging hinge a breeze sweeps in, to catch them as they whirl: if open door
disperse them flutterlig through the hollow rock, she will not link their shifted sense anew, nor re-invent her fragmentary song. Oft her unanswered votaries depart, scorning the Sibyl's shrine. But deem not thou thy tarrying too Iong, whate'er thy stay. Though thy companions chide, though winds of power invite thy ship to sea, and well would speed the swelling sail, yet to that Sibyl go. Pray that her own lips may sing forth for thee the oracles, uplifting her dread voice in willing prophecy. Her rede shall tell
of Italy, its wars and tribes to be, and of what way each burden and each woe may be escaped, or borne. Her favoring aid will grant swift, happy voyages to thy prayer. Such counsels Heaven to my lips allows. arise, begone! and by thy glorious deeds set Troy among the stars! “ So spake the prophet with benignant voice. Then gifts he bade be brought of heavy gold and graven ivory, which to our ships he bade us bear; each bark was Ioaded full with messy silver and Dodona's pride
of brazen cauldrons; a cuirass he gave of linked gold enwrought and triple chain; a noble helmet, too, with flaming crest and lofty cone, th' accoutrement erewhile of Neoptolemus. My father too had fit gifts from the King; whose bounty then gave steeds and riders; and new gear was sent to every sea-worn ship, while he supplied seafarers, kit to all my loyal crews. Anchises bade us speedily set sail, nor lose a wind so fair; and answering him, Apollo's priest made reverent adieu:
“Anchises, honored by the love sublime of Venus, self and twice in safety borne from falling Troy, chief care of kindly Heaven, th' Ausonian shore is thine. Sail thitherward! For thou art pre-ordained to travel far o'er yonder seas; far in the distance lies that region of Ausonia, Phoebus' voice to thee made promise of. Onward, I say, o blest in the exceeding loyal love of thy dear son! Why keep thee longer now? Why should my words yon gathering winds detain?” Likewise Andromache in mournful guise
took last farewell, bringing embroidered robes of golden woof; a princely Phrygian cloak she gave Ascanius, vying with the King in gifts of honor; and threw o'er the boy the labors of her loom, with words like these: “Accept these gifts, sweet youth, memorials of me and my poor handicraft, to prove th' undying friendship of Andromache, once Hector's wife. Take these last offerings of those who are thy kin—O thou that art of my Astyanax in all this world the only image! His thy lovely eyes!
Thy hands, thy lips, are even what he bore, and like thy own his youthful bloom would be.” Thus I made answer, turning to depart with rising tears: “Live on, and be ye blessed, whose greatness is accomplished! As for me, from change to change Fate summons, and I go; but ye have won repose. No leagues of sea await your cleaving keel. Not yours the quest of fading Italy's delusive shore. Here a new Xanthus and a second Troy your labor fashioned and your eyes may see— more blest, I trust, less tempting to our foes!
If e'er on Tiber and its bordering vales I safely enter, and these eyes behold our destined walls, then in fraternal bond let our two nations live, whose mutual boast is one Dardanian blood, one common story. Epirus with Hesperia shall be one Troy in heart and soul. But this remains for our sons' sons the happy task and care.” Forth o'er the seas we sped and kept our course nigh the Ceraunian headland, where begins the short sea-passage unto Italy. Soon sank the sun, while down the shadowed hills
stole deeper gloom; then making shore, we flung our bodies on a dry, sea-bordering sand, couched on earth's welcome breast; the oars were ranged in order due; the tides of slumber dark o'erflowed our lives. But scarce the chariot of Night, on wings of swift, obedient Hours, had touched the middle sky, when wakeful sprang good Palinurus from his pillowed stone: with hand at ear he caught each airy gust and questioned of the winds; the gliding stars he called by name, as onward they advanced through the still heaven; Arcturus he beheld,
the Hyades, rain-bringers, the twin Bears, and vast Orion girt in golden arms. He blew a trumpet from his ship; our camp stirred to the signal for embarking; soon we rode the seas once more with swelling sail. Scarce had Aurora's purple from the sky warned off the stars, when Iying very low along th' horizon, the dimmed hills we saw of Italy; Achates first gave cry “Italia!” with answering shouts of joy, my comrades' voices cried, “Italia, hail!” Anchises, then, wreathed a great bowl with flowers
and filled with wine, invoking Heaven to bless, and thus he prayed from our ship's lofty stern: “O Iords of land and sea and every storm! Breathe favoring breezes for our onward way!” Fresh blew the prayed-for winds. A haven fair soon widened near us; and its heights were crowned by a Greek fane to Pallas. Yet my men furled sail and shoreward veered the pointing prow. the port receding from the orient wave is curved into a bow; on either side the jutting headlands toss the salt sea-foam and hide the bay itself. Like double wall
the towered crags send down protecting arms, while distant from the shore the temple stands. Here on a green sward, the first omen given, I saw four horses grazing through the field, each white as snow. Father Anchises cried: “Is war thy gift, O new and alien land? Horses make war; of war these creatures bode. Yet oft before the chariot of peace their swift hoofs go, and on their necks they bear th' obedient yoke and rein. Therefore a hope of peace is also ours.” Then we implored Minerva's mercy, at her sacred shrine,
the mail-clad goddess who gave welcome there; and at an altar, mantling well our brows the Phrygian way, as Helenus ordained, we paid the honors his chief counsel urged, with blameless rite, to Juno, Argive Queen. No tarrying now, but after sacrifice we twirled the sailyards and shook out all sail, leaving the cities of the sons of Greece and that distrusted land. Tarentum's bay soon smiled before us, town of Hercules, if fame be true; opposing it uptowers Lacinia's headland unto Juno dear,
the heights of Caulon, and that sailors' bane, ship-shattering Scylaceum. Thence half seen, trinacrian Aetna cleaves th' horizon line; we hear from far the crash of shouting seas, where lifted billows leap the tide-swept sand. Father Anchises cried: “'T is none but she— Charybdis! Helenus this reef foretold, and rocks of dreadful name. O, fly, my men! Rise like one man with long, strong sweep of oars!” Not unobedient they! First Palinure veered to the leftward wave the willing keel, and sails and oars together leftward strove.
We shot to skyward on the arching surge, then, as she sank, dropped deeper than the grave; thrice bellowed the vast cliffs from vaulted wall; thrice saw we spouted foam and showers of stars. After these things both wind and sun did fail; and weary, worn, not witting of our way, we drifted shoreward to the Cyclops' land. A spreading bay is there, impregnable to all invading storms; and Aetna's throat with roar of frightful ruin thunders nigh. Now to the realm of light it lifts a cloud of pitch-black, whirling smoke, and fiery dust,
shooting out globes of flame, with monster tongues that lick the stars; now huge crags of itself, out of the bowels of the mountain torn, its maw disgorges, while the molten rock rolls screaming skyward; from the nether deep the fathomless abyss makes ebb and flow. Enceladus, his body lightning-scarred, lies prisoned under all, so runs the tale: o'er him gigantic Aetna breathes in fire from crack and seam; and if he haply turn to change his wearied side, Trinacria's isle trembles and moans, and thick fumes mantle heaven.
That night in screen and covert of a grove we bore the dire convulsion, unaware whence the loud horror came. For not a star its lamp allowed, nor burned in upper sky the constellated fires, but all was gloom, and frowning night confined the moon in cloud. When from the eastern waves the light of morn began to peer, and from the upper sky Aurora flamed away the dark and dew, out of the forest sprang a startling shape of hunger-wasted misery; a man in wretched guise, who shoreward came with hands
outstretched in supplication. We turned back and scanned him well. All grime and foulness he, with long and tangled beard, his savage garb fastened with thorns; but in all else he seemed a Greek, and in his country's league of arms sent to the seige of Troy. Then he beheld the Dardan habit, and our Trojan steel, he somewhat paused, as if in dread dismay such sight to see, and falteringly moved; but soon with headlong steps he sought the shore, ejaculating broken sobs and prayers: “By stars above! By gods on high! O, hear!
By this bright heavenly air we mortals breathe, save me, sweet Trojans! Carry me away unto what land ye will! I ask no more. I came, I know it, in the ships of Greece; and I did war, 't is true, with Ilium's gods. O, if the crime deserve it, fling my corse on yonder waves, and in the boundless brine sink me forever! Give me in my death the comfort that by human hands I die.” He clasped our knees, and writhing on his own clung fast. We bid him tell his race and name, and by what fate pursued. Anchises gave
his own right hand in swift and generous aid, and by prompt token cheered the exile's heart, who, banishing his fears, poured forth this tale :— “My home was Ithaca, and I partook the fortunes of Ulysses evil-starred. My name is Achemenides, my sire was Adamastus, and I sailed for Troy, being so poor,—O, that I ne'er had change the lot I bore! In yon vast Cyclops' cave my comrades, flying from its gruesome door, left me behind, forgotten. 'T is a house of gory feasts of flesh, 't is deep and dark,
and vaulted high. He looms as high as heaven; I pray the blessed gods to rid the earth of the vile monster! None can look on him, none speak with him. He feeds on clotted gore of disembowelled men. These very eyes saw him seize two of our own company, and, as he lolled back in the cave, he clutched and dashed them on the stones, fouling the floor with torrent of their blood; myself I saw him crunch with his teeth the dripping, bloody limbs still hot and pulsing on his hungry jaw. But not without reward! For such a sight
Ulysses would not brook, and Ithaca forgot not in such strait the name he bore. For soon as, gorged with feasting and o'ercome with drunken slumber, the foul giant lay sprawled through the cave, his head dropped helpless down, disgorging as he slept thick drool of gore and gobbets drenched with bloody wine; then we, calling on Heaven and taking place by lot, drew round him like one man, and with a beam sharpened at end bored out that monster eye, which, huge and sole, lay under the grim brow, round as an Argive shield or Phoebus' star.
Thus took we joyful vengeance for the shades of our lost mates. But, O ill-fated men! Fly, I implore, and cut the cables free along the beach! For in the land abide, like Polyphemus, who in hollow cave kept fleecy sheep, and milked his fruitful ewes, a hundred other, huge as he, who rove wide o'er this winding shore and mountains fair: Cyclops accursed, bestial! Thrice the moon has filled her horns with light, while here I dwell in lonely woods and lairs of creatures wild; or from tall cliffs out-peering I discern
the Cyclops, and shrink shuddering from the sound of their vast step and cry. My sorry fare is berries and hard corners dropped from trees, or herb-roots torn out from the niggard ground. Though watching the whole sea, only today Have I had sight of ships. To you I fled. Whate'er ye be, it was my only prayer to 'scape that monster brood. I ask no more. O, set me free by any death ye will!” He scarce had said, when moving o'er the crest of a high hill a giant shape we saw: that shepherd Polyphemus, with his flocks
down-wending to the well-known water-side; huge, shapeless, horrible, with blinded eye, bearing a lopped pine for a staff, he made his footing sure, while the white, fleecy sheep, sole pleasure now, and solace of his woes, ran huddling at his side. Soon to the vast flood of the level brine he came, and washed the flowing gore away from that out-hollowed eye; he gnashed his teeth, groaning, and deep into the watery way stalked on, his tall bulk wet by scarce a wave. We fled in haste, though far, and with us bore
the truthful suppliant; cut silently the anchor-ropes, and, bending to the oar, swept on with eager strokes clean out to sea. Aware he was, and toward our loud halloo whirled sudden round; but when no power had he to seize or harm, nor could his fierce pursuit o'ertake the Ionian surges as they rolled, he raised a cry incredible; the sea with all its billows trembled; the wide shore of Italy from glens and gorges moaned, and Aetna roared from every vaulted cave. Then rallied from the grove-clad, Iofty isle
the Cyclops' clan, and lined the beach and bay. We saw each lonely eyeball glare in vain, as side by side those brothers Aetna-born stood towering high, a conclave dark and dire: as when, far up some mountain's famous crest, wind-fronting oaks or cone-clad cypresses have made assembling in the solemn hills, Jove's giant wood or Dian's sacred grove. We, terror-struck, would fly we knew not where, with loosened sheet and canvas swelling strong before a welcome wind; but Helenus bade us both Scylla and Charybdis fear,
where 'twixt the twain death straitly hems the way; and so the counsel was to veer our bark the course it came. But lo! a northern gale burst o'er us from Pelorus' narrowed side, and on we rode far past Pantagia's bay of unhewn rock, and past the haven strong of Megara, and Thapsus Iying low. Such were the names retold, and such the shores shown us by Achemenides, whose fate made him familiar there, for he had sailed with evil-starred Ulysses o'er that sea. Off the Sicilian shore an island lies,
wave-washed Plemmyrium, called in olden days Ortygia; here Alpheus, river-god, from Elis flowed by secret sluice, they say, beneath the sea, and mingles at thy mouth, fair Arethusa! with Sicilian waves. Our voices hailed the great gods of the land with reverent prayer; then skirted we the shore, where smooth Helorus floods the fruitful plain. Under Pachynus' beetling precipice we kept our course; then Camarina rose in distant view, firm-seated evermore by Fate's decree; and that far-spreading vale
of Gela, with the name of power it takes from its wide river; and, uptowering far, the ramparts of proud Acragas appeared, where fiery steeds were bred in days of old. Borne by the winds, along thy coast I fled, Selinus, green with palm! and past the shore of Lilybaeum with its treacherous reef; till at the last the port of Drepanum received me to its melancholy strand. Here, woe is me I outworn by stormful seas, my sire, sole comfort of my grievous doom, Anchises ceased to be. O best of sires!
Here didst thou leave me in the weary way; through all our perils—O the bitter loss! — borne safely, but in vain. King Helenus, whose prophet-tongue of dark events foretold, spoke not this woe; nor did Celeno's curse of this forebode. Such my last loss and pain; such, of my weary way, the destined goal. From thence departing, the divine behest impelled me to thy shores, O listening queen! Such was, while all gave ear, the tale sublime father Aeneas, none but he, set forth of wanderings and of dark decrees divine:
silent at last, he ceased, and took repose.
Book 4
Now felt the Queen the sharp, slow-gathering pangs of love; and out of every pulsing vein nourished the wound and fed its viewless fire. Her hero's virtues and his lordly line keep calling to her soul; his words, his glance, cling to her heart like lingering, barbed steel, and rest and peace from her vexed body fly. A new day's dawn with Phoebus' lamp divine lit up all lands, and from the vaulted heaven Aurora had dispelled the dark and dew; when thus unto the ever-answering heart of her dear sister spoke the stricken Queen:
“Anna, my sister, what disturbing dreams perplex me and alarm? What guest is this new-welcomed to our house? How proud his mien! What dauntless courage and exploits of war! Sooth, I receive it for no idle tale that of the gods he sprang. 'T is cowardice betrays the base-born soul. Ah me! How fate has smitten him with storms! What dire extremes of war and horror in his tale he told! O, were it not immutably resolved in my fixed heart, that to no shape of man I would be wed again (since my first love
left me by death abandoned and betrayed); loathed I not so the marriage torch and train, I could—who knows?—to this one weakness yield. Anna, I hide it not! But since the doom of my ill-starred Sichaeus, when our shrines were by a brother's murder dabbled o'er, this man alone has moved me; he alone has shaken my weak will. I seem to feel the motions of love's lost, familiar fire. But may the earth gape open where I tread, and may almighty Jove with thunder-scourge hurl me to Erebus' abysmal shade,
to pallid ghosts and midnight fathomless, before, O Chastity! I shall offend thy holy power, or cast thy bonds away! He who first mingled his dear life with mine took with him all my heart. 'T is his alone — o, let it rest beside him in the grave!” She spoke: the bursting tears her breast o'erflowed. “O dearer to thy sister than her life,” Anna replied, “wouldst thou in sorrow's weed waste thy long youth alone, nor ever know sweet babes at thine own breast, nor gifts of love? Will dust and ashes, or a buried ghost
reck what we do? 'T is true thy grieving heart was cold to earlier wooers, Libya's now, and long ago in Tyre. Iarbas knew thy scorn, and many a prince and captain bred in Afric's land of glory. Why resist a love that makes thee glad? Hast thou no care what alien lands are these where thou dost reign? Here are Gaetulia's cities and her tribes unconquered ever; on thy borders rove Numidia's uncurbed cavalry; here too lies Syrtis' cruel shore, and regions wide of thirsty desert, menaced everywhere
by the wild hordes of Barca. Shall I tell of Tyre's hostilities, the threats and rage of our own brother? Friendly gods, I bow, wafted the Teucrian ships, with Juno's aid, to these our shores. O sister, what a throne, and what imperial city shall be thine, if thus espoused! With Trojan arms allied how far may not our Punic fame extend in deeds of power? Call therefore on the gods to favor thee; and, after omens fair, give queenly welcome, and contrive excuse to make him tarry, while yon wintry seas
are loud beneath Orion's stormful star, and on his battered ships the season frowns.” So saying, she stirred a passion-burning breast to Iove more madly still; her words infused a doubting mind with hope, and bade the blush of shame begone. First to the shrines they went and sued for grace; performing sacrifice, choosing an offering of unblemished ewes, to law-bestowing Ceres, to the god of light, to sire Lyeus, Iord of wine; but chiefly unto Juno, patroness of nuptial vows. There Dido, beauteous Queen
held forth in her right hand the sacred bowl and poured it full between the lifted horns of the white heifer; or on temple floors she strode among the richly laden shrines, the eyes of gods upon her, worshipping with many a votive gift; or, peering deep into the victims' cloven sides, she read the fate-revealing tokens trembling there. How blind the hearts of prophets be! Alas! Of what avail be temples and fond prayers to change a frenzied mind? Devouring ever, love's fire burns inward to her bones; she feels
quick in her breast the viewless, voiceless wound. Ill-fated Dido ranges up and down the spaces of her city, desperate her life one flame—like arrow-stricken doe through Cretan forest rashly wandering, pierced by a far-off shepherd, who pursues with shafts, and leaves behind his light-winged steed, not knowing; while she scours the dark ravines of Dicte and its woodlands; at her heart the mortal barb irrevocably clings. around her city's battlements she guides aeneas, to make show of Sidon's gold,
and what her realm can boast; full oft her voice essays to speak and frembling dies away: or, when the daylight fades, she spreads anew a royal banquet, and once more will plead mad that she is, to hear the Trojan sorrow; and with oblivious ravishment once more hangs on his lips who tells; or when her guests are scattered, and the wan moon's fading horn bedims its ray, while many a sinking star invites to slumber, there she weeps alone in the deserted hall, and casts her down on the cold couch he pressed. Her love from far
beholds her vanished hero and receives his voice upon her ears; or to her breast, moved by a father's image in his child, she clasps Ascanius, seeking to deceive her unblest passion so. Her enterprise of tower and rampart stops: her martial host no Ionger she reviews, nor fashions now defensive haven and defiant wall; but idly all her half-built bastions frown, and enginery of sieges, high as heaven. But soon the chosen spouse of Jove perceived the Queen's infection; and because the voice
of honor to such frenzy spoke not, she, daughter of Saturn, unto Venus turned and counselled thus: “How noble is the praise, how glorious the spoils of victory, for thee and for thy boy! Your names should be in lasting, vast renown—that by the snare of two great gods in league one woman fell! it 'scapes me not that my protected realms have ever been thy fear, and the proud halls of Carthage thy vexation and annoy. Why further go? Prithee, what useful end has our long war? Why not from this day forth
perpetual peace and nuptial amity? Hast thou not worked thy will? Behold and see how Iove-sick Dido burns, and all her flesh 'The madness feels! So let our common grace smile on a mingled people! Let her serve a Phrygian husband, while thy hands receive her Tyrian subjects for the bridal dower!” In answer (reading the dissembler's mind which unto Libyan shores were fain to shift italia's future throne) thus Venus spoke: “'T were mad to spurn such favor, or by choice be numbered with thy foes. But can it be
that fortune on thy noble counsel smiles? To me Fate shows but dimly whether Jove unto the Trojan wanderers ordains a common city with the sons of Tyre, with mingling blood and sworn, perpetual peace. His wife thou art; it is thy rightful due to plead to know his mind. Go, ask him, then! For humbly I obey!” With instant word Juno the Queen replied: “Leave that to me! But in what wise our urgent task and grave may soon be sped, I will in brief unfold to thine attending ear. A royal hunt
in sylvan shades unhappy Dido gives for her Aeneas, when to-morrow's dawn uplifts its earliest ray and Titan's beam shall first unveil the world. But I will pour black storm-clouds with a burst of heavy hail along their way; and as the huntsmen speed to hem the wood with snares, I will arouse all heaven with thunder. The attending train shall scatter and be veiled in blinding dark, while Dido and her hero out of Troy to the same cavern fly. My auspices I will declare—if thou alike wilt bless;
and yield her in true wedlock for his bride. Such shall their spousal be!” To Juno's will Cythera's Queen inclined assenting brow, and laughed such guile to see. Aurora rose, and left the ocean's rim. The city's gates pour forth to greet the morn a gallant train of huntsmen, bearing many a woven snare and steel-tipped javelin; while to and fro run the keen-scented dogs and Libyan squires. The Queen still keeps her chamber; at her doors the Punic lords await; her palfrey, brave in gold and purple housing, paws the ground
and fiercely champs the foam-flecked bridle-rein. At last, with numerous escort, forth she shines: her Tyrian pall is bordered in bright hues, her quiver, gold; her tresses are confined only with gold; her robes of purple rare meet in a golden clasp. To greet her come the noble Phrygian guests; among them smiles the boy Iulus; and in fair array Aeneas, goodliest of all his train. In such a guise Apollo (when he leaves cold Lycian hills and Xanthus' frosty stream to visit Delos to Latona dear)
ordains the song, while round his altars cry the choirs of many islands, with the pied, fantastic Agathyrsi; soon the god moves o'er the Cynthian steep; his flowing hair he binds with laurel garland and bright gold; upon his shining shoulder as he goes the arrows ring:—not less uplifted mien aeneas wore; from his illustrious brow such beauty shone. Soon to the mountains tall the cavalcade comes nigh, to pathless haunts of woodland creatures; the wild goats are seen, from pointed crag descending leap by leap
down the steep ridges; in the vales below are routed deer, that scour the spreading plain, and mass their dust-blown squadrons in wild flight, far from the mountain's bound. Ascanius flushed with the sport, spurs on a mettled steed from vale to vale, and many a flying herd his chase outspeeds; but in his heart he prays among these tame things suddenly to see a tusky boar, or, leaping from the hills, a growling mountain-lion, golden-maned. Meanwhile low thunders in the distant sky mutter confusedly; soon bursts in full
the storm-cloud and the hail. The Tyrian troop is scattered wide; the chivalry of Troy, with the young heir of Dardan's kingly line, of Venus sprung, seek shelter where they may, with sudden terror; down the deep ravines the swollen torrents roar. In that same hour Queen Dido and her hero out of Troy to the same cavern fly. Old Mother-Earth and wedlock-keeping Juno gave the sign; the flash of lightnings on the conscious air were torches to the bridal; from the hills the wailing wood-nymphs sobbed a wedding song.
Such was that day of death, the source and spring of many a woe. For Dido took no heed of honor and good-name; nor did she mean her loves to hide; but called the lawlessness a marriage, and with phrases veiled her shame. Swift through the Libyan cities Rumor sped. Rumor! What evil can surpass her speed? In movement she grows mighty, and achieves strength and dominion as she swifter flies. small first, because afraid, she soon exalts her stature skyward, stalking through the lands and mantling in the clouds her baleful brow.
The womb of Earth, in anger at high Heaven, bore her, they say, last of the Titan spawn, sister to Coeus and Enceladus. Feet swift to run and pinions like the wind the dreadful monster wears; her carcase huge is feathered, and at root of every plume a peering eye abides; and, strange to tell, an equal number of vociferous tongues, foul, whispering lips, and ears, that catch at all. At night she spreads midway 'twixt earth and heaven her pinions in the darkness, hissing loud, nor e'er to happy slumber gives her eyes:
but with the morn she takes her watchful throne high on the housetops or on lofty towers, to terrify the nations. She can cling to vile invention and malignant wrong, or mingle with her word some tidings true. She now with changeful story filled men's ears, exultant, whether false or true she sung: how, Trojan-born Aeneas having come, Dido, the lovely widow, Iooked his way, deigning to wed; how all the winter long they passed in revel and voluptuous ease, to dalliance given o'er; naught heeding now
of crown or kingdom—shameless! lust-enslaved! Such tidings broadcast on the lips of men the filthy goddess spread; and soon she hied to King Iarbas, where her hateful song to newly-swollen wrath his heart inflamed. Him the god Ammon got by forced embrace upon a Libyan nymph; his kingdoms wide possessed a hundred ample shrines to Jove, a hundred altars whence ascended ever the fires of sacrifice, perpetual seats for a great god's abode, where flowing blood enriched the ground, and on the portals hung
garlands of every flower. The angered King, half-maddened by malignant Rumor's voice, unto his favored altars came, and there, surrounded by the effluence divine, upraised in prayer to Jove his suppliant hands. “Almighty Jupiter, to whom each day, at banquet on the painted couch reclined, Numidia pours libation! Do thine eyes behold us? Or when out of yonder heaven, o sire, thou launchest the swift thunderbolt, is it for naught we fear thee? Do the clouds shoot forth blind fire to terrify the soul
with wild, unmeaning roar? O, Iook upon that woman, who was homeless in our realm, and bargained where to build her paltry town, receiving fertile coastland for her farms, by hospitable grant! She dares disdain our proffered nuptial vow. She has proclaimed Aeneas partner of her bed and throne. And now that Paris, with his eunuch crew, beneath his chin and fragrant, oozy hair ties the soft Lydian bonnet, boasting well his stolen prize. But we to all these fanes, though they be thine, a fruitless offering bring,
and feed on empty tales our trust in thee.” As thus he prayed and to the altars clung, th' Omnipotent gave ear, and turned his gaze upon the royal dwelling, where for love the amorous pair forgot their place and name. Then thus to Mercury he gave command: “Haste thee, my son, upon the Zephyrs call, and take thy winged way! My mandate bear unto that prince of Troy who tarries now in Tyrian Carthage, heedless utterly of empire Heaven-bestowed. On winged winds hasten with my decrees. Not such the man
his beauteous mother promised; not for this twice did she shield him from the Greeks in arms: but that he might rule Italy, a land pregnant with thrones and echoing with war; that he of Teucer's seed a race should sire, and bring beneath its law the whole wide world. If such a glory and event supreme enkindle not his bosom; if such task to his own honor speak not; can the sire begrudge Ascanius the heritage of the proud name of Rome? What plans he now? What mad hope bids him linger in the lap
of enemies, considering no more the land Lavinian and Ausonia's sons. Let him to sea! Be this our final word: this message let our herald faithful bear.” He spoke. The god a prompt obedience gave to his great sire's command. He fastened first those sandals of bright gold, which carry him aloft o'er land or sea, with airy wings that race the fleeting wind; then lifted he his wand, wherewith he summons from the grave pale-featured ghosts, or, if he will, consigns to doleful Tartarus; or by its power
gives slumber or dispels; or quite unseals the eyelids of the dead: on this relying, he routs the winds or cleaves th' obscurity of stormful clouds. Soon from his flight he spied the summit and the sides precipitous of stubborn Atlas, whose star-pointing peak props heaven; of Atlas, whose pine-wreathed brow is girdled evermore with misty gloom and lashed of wind and rain; a cloak of snow melts on his shoulder; from his aged chin drop rivers, and ensheathed in stiffening ice glitters his great grim beard. Here first was stayed
the speed of Mercury's well-poising wing; here making pause, from hence he headlong flung his body to the sea; in motion like some sea-bird's, which along the levelled shore or round tall crags where rove the swarming fish, flies Iow along the waves: o'er-hovering so between the earth and skies, Cyllene's god flew downward from his mother's mountain-sire, parted the winds and skimmed the sandy merge of Libya. When first his winged feet came nigh the clay-built Punic huts, he saw Aeneas building at a citadel,
and founding walls and towers; at his side was girt a blade with yellow jaspers starred, his mantle with the stain of Tyrian shell flowed purple from his shoulder, broidered fair by opulent Dido with fine threads of gold, her gift of love; straightway the god began: “Dost thou for lofty Carthage toil, to build foundations strong? Dost thou, a wife's weak thrall, build her proud city? Hast thou, shameful loss! Forgot thy kingdom and thy task sublime? From bright Olympus, I. He who commands all gods, and by his sovran deity
moves earth and heaven—he it was who bade me bear on winged winds his high decree. What plan is thine? By what mad hope dost thou linger so Iong in lap of Libyan land? If the proud reward of thy destined way move not thy heart, if all the arduous toil to thine own honor speak not, Iook upon Iulus in his bloom, thy hope and heir Ascanius. It is his rightful due in Italy o'er Roman lands to reign.” After such word Cyllene's winged god vanished, and e'er his accents died away,
dissolved in air before the mortal's eyes. Aeneas at the sight stood terror-dumb with choking voice and horror-rising hair. He fain would fly at once and get him gone from that voluptuous land, much wondering at Heaven's wrathful word. Alas! how stir? What cunning argument can plead his cause before th' infuriate Queen? How break such news? Flashing this way and that, his startled mind makes many a project and surveys them all. But, pondering well, his final counsel stopped at this resolve: he summoned to his side
Mnestheus, Sergestus, and Serestus bold, and bade them fit the fleet, all silently gathering the sailors and collecting gear, but carefully dissembling what emprise such novel stir intends: himself the while (Since high-born Dido dreamed not love so fond could have an end) would seek an audience, at some indulgent time, and try what shift such matters may require. With joy they heard, and wrought, assiduous, at their prince's plan. But what can cheat true love? The Queen foreknew his stratagem, and all the coming change
perceived ere it began. Her jealous fear counted no hour secure. That unclean tongue of Rumor told her fevered heart the fleet was fitting forth, and hastening to be gone. Distractedly she raved, and passion-tossed roamed through her city, like a Maenad roused by the wild rout of Bacchus, when are heard the third year's orgies, and the midnight scream to cold Cithaeron calls the frenzied crew. Finding Aeneas, thus her plaint she poured: “Didst hope to hide it, false one, that such crime was in thy heart,—to steal without farewell
out of my kingdom? Did our mutual joy not move thee; nor thine own true promise given once on a time? Nor Dido, who will die a death of sorrow? Why compel thy ships to brave the winter stars? Why off to sea so fast through stormy skies? O, cruelty! If Troy still stood, and if thou wert not bound for alien shore unknown, wouldst steer for Troy through yonder waste of waves? Is it from me thou takest flight? O, by these flowing tears, by thine own plighted word (for nothing more my weakness left to miserable me),
by our poor marriage of imperfect vow, if aught to me thou owest, if aught in me ever have pleased thee—O, be merciful to my low-fallen fortunes! I implore, if place be left for prayer, thy purpose change! Because of thee yon Libyan savages and nomad chiefs are grown implacable, and my own Tyrians hate me. Yes, for thee my chastity was slain and honor fair, by which alone to glory I aspired, in former days. To whom dost thou in death abandon me? my guest!—since but this name
is left me of a husband! Shall I wait till fell Pygmalion, my brother, raze my city walls? Or the Gaetulian king, Iarbas, chain me captive to his car? . O, if, ere thou hadst fled, I might but bear some pledge of love to thee, and in these halls watch some sweet babe Aeneas at his play, whose face should be the memory of thine own — I were not so forsaken, Iost, undone!” She said. But he, obeying Jove's decree, gazed steadfastly away; and in his heart with strong repression crushed his cruel pain;
then thus the silence broke: “O Queen, not one of my unnumbered debts so strongly urged would I gainsay. Elissa's memory will be my treasure Iong as memory holds, or breath of life is mine. Hear my brief plea! 'T was not my hope to hide this flight I take, as thou hast dreamed. Nay, I did never light a bridegroom's torch, nor gave I thee the vow of marriage. Had my destiny decreed, that I should shape life to my heart's desire, and at my own will put away the weight of foil and pain, my place would now be found
in Troy, among the cherished sepulchres of my own kin, and Priam's mansion proud were standing still; or these my loyal hands had rebuilt Ilium for her vanquished sons. But now to Italy Apollo's power commands me forth; his Lycian oracles are loud for Italy. My heart is there, and there my fatherland. If now the towers of Carthage and thy Libyan colony delight thy Tyrian eyes; wilt thou refuse to Trojan exiles their Ausonian shore? I too by Fate was driven, not less than thou,
to wander far a foreign throne to find. Oft when in dewy dark night hides the world, and flaming stars arise, Anchises' shade looks on me in my dreams with angered brow. I think of my Ascanius, and the wrong to that dear heart, from whom I steal away Hesperia, his destined home and throne. But now the winged messenger of Heaven, sent down by Jove (I swear by thee and me!), has brought on winged winds his sire's command. My own eyes with unclouded vision saw the god within these walls; I have received
with my own ears his word. No more inflame with lamentation fond thy heart and mine. 'T is not my own free act seeks Italy.” She with averted eyes and glance that rolled speechless this way and that, had listened long to his reply, till thus her rage broke forth: “No goddess gave thee birth. No Dardanus begot thy sires. But on its breast of stone Caucasus bore thee, and the tigresses of fell Hyrcania to thy baby lip their udders gave. Why should I longer show a lying smile? What worse can I endure?
Did my tears draw one sigh? Did he once drop his stony stare? or did he yield a tear to my lament, or pity this fond heart? Why set my wrongs in order? Juno, now, and Jove, the son of Saturn, heed no more where justice lies. No trusting heart is safe in all this world. That waif and castaway I found in beggary and gave him share— fool that I was!—in my own royal glory. His Iost fleet and his sorry crews I steered from death away. O, how my fevered soul unceasing raves! Forsooth Apollo speaks!
His Lycian oracles! and sent by Jove the messenger of Heaven on fleeting air the ruthless bidding brings! Proud business for gods, I trow, that such a task disturbs their still abodes! I hold thee back no more, nor to thy cunning speeches give the lie. Begone! Sail on to Italy, thy throne, through wind and wave! I pray that, if there be any just gods of power, thou mayest drink down death on the mid-sea rocks, and often call with dying gasps on Dido's name—while I pursue with vengeful fire. When cold death rends
the body from the breath, my ghost shall sit forever in thy path. Full penalties thy stubborn heart shall pay. They'll bring me never in yon deep gulf of death of all thy woe.” Abrupt her utterance ceased; and sick at heart she fled the light of day, as if to shrink from human eyes, and left Aeneas there irresolute with horror, while his soul framed many a vain reply. Her swooning shape her maidens to a marble chamber bore and on her couch the helpless limbs reposed. Aeneas, faithful to a task divine,
though yearning sore to remedy and soothe such misery, and with the timely word her grief assuage, and though his burdened heart was weak because of love, while many a groan rose from his bosom, yet no whit did fail to do the will of Heaven, but of his fleet resumed command. The Trojans on the shore ply well their task and push into the sea the lofty ships. Now floats the shining keel, and oars they bring all leafy from the grove, with oak half-hewn, so hurried was the flight. Behold them how they haste—from every gate
forth-streaming!—just as when a heap of corn is thronged with ants, who, knowing winter nigh, refill their granaries; the long black line runs o'er the levels, and conveys the spoil in narrow pathway through the grass; a part with straining and assiduous shoulder push the kernels huge; a part array the file, and whip the laggards on; their busy track swarms quick and eager with unceasing toil. O Dido, how thy suffering heart was wrung, that spectacle to see! What sore lament was thine, when from the towering citadel
the whole shore seemed alive, the sea itself in turmoil with loud cries! Relentless Love, to what mad courses may not mortal hearts by thee be driven? Again her sorrow flies to doleful plaint and supplication vain; again her pride to tyrant Love bows down lest, though resolved to die, she fail to prove each hope of living: “O Anna, dost thou see yon busy shore? From every side they come. their canvas wooes the winds, and o'er each prow the merry seamen hang their votive flowers. Dear sister, since I did forebode this grief,
I shall be strong to bear it. One sole boon my sorrow asks thee, Anna! Since of thee, thee only, did that traitor make a friend, and trusted thee with what he hid so deep — the feelings of his heart; since thou alone hast known what way, what hour the man would yield to soft persuasion—therefore, sister, haste, and humbly thus implore our haughty foe: ‘I was not with the Greeks what time they swore at Aulis to cut off the seed of Troy; I sent no ships to Ilium. Pray, have I profaned Anchises' tomb, or vexed his shade?’
Why should his ear be deaf and obdurate to all I say? What haste? May he not make one last poor offering to her whose love is only pain? O, bid him but delay till flight be easy and the winds blow fair. I plead no more that bygone marriage-vow by him forsworn, nor ask that he should lose his beauteous Latium and his realm to be. Nothing but time I crave! to give repose and more room to this fever, till my fate teach a crushed heart to sorrow. I implore this last grace. (To thy sister's grief be kind!)
I will requite with increase, till I die.” Such plaints, such prayers, again and yet again, betwixt the twain the sorrowing sister bore. But no words move, no lamentations bring persuasion to his soul; decrees of Fate oppose, and some wise god obstructs the way that finds the hero's ear. Oft-times around the aged strength of some stupendous oak the rival blasts of wintry Alpine winds smite with alternate wrath: Ioud is the roar, and from its rocking top the broken boughs are strewn along the ground; but to the crag
steadfast it ever clings; far as toward heaven its giant crest uprears, so deep below its roots reach down to Tartarus:—not less the hero by unceasing wail and cry is smitten sore, and in his mighty heart has many a pang, while his serene intent abides unmoved, and tears gush forth in vain. Then wretched Dido, by her doom appalled, asks only death. It wearies her to see the sun in heaven. Yet that she might hold fast her dread resolve to quit the light of day, behold, when on an incense-breathing shrine
her offering was laid—O fearful tale!— the pure libation blackened, and the wine flowed like polluting gore. She told the sight to none, not even to her sister's ear. A second sign was given: for in her house a marble altar to her husband's shade, with garlands bright and snowy fleeces dressed, had fervent worship; here strange cries were heard as if her dead spouse called while midnight reigned, and round her towers its inhuman song the lone owl sang, complaining o'er and o'er with lamentation and long shriek of woe.
Forgotten oracles by wizards told whisper old omens dire. In dreams she feels cruel Aeneas goad her madness on, and ever seems she, friendless and alone, some lengthening path to travel, or to seek her Tyrians through wide wastes of barren lands. Thus frantic Pentheus flees the stern array of the Eumenides, and thinks to see two noonday lights blaze oer his doubled Thebes; or murdered Agamemnon's haunted son, Orestes, flees his mother's phantom scourge of flames and serpents foul, while at his door
avenging horrors wait. Now sorrow-crazed and by her grief undone, resolved on death, the manner and the time her secret soul prepares, and, speaking to her sister sad, she masks in cheerful calm her fatal will: “I know a way—O, wish thy sister joy!— to bring him back to Iove, or set me free. On Ocean's bound and next the setting sun lies the last Aethiop land, where Atlas tall lifts on his shoulder the wide wheel of heaven, studded with burning stars. From thence is come a witch, a priestess, a Numidian crone,
who guards the shrine of the Hesperides and feeds the dragon; she protects the fruit of that enchanting tree, and scatters there her slumb'rous poppies mixed with honey-dew. Her spells and magic promise to set free what hearts she will, or visit cruel woes on men afar. She stops the downward flow of rivers, and turns back the rolling stars; on midnight ghosts she calls: her vot'ries hear earth bellowing loud below, while from the hills the ash-trees travel down. But, sister mine, thou knowest, and the gods their witness give,
how little mind have I to don the garb of sorcery. Depart in secret, thou, and bid them build a lofty funeral pyre inside our palalce-wall, and heap thereon the hero's arms, which that blasphemer hung within my chamber; every relic bring, and chiefly that ill-omened nuptial bed, my death and ruin! For I must blot out all sight and token of this husband vile. 'T is what the witch commands.” She spoke no more, and pallid was her brow. Yet Anna's mind knew not what web of death her sister wove
by these strange rites, nor what such frenzy dares; nor feared she worse than when Sichaeus died, but tried her forth the errand to fulfil. Soon as the funeral pyre was builded high in a sequestered garden, Iooming huge with boughs of pine and faggots of cleft oak, the queen herself enwreathed it with sad flowers and boughs of mournful shade; and crowning all she laid on nuptial bed the robes and sword by him abandoned; and stretched out thereon a mock Aeneas;—but her doom she knew. Altars were there; and with loose locks unbound
the priestess with a voice of thunder called three hundred gods, Hell, Chaos, the three shapes of triple Hecate, the faces three of virgin Dian. She aspersed a stream from dark Avernus drawn, she said; soft herbs were cut by moonlight with a blade of bronze, oozing black poison-sap; and she had plucked that philter from the forehead of new foal before its dam devours. Dido herself, sprinkling the salt meal, at the altar stands; one foot unsandalled, and with cincture free, on all the gods and fate-instructed stars,
foreseeing death, she calls. But if there be some just and not oblivious power on high, who heeds when lovers plight unequal vow, to that god first her supplications rise. Soon fell the night, and peaceful slumbers breathed on all earth's weary creatures; the loud seas and babbling forests entered on repose; now midway in their heavenly course the stars wheeled silent on; the outspread lands below lay voiceless; all the birds of tinted wing, and flocks that haunt the merge of waters wide or keep the thorny wold, oblivious lay
beneath the night so still; the stings of care ceased troubling, and no heart its burden knew. Not so the Tyrian Queen's deep-grieving soul! To sleep she could not yield; her eyes and heart refused the gift of night; her suffering redoubled, and in full returning tide her love rebelled, while on wild waves of rage she drifted to and fro. So, ceasing not from sorrow, thus she brooded on her wrongs: “What refuge now? Shall I invite the scorn of my rejected wooers, or entreat of some disdainful, nomad blackamoor
to take me to his bed—though many a time such husbands I made mock of? Shall I sail on Ilian ships away, and sink to be the Trojans' humble thrall? Do they rejoice that once I gave them bread? Lives gratitude in hearts like theirs for bygone kindnesses? O, who, if so I stooped, would deign to bear on yon proud ships the scorned and fallen Queen? Lost creature! Woe betide thee! Knowest thou not the perjured children of Laomedon? What way is left? Should I take flight alone and join the revelling sailors? Or depart
with Tyrians, the whole attending train of my own people? Hard the task to force their hearts from Sidon's towers; how once more compel to sea, and bid them spread the sail? Nay, perish! Thou hast earned it. Let the sword from sorrow save thee! Sister of my blood— who else but thee,—my own tears borne down, didst heap disaster on my frantic soul, and fling me to this foe? Why could I not pass wedlock by, and live a blameless life as wild things do, nor taste of passion's pain? But I broke faith! I cast the vows away
made at Sichaeus' grave.” Such loud lament burst from her breaking heart with doleful sound. Meanwhile Aeneas on his lofty ship, having made ready all, and fixed his mind to launch away upon brief slumher fell. But the god came; and in the self-same guise once more in monitory vision spoke, all guised as Mercury,—his voice, his hue, his golden locks, and young limbs strong and fair. “Hail, goddess-born! Wouldst linger on in sleep at such an hour? Nor seest thou the snares that hem thee round? Nor hearest thou the voice
of friendly zephyrs calling? Senseless man! That woman's breast contrives some treachery and horrid stroke; for, resolute to die, she drifts on swollen floods of wrath and scorn. Wilt thou not fly before the hastening hour of flight is gone? To-morrow thou wilt see yon waters thronged with ships, the cruel glare of fire-brands, and yonder shore all flame, if but the light of morn again surprise thee loitering in this land. Away! Away! Stay not! A mutable and shifting thing is woman ever.” Such command he spoke,
then melted in the midnight dark away. Aeneas, by that fleeting vision struck with an exceeding awe, straightway leaped forth from slumber's power, and to his followers cried : “Awake, my men! Away! Each to his place upon the thwarts! Unfurl at once the sails! A god from heaven a second time sent down urges our instant flight and bids us cut the twisted cords. Whatever be thy name, behold, we come, O venerated Power! Again with joy we follow! Let thy grace assist us as we go! And may thy power
bring none but stars benign across our sky.” So saying, from its scabbard forth he flashed the lightning of his sword, with naked blade striking the hawsers free. Like ardor seized on all his willing men, who raced and ran; and, while their galleys shadowed all the sea, clean from the shore they scudded, with strong strokes sweeping the purple waves and crested foam. Aurora's first young beams to earth were pouring as from Tithonus' saffron bed she sprang; while from her battlements the wakeful Queen watched the sky brighten, saw the mated sails
push forth to sea, till all her port and strand held not an oar or keel. Thrice and four times she smote her lovely breast with wrathful hand, and tore her golden hair. “Great Jove,” she cries, “Shall that departing fugitive make mock of me, a queen? Will not my men-at-arms draw sword, give chase, from all my city thronging? Down from the docks, my ships! Out, out! Begone! Take fire and sword! Bend to your oars, ye slaves! What have I said? Where am I? What mad thoughts delude this ruined mind? Woe unto thee, thou wretched Dido, now thy impious deeds
strike back upon thee. Wherefore struck they not, as was most fit, when thou didst fling away thy sceptre from thy hand? O Iying oaths! O faith forsworn! of him who brings, they boast, his father's gods along, and bowed his back to lift an age-worn sire! Why dared I not seize on him, rend his body limb from limb, and hurl him piecemeal on the rolling sea? Or put his troop of followers to the sword, ascanius too, and set his flesh before that father for a feast? Such fearful war had been of doubtful issue. Be it so!
What fears a woman dying? Would I had attacked their camp with torches, kindled flame from ship to ship, until that son and sire, with that whole tribe, were unto ashes burned in one huge holocaust—myself its crown! Great orb of light whose holy beam surveys all earthly deeds! Great Juno, patroness of conjugal distress, who knowest all! Pale Hecate, whose name the witches cry at midnight crossways! O avenging furies! O gods that guard Queen Dido's dying breath! Give ear, and to my guiltless misery
extend your power. Hear me what I pray! If it be fated that yon creature curst drift to the shore and happy haven find, if Father Iove's irrevocable word such goal decree—there may he be assailed by peoples fierce and bold. A banished man, from his Iulus' kisses sundered far, may his own eyes see miserably slain his kin and kind, and sue for alien arms. nor when he basely bows him to receive terms of unequal peace, shall he be blest with sceptre or with life; but perish there
before his time, and lie without a grave upon the barren sand. For this I pray. This dying word is flowing from my heart with my spilt blood. And—O ye Tyrians! I sting with your hatred all his seed and tribe forevermore. This is the offering my ashes ask. Betwixt our nations twain, No Iove! No truce or amity! Arise, Out of my dust, unknown Avenger, rise! To harry and lay waste with sword and flame those Dardan settlers, and to vex them sore, to-day, to-morrow, and as long as power
is thine to use! My dying curse arrays shore against shore and the opposing seas in shock of arms with arms. May living foes pass down from sire to son insatiate war!” She said. From point to point her purpose flew, seeking without delay to quench the flame of her loathed life. Brief bidding she addressed to Barce then, Sichaeus' nurse (her own lay dust and ashes in a lonely grave beside the Tyrian shore), “Go, nurse, and call my sister Anna! Bid her quickly bathe her limbs in living water, and procure
due victims for our expiating fires. bid her make haste. Go, bind on thy own brow the sacred fillet. For to Stygian Jove it is my purpose now to consummate the sacrifice ordained, ending my woe, and touch with flame the Trojan's funeral pyre.” The aged crone to do her bidding ran with trembling zeal. But Dido (horror-struck at her own dread design, unstrung with fear, her bloodshot eyes wide-rolling, and her cheek twitching and fever-spotted, her cold brow blanched with approaching death)—sped past the doors
into the palace garden; there she leaped, a frenzied creature, on the lofty pyre and drew the Trojan's sword; a gift not asked for use like this! When now she saw the garb of Ilian fashion, and the nuptial couch she knew too well, she lingered yet awhile for memory and tears, and, falling prone on that cold bed, outpoured a last farewell: “Sweet relics! Ever dear when Fate and Heaven upon me smiled, receive my parting breath, and from my woe set free! My life is done. I have accomplished what my lot allowed;
and now my spirit to the world of death in royal honor goes. The founder I of yonder noble city, I have seen walls at my bidding rise. I was avenged for my slain husband: I chastised the crimes of our injurious brother. Woe is me! Blest had I been, beyond deserving blest, if but the Trojan galleys ne'er had moored upon my kingdom's bound!”So saying, she pressed one last kiss on the couch. “Though for my death no vengeance fall, O, give me death!” she cried. “O thus! O thus! it is my will to take
the journey to the dark. From yonder sea may his cold Trojan eyes discern the flames that make me ashes! Be this cruel death his omen as he sails!” She spoke no more. But almost ere she ceased, her maidens all thronged to obey her cry, and found their Queen prone fallen on the sword, the reeking steel still in her bloody hands. Shrill clamor flew along the lofty halls; wild rumor spread through the whole smitten city: Ioud lament, groans and the wail of women echoed on from roof to roof, and to the dome of air
the noise of mourning rose. Such were the cry if a besieging host should break the walls of Carthage or old Tyre, and wrathful flames o'er towers of kings and worshipped altars roll. Her sister heard. Half in a swoon, she ran with trembling steps, where thickest was the throng, beating her breast, while with a desperate hand she tore at her own face, and called aloud upon the dying Queen. “Was it for this my own true sister used me with such guile? O, was this horrid deed the dire intent of altars, Iofty couch, and funeral fires?
What shall I tell for chiefest of my woes? Lost that I am! Why, though in death, cast off thy sister from thy heart? Why not invite one mortal stroke for both, a single sword, one agony together? But these hands built up thy pyre; and my voice implored the blessing of our gods, who granted me that thou shouldst perish thus—and I not know! In thy self-slaughter, sister, thou hast slain myself, thy people, the grave counsellors of Sidon, and yon city thou didst build to be thy throne!—Go, fetch me water, there!
That I may bathe those gashes! If there be one hovering breath that stays, let my fond lips discover and receive!” So saying, she sprang up from stair to stair, and, clasping to her breast her sister's dying form, moaned grievously, and staunched the dark blood with her garment's fold. Vainly would Dido lift her sinking eyes, but backward fell, while at her heart the wound opened afresh; three times with straining arm she rose; three times dropped helpless, her dimmed eyes turned skyward, seeking the sweet light of day, — which when she saw, she groaned. Great Juno then
looked down in mercy on that lingering pain and labor to depart: from realms divine she sent the goddess of the rainbow wing, Iris, to set the struggling spirit free and loose its fleshly coil. For since the end came not by destiny, nor was the doom of guilty deed, but of a hapless wight to sudden madness stung, ere ripe to die, therefore the Queen of Hades had not shorn the fair tress from her forehead, nor assigned that soul to Stygian dark. So Iris came on dewy, saffron pinions down from heaven,
a thousand colors on her radiant way, from the opposing sun. She stayed her flight above that pallid brow: “I come with power to make this gift to Death. I set thee free from thy frail body's bound.” With her right hand she cut the tress: then through its every limb the sinking form grew cold; the vital breath fled forth, departing on the viewless air.
Book 5
Meanwhile Aeneas, now well launched away, steered forth with all the fleet to open sea, on his unswerving course, and ploughed the waves, sped by a driving gale; but when his eyes looked back on Carthage, they beheld the glare of hapless Dido's fire. Not yet was known what kindled the wild flames; but that the pang of outraged love is cruel, and what the heart of desperate woman dares, they knew too well, and sad foreboding shook each Trojan soul. Soon in mid-sea, beyond all chart of shore, when only seas and skies were round their way,
full in the zenith loomed a purple cloud, storm-laden, dark as night, and every wave grew black and angry; from his Iofty seat the helmsman Palinurus cried, “Alas! What means this host of storms encircling heaven? What, Neptune, wilt thou now?” He, having said, bade reef and tighten, bend to stronger stroke, and slant sail to the wind; then spake again: “High-souled Aeneas, not if Jove the King gave happy omen, would I have good hope of making Italy through yonder sky. Athwart our course from clouded evening-star
rebellious winds run shifting, and the air into a cloud-wrack rolls. Against such foes too weak our strife and strain! Since now the hand of Fortune triumphs, let us where she calls obedient go. For near us, I believe, lies Eryx' faithful and fraternal shore: here are Sicilian havens, if my mind of yon familiar stars have knowledge true.” then good Aeneas: “For a friendly wind long have I sued, and watched thee vainly strive. Shift sail! What happier land for me and mine, or for our storm-beat ships what safer shore,
than where Dardanian Acestes reigns; the land whose faithful bosom cherishes Anchises' ashes?” Heedful of his word, they landward steer, while favoring zephyrs fill the spreading sail. On currents swift and strong the fleet is wafted, and with thankful soul they moor on Sicily's familiar strand. From a far hill-top having seen with joy the entering ships, and knowing them for friends, good King Acestes ran to bid them hail. Garbed in rough pelt of Libyan bear was he, and javelins he bore, in sylvan guise:
for him the river-god Crimisus sired of Trojan wife. Remembering in his heart his ancient blood, he greeted with glad words the wanderers returned; bade welcome to his rude abundance, and with friendly gifts their weariness consoled. The morrow morn, soon as the new beams of a golden day had banished every star, Aeneas called a council of his followers on the shore, and from a fair green hillock gave this word: “Proud sons of Dardanus, whose lofty line none but the gods began! This day fulfils
the annual cycle of revolving time, since the dear relics of my god-like sire to earth we gave, and with dark offerings due built altars sorrowful. If now I err not, this is my day—ye gods have willed it so! — for mourning and for praise. Should it befall me exiled in Gaetulia's wilderness, or sailing some Greek sea, or at the walls of dire Mycenae, still would I renew unfailing vows, and make solemnity with thankful rites, and worshipful array, at altars rich with gifts. But, lo, we come,
beyond all hope, where lie the very bones of my great sire. Nor did it come to pass without divine intent and heavenly power, that on these hospitable shores we stand. Up, then! For we will make a festal day, imploring lucky winds! O, may his spirit grant me to build my city, where his shrines forever shall receive perpetual vows made in his name! This prince of Trojan line, Acestes, upon every ship bestows a pair of oxen. To our offerings call the powers that bless the altars and the fires
of our ancestral hearth; and join with these the gods of good Acestes. Presently, when the ninth dawn shall bring its beam benign to mortal men, and show the radiant world, or all my Teucrian people I ordain a holiday of games; the flying ships shall first contend; then swiftest runners try a foot-race; after that the champions bold who step forth for a cast of javelins, or boast the soaring arrow; or fear not the boxing-bout, with gauntlet of thick thongs. This summons is for all; let all have hope
to earn some noble palm! And from this hour speak but well-boding words, and bind your brows with garlands green.” So saying, he twined a wreath of his own mother's myrtle-tree, to shade his sacred brow; the hero Helymus, and King Acestes for his tresses gray, like coronals took on; Ascanius and all the warrior youth like emblems wore. Then in th' attendant throng conspicuous, with thousands at his side, the hero moved from place of council to his father's tomb. There on the ground he poured libation due,
two beakers of good wine, of sweet milk two, two of the victim's blood—and scattered flowers of saddest purple stain, while thus he prayed: “Hail, hallowed sire! And hail, ye ashes dear of him I vainly saved! O soul and shade of my blest father! Heaven to us denied to find together that predestined land of Italy, or our Ausonian stream of Tiber—ah! but where?” He scarce had said, when from the central shrine a gliding snake, coiled seven-fold in seven spirals wide, twined round the tomb and trailed innocuous o'er
the very altars; his smooth back was flecked with green and azure, and his changeful scales gleamed golden, as the cloud-born rainbow flings its thousand colors from th' opposing sun. Aeneas breathless watched the serpent wind among the bowls and cups of polished rim, tasting the sacred feast; where, having fed, back to the tomb all harmless it withdrew. Then with new zeal his sacrifice he brings in honor of his sire; for he must deem that serpent the kind genius of the place, or of his very father's present shade
some creature ministrant. Two lambs he slew, the wonted way, two swine, and, sable-hued, the yoke of bulls; from shallow bowl he poured libation of the grape, and called aloud on great Anchises' spirit, and his shade, from Acheron set free. Then all the throng, each from his separate store, heap up the shrines with victims slain; some range in order fair the brazen cauldrons; or along the grass, scattered at ease, hold o'er the embers bright the spitted flesh and roast it in the flames. Arrived the wished-for day; through cloudless sky
the coursers of the Sun's bright-beaming car bore upward the ninth morn. The neighboring folk thronged eager to the shore; some hoped to see Aeneas and his warriors, others fain would their own prowess prove in bout and game. Conspicuous lie the rewards, ranged in sight in the mid-circus; wreaths of laurel green, the honored tripod, coronals of palm for conquerors' brows, accoutrements of war, rare robes of purple stain, and generous weight of silver and of gold. The trumpet's call proclaimed from lofty mound the opening games.
First, side by side, with sturdy, rival oars, four noble galleys, pride of all the fleet, come forward to contend. The straining crew of Mnestheus bring his speedy Pristis on, — Mnestheus in Italy erelong the sire of Memmius' noble line. Brave Gyas guides his vast Chimaera, a colossal craft, a floating city, by a triple row of Dardan sailors manned, whose banks of oars in triple order rise. Sergestus, he of whom the Sergian house shall after spring, rides in his mighty Centaur. Next in line,
on sky-blue Scylla proud Cloanthus rides — whence thy great stem, Cluentius of Rome! Fronting the surf-beat shore, far out at sea rises a rock, which under swollen waves lies buffeted unseen, when wintry storms mantle the stars; but when the deep is calm, lifts silently above the sleeping wave its level field,—a place where haunt and play flocks of the sea-birds, Iovers of the sun. Here was the goal; and here Aeneas set a green-leaved flex-tree, to be a mark for every captain's eye, from whence to veer
the courses of their ships in sweeping curves and speed them home. Now places in the line are given by lot. Upon the lofty sterns the captains ride, in beautiful array of Tyriao purple and far-flaming gold; the crews are poplar-crowned, the shoulders bare rubbed well with glittering oil; their straining arms make long reach to the oar, as on the thwarts they sit attentive, listening for the call of the loud trumpet; while with pride and fear their hot hearts throb, impassioned for renown. Soon pealed the signal clear; from all the line
instant the galleys bounded, and the air rang to the rowers, shouting, while their arms pulled every inch and flung the waves in foam; deep cut the rival strokes; the surface fair yawned wide beneath their blades and cleaving keels. Not swifter scour the chariots o'er the plain, sped headlong from the line behind their teams of mated coursers, while each driver shakes loose, rippling reins above his plunging pairs, and o'er the lash leans far. With loud applause vociferous and many an urgent cheer the woodlands rang, and all the concave shores
back from the mountains took the Trojan cry in answering song. Forth-flying from his peers, while all the crowd acclaims, sped Gyas' keel along the outmost wave. Cloanthus next pushed hard upon, with stronger stroke of oars but heavier ship. At equal pace behind the Pristis and the Centaur fiercely strive for the third place. Now Pristis seems to lead, now mightier Centaur past her flies, then both ride on together, prow with prow, and cleave long lines of foaming furrow with swift keels. Soon near the rock they drew, and either ship
was making goal,—when Gyas, in the lead, and winner of the half-course, Ioudly hailed menoetes, the ship's pilot: “Why so far to starboard, we? Keep her head round this way! Hug shore! Let every oar-blade almost graze that reef to larboard! Let the others take the deep-sea course outside!” But while he spoke, Menoetes, dreading unknown rocks below, veered off to open sea. “Why steer so wide? Round to the rock, Menoetes!” Gyas roared, — again in vain, for looking back he saw cloanthus hard astern, and ever nearer,
who, in a trice, betwixt the booming reef and Gyas' galley, lightly forward thrust the beak of Scylla to the inside course, and, quickly taking lead, flew past the goal to the smooth seas beyond. Then wrathful grief flamed in the warrior's heart, nor was his cheek unwet with tears; and, reckless utterly of his own honor and his comrades, lives, he hurled poor, slack Menoetes from the poop headlong upon the waters, while himself, pilot and master both, the helm assuming, urged on his crew, and landward took his way.
But now, with heavy limbs that hardly won his rescue from the deep, engulfing wave, up the rude rock graybeard Menoetes climbed with garment dripping wet, and there dropped down upon the cliff's dry top. With laughter loud the Trojan crews had watched him plunging, swimming, and now to see his drink of bitter brine spewed on the ground, the sailors laughed again. But Mnestheus and Sergestus, coming last, have joyful hope enkindled in each heart to pass the laggard Gyas. In the lead Sergestus' ship shoots forth; and to the rock
runs boldly nigh; but not his whole long keel may pass his rival; the projecting beak is followed fast by Pristis' emulous prow. Then, striding straight amidships through his crew, thus Mnestheus urged them on: “O Hector's friends! Whom in the dying hours of Troy I chose for followers! Now stand ye to your best! Put forth the thews of valor that ye showed in the Gaetulian Syrtes, or that sea Ionian, or where the waves race by the Malean promontory! Mnestheus now hopes not to be the first, nor do I strive
for victory. O Father Neptune, give that garland where thou wilt! But O, the shame if we are last! Endure it not, my men! The infamy refuse!” So, bending low, they enter the home-stretch. Beneath their stroke the brass-decked galley throbs, and under her the sea-floor drops away. On, on they fly! Parched are the panting lips, and sweat in streams pours down their giant sides; but lucky chance brought the proud heroes what their honor craved. For while Sergestus furiously drove his ship's beak toward the rock, and kept inside
the scanty passage, by his evil star he grounded on the jutting reef; the cliffs rang with the blow, and his entangled oars grated along the jagged granite, while the prow hung wrecked and helpless. With loud cry upsprang the sailors, while the ship stood still, and pushed off with long poles and pointed iron, or snatched the smashed oars from the whirling tide. Mnestheus exults; and, roused to keener strife by happy fortune, with a quicker stroke of each bright rank of oars, and with the breeze his prayer implored, skims o'er the obedient wave
and sweeps the level main. Not otherwise a startled dove, emerging o'er the fields from secret cavern in the crannied hill where her safe house and pretty nestlings lie, soars from her nest, with whirring wings—but soon through the still sky she takes her path of air on pinions motionless. So Pristis sped with Mnestheus, cleaving her last stretch of sea, by her own impulse wafted. She outstripped Sergestus first; for he upon the reef fought with the breakers, desperately shouting for help, for help in vain, with broken oars
contriving to move on. Then Mnestheus ran past Gyas, in Chimaera's ponderous hulk, of pilot now bereft; at last remains Cloanthus his sole peer, whom he pursues with a supreme endeavor. From the shore burst echoing cheers that spur him to the chase, and wild applause makes all the welkin ring. The leaders now with eager souls would scorn to Iose their glory, and faint-hearted fail to grasp a prize half-won, but fain would buy honor with life itself; the followers too are flushed with proud success, and feel them strong
because their strength is proven. Both ships now with indistinguishable prows had sped to share one prize,—but with uplifted hands spread o'er the sea, Cloanthus, suppliant, called on the gods to bless his votive prayer: “Ye gods who rule the waves, whose waters be my pathway now; for you on yonder strand a white bull at the altar shall be slain in grateful tribute for a granted vow; and o'er the salt waves I will scatter far the entrails, and outpour the flowing wine.” He spoke; and from the caverns under sea
Phorcus and virgin Panopea heard, and all the sea-nymphs' choir; while with strong hand the kindly God of Havens rose and thrust the gliding ship along, that swifter flew than south wind, or an arrow from the string, and soon made land in haven safe and sure. Aeneas then, assembling all to hear, by a far-sounding herald's voice proclaimed Cloanthus victor, and arrayed his brows with the green laurel-garland; to the crews three bulls, at choice, were given, and plenteous wine and talent-weight of silver; to the chiefs
illustrious gifts beside; the victor had a gold-embroidered mantle with wide band of undulant Meliboean purple rare, where, pictured in the woof, young Ganymede through Ida's forest chased the light-foot deer with javelin; all flushed and panting he. But lo! Jove's thunder-bearing eagle fell, and his strong talons snatched from Ida far the royal boy, whose aged servitors reached helpless hands to heaven; his faithful hound bayed fiercely at the air. To him whose worth the second place had won, Aeneas gave
a smooth-linked golden corselet, triple-chained, of which his own victorious hand despoiled Demoleos, by the swift, embattled stream of Simois, under Troy,—and bade it be a glory and defence on valor's field; scarce might the straining shoulders of two slaves, Phegeus and Sagaris, the load endure, yet oft Demoleos in this armor dressed charged down full speed on routed hosts of Troy. The third gift was two cauldrons of wrought brass, and bowls of beaten silver, cunningly embossed with sculpture fair. Bearing such gifts,
th' exultant victors onward moved, each brow bound with a purple fillet. But behold! Sergestus, from the grim rock just dragged off by cunning toil, one halting rank of oars left of his many lost, comes crawling in with vanquished ship, a mockery to all. As when a serpent, on the highway caught, some brazen wheel has crushed, or traveller with heavy-smiting blow left half alive and mangled by a stone; in vain he moves in writhing flight; a part is lifted high with hissing throat and angry, glittering eyes;
but by the wounded part a captive still he knots him fold on fold: with such a track the maimed ship labored slow; but by her sails she still made way, and with full canvas on arrived at land. Aeneas then bestowed a boon upon Sergestus, as was meet for reward of the ship in safety brought with all its men; a fair slave was the prize, the Cretan Pholoe, well taught to weave, and twin boy-babes upon her breast she bore. Then good Aeneas, the ship-contest o'er, turned to a wide green valley, circled round
with clasp of wood-clad hills, wherein was made an amphitheatre; entering with a throng of followers, the hero took his seat in mid-arena on a lofty mound. For the fleet foot-race, now, his summons flies, — he offers gifts, and shows the rewards due. The mingling youth of Troy and Sicily hastened from far. Among the foremost came the comrades Nisus and Euryalus, Euryalus for beauty's bloom renowned, Nisus for loyal love; close-following these Diores strode, a prince of Priam's line;
then Salius and Patron, who were bred in Acarnania and Arcady; then two Sicilian warriors, Helymus and Panopes, both sylvan bred and born, comrades of King Acestes; after these the multitude whom Fame forgets to tell. Aeneas, so surrounded, thus spake forth: “Hear what I purpose, and with joy receive! of all your company, not one departs with empty hand. The Cretan javelins bright-tipped with burnished steel, and battle-axe adorned with graven silver, these shall be
the meed of all. The three first at the goal shall bind their foreheads with fair olive green, and win the rewards due. The first shall lead, victorious, yon rich-bridled steed away; this Amazonian quiver, the next prize, well-stocked with Thracian arrows; round it goes a baldrick broad and golden,—in its clasp a lustrous gem. The third man goes away taking this helmet from the Argive spoil.” They heard, and took their places. The loud horn gave signal, and impetuous from the line, swift as a bursting storm they sped away,
eyes fixed upon the goal. Far in advance Nisus shot forward, swifter than the winds or winged thunderbolt; the next in course, next, but out-rivalled far, was Salius, and after him a space, Euryalus came third; him Helymus was hard upon; and, look! Diores follows, heel on heel, close at his shoulder—if the race be long he sure must win, or claim a doubtful prize. Now at the last stretch, spent and panting, all pressed to the goal, when in a slime of blood Nisus, hard fate! slipped down, where late the death
of victims slain had drenched the turf below. Here the young victor, with his triumph flushed, lost foothold on the yielding ground, and plunged face forward in the pool of filth and gore; but not of dear Euryalus was he forgetful then, nor heedless of his friend; but rising from the mire he hurled himself in Salius' way; so he in equal plight rolled in the filthy slough. Euryalus leaped forth, the winner of the race by gift of his true friend, and flying to the goal stood first, by many a favoring shout acclaimed.
Next Helymus ran in; and, for the third, last prize, Diores. But the multitude now heard the hollowed hill-side ringing with wild wrath from Salius, clamoring where the chieftains sate for restitution of his stolen prize, lost by a cheat. But general favor smiles upon Euryalus, whose beauteous tears commend him much, and nobler seems the worth of valor clothed in youthful shape so fair. Diores, too, assists the victor's claim, with loud appeal—he too has won a prize, and vainly holds his last place, if the first
to Salius fall. Aeneas then replied: “Your gifts, my gallant youths, remain secure. None can re-judge the prize. But to console the misadventure of a blameless friend, is in my power.” Therewith to Salius an Afric lion's monstrous pelt he gave, with ponderous mane, the claws o'erlaid with gold. But Nisus cried: “If such a gift be found for less than victory, and men who fall are worthy so much sorrow, pray, what prize shall Nisus have? For surely I had won the proudest of the garlands, if one stroke
of inauspicious fortune had not fallen on Salius and me.” So saying, he showed his smeared face and his sorry limbs befouled with mire and slime. Then laughed the gracious sire, and bade a shield be brought, the cunning work of Didymaon, which the Greeks tore down from Neptune's temple; with this noble gift he sent the high-born youth upon his way. The foot-race over and the gifts disbursed, “Come forth!” he cries, “if any in his heart have strength and valor, let him now pull on the gauntlets and uplift his thong-bound arms
in challenge.” For the reward of this fight a two-fold gift he showed: the victor's meed, a bullock decked and gilded; but a sword and glittering helmet to console the fallen. Straightway, in all his pride of giant strength, Dares Ioomed up, and wondering murmurs ran along the gazing crowd; for he alone was wont to match with Paris, he it was met Butes, the huge-bodied champion boasting the name and race of Amycus, Bythinian-born; him felled he at a blow, and stretched him dying on the tawny sand.
Such Dares was, who now held high his head, fierce for the fray, bared both his shoulders broad, lunged out with left and right, and beat the air. Who shall his rival be? Of all the throng not one puts on the gauntlets, or would face the hero's challenge. Therefore, striding forth, believing none now dare but yield the palm, he stood before Aeneas, and straightway seized with his left hand the bull's golden horn, and cried, “O goddess-born, if no man dares to risk him in this fight, how Iong delay? how Iong beseems it I should stand and wait?
Bid me bear off my prize.” The Trojans all murmured assent, and bade the due award of promised gift. But with a brow severe Acestes to Entellus at his side addressed upbraiding words, where they reclined on grassy bank and couch of pleasant green: “O my Entellus, in the olden days bravest among the mighty, but in vain! Endurest thou to see yon reward won without a blow? Where, prithee, is that god who taught thee? Are thy tales of Eryx vain? Does all Sicilia praise thee? Is thy roof
with trophies hung?” The other in reply: “My jealous honor and good name yield not to fear. But age, so cold and slow to move, makes my blood laggard, and my ebbing powers in all my body are but slack and chill. O, if I had what yonder ruffian boasts— my own proud youth once more! I would not ask the fair bull for a prize, nor to the lists in search of gifts come forth.” So saying, he threw into the mid-arena a vast pair of ponderous gauntlets, which in former days fierce Eryx for his fights was wont to bind
on hand and arm, with the stiff raw-hide thong. All marvelled; for a weight of seven bulls' hides was pieced with lead and iron. Dares stared astonished, and step after step recoiled; high-souled Anchises' son, this way and that, turned o'er the enormous coil of knots and thongs; then with a deep-drawn breath the veteran spoke: “O, that thy wondering eyes had seen the arms of Hercules, and what his gauntlets were! Would thou hadst seen the conflict terrible upon this self-same shore! These arms were borne by Eryx. Look; thy brother's!—spattered yet
with blood, with dashed-out brains! In these he stood when he matched Hercules. I wore them oft when in my pride and prime, ere envious age shed frost upon my brows. But if these arms be of our Trojan Dares disapproved, if good Aeneas rules it so, and King Acestes wills it, let us offer fight on even terms. Let Eryx' bull's-hide go. Tremble no more! But strip those gauntlets off — fetched here from Troy.” So saying, he dropped down the double-folded mantle from his shoulders, stripped bare the huge joints, the huge arms and thews,
and towered gigantic in the midmost ring. Anchises' son then gave two equal pairs of gauntlets, and accoutred with like arms both champions. Each lifted him full height on tiptoe; each with mien unterrified held both fists high in air, and drew his head far back from blows assailing. Then they joined in struggle hand to hand, and made the fray each moment fiercer. One was light of foot and on his youth relied; the other strong in bulk of every limb, but tottering on sluggish knees, while all his body shook
with labor of his breath. Without avail they rained their blows, and on each hollow side, each sounding chest, the swift, reverberate strokes fell without pause; around their ears and brows came blow on blow, and with relentless shocks the smitten jaws cracked loud. Entellus stands unshaken, and, the self-same posture keeping, only by body-movement or quick eye parries attack. Dares (like one in siege against a mountain-citadel, who now will drive with ram and engine at the craggy wall, now wait in full-armed watch beneath its towers)
tries manifold approach, most craftily invests each point of vantage, and renews his unsuccessful, ever various war. Then, rising to the stroke, Entellus poised aloft his ponderous right; but, quick of eye, the other the descending wrath foresaw and nimbly slipped away; Entellus so wasted his stroke on air, and, self-o'erthrown, dropped prone to earth his monstrous length along, as when on Erymanth or Ida falls a hollowed pine from giant roots uptorn. Alike the Teucrian and Trinacrian throng
shout wildly; while Acestes, pitying, hastes to lift his gray companion. But, unchecked, undaunted by his fall, the champion brave rushed fiercer to the fight, his strength now roused by rage, while shame and courage confident kindle his soul; impetuous he drives Dares full speed all round the ring, with blows redoubled right and left. No stop or stay gives he, but like a storm of rattling hail upon a house-top, so from each huge hand the champion's strokes on dizzy Dares fall. Then Sire Aeneas willed to make a stay
to so much rage, nor let Entellus' soul flame beyond bound, but bade the battle pause, and, rescuing weary Dares, thus he spoke in soothing words: “Ill-starred! What mad attempt is in thy mind? Will not thy heart confess thy strength surpassed, and auspices averse? Submit, for Heaven decrees!” With such wise words he sundered the fell strife. But trusty friends bore Dares off: his spent limbs helpless trailed, his head he could not lift, and from his lips came blood and broken teeth. So to the ship they bore him, taking, at Aeneas' word,
the helmet and the sword—but left behind Entellus' prize of victory, the bull. He, then, elate and glorying, spoke forth: “See, goddess-born, and all ye Teucrians, see, what strength was mine in youth, and from what death ye have clelivered Dares.” Saying so, he turned him full front to the bull, who stood for reward of the fight, and, drawing back his right hand, poising the dread gauntlet high, swung sheer between the horns and crushed the skull; a trembling, lifeless creature, to the ground the bull dropped forward dead. Above the fallen
Entellus cried aloud, “This victim due I give thee, Eryx, more acceptable than Dares' death to thy benignant shade. For this last victory and joyful day, my gauntlets and my art I leave with thee.” Forthwith Aeneas summons all who will to contest of swift arrows, and displays reward and prize. With mighty hand he rears a mast within th' arena, from the ship of good Sergestus taken; and thereto a fluttering dove by winding cord is bound for target of their shafts. Soon to the match
the rival bowmen came and cast the lots into a brazen helmet. First came forth Hippocoon's number, son of Hyrtacus, by cheers applauded; Mnestheus was the next, late victor in the ship-race, Mnestheus crowned with olive-garland; next Eurytion, brother of thee, O bowman most renowned, Pandarus, breaker of the truce, who hurled his shaft upon the Achaeans, at the word the goddess gave. Acestes' Iot and name came from the helmet last, whose royal hand the deeds of youth dared even yet to try.
Each then with strong arm bends his pliant bow, each from the quiver plucks a chosen shaft. First, with loud arrow whizzing from the string, the young Hippocoon with skyward aim cuts through the yielding air; and lo! his barb pierces the very wood, and makes the mast tremble; while with a fluttering, frighted wing the bird tugs hard,—and plaudits fill the sky. Boldly rose Mnestheus, and with bow full-drawn aimed both his eye and shaft aloft; but he failing, unhappy man, to bring his barb up to the dove herself, just cut the cord
and broke the hempen bond, whereby her feet were captive to the tree: she, taking flight, clove through the shadowing clouds her path of air. But swiftly—for upon his waiting bow he held a shaft in rest—Eurytion invoked his brother's shade, and, marking well the dove, whose happy pinions fluttered free in vacant sky, pierced her, hard by a cloud; lifeless she fell, and left in light of heaven her spark of life, as, floating down, she bore the arrow back to earth. Acestes now remained, last rival, though the victor's palm
to him was Iost; yet did the aged sire, to show his prowess and resounding bow, hurl forth one shaft in air; then suddenly all eyes beheld such wonder as portends events to be (but when fulfilment came, too late the fearful seers its warning sung): for, soaring through the stream of cloud, his shaft took fire, tracing its bright path in flame, then vanished on the wind,—as oft a star will fall unfastened from the firmament, while far behind its blazing tresses flow. Awe-struck both Trojan and Trinacrian stood,
calling upon the gods. Nor came the sign in vain to great Aeneas. But his arms folded the blest Acestes to his heart, and, Ioading him with noble gifts, he cried: “Receive them, sire! The great Olympian King some peerless honor to thy name decrees by such an omen given. I offer thee this bowl with figures graven, which my sire, good gray Anchises, for proud gift received of Thracian Cisseus, for their friendship's pledge and memory evermore.” Thereon he crowned his brows with garland of the laurel green,
and named Acestes victor over all. Nor could Eurytion, noble youth, think ill of honor which his own surpassed, though he, he only, pierced the bird in upper air. Next gift was his whose arrow cut the cord; last, his whose light shaft clove the lofty pine. Father Aeneas now, not making end of game and contest, summoned to his side Epytides, the mentor and true friend of young Iulus, and this bidding gave to his obedient ear: “Arise and go where my Ascanius has lined his troop
of youthful cavalry, and trained the steeds to tread in ranks of war. Bid him lead forth the squadron in our sire Anchises' name, and wear a hero's arms!” So saying, he bade the course be cleared, and from the whole wide field th' insurging, curious multitude withdrew. In rode the boys, to meet their parents' eyes, in even lines, a glittering cavalry; while all Trinacria and the host from Troy made loud applause. On each bright brow a well-trimmed wreath the flowing tresses bound; two javelins of corner tipped with steel
each bore for arms; some from the shoulder slung a polished quiver; to each bosom fell a pliant necklace of fine, twisted gold. Three bands of horsemen ride, three captains proud prance here and there, assiduous in command, each of his twelve, who shine in parted lines which lesser captains lead. One cohort proud follows a little Priam's royal name — one day, Polites, thy illustrious race through him prolonged, shall greater glory bring to Italy. A dappled Thracian steed with snow-white spots and fore-feet white as snow
bears him along, its white face lifted high. Next Atys rode, young Atys, sire to be of th' Atian house in Rome, a boy most dear unto the boy Iulus; last in line, and fairest of the throng, Iulus came, astride a steed from Sidon, the fond gift of beauteous Dido and her pledge of love. Close followed him the youthful chivalry of King Acestes on Trinacrian steeds. The Trojans, with exultant, Ioud acclaim, receive the shy-faced boys, and joyfully trace in the features of the sons their sires.
After, with smiling eyes, the horsemen proud have greeted each his kin in all the throng, Epytides th' appointed signal calls, and cracks his lash; in even lines they move, then, Ioosely sundering in triple band, wheel at a word and thrust their lances forth in hostile ranks; or on the ample field retreat or charge, in figure intricate of circling troop with troop, and swift parade of simulated war; now from the field they flee with backs defenceless to the foe; then rally, lance in rest—or, mingling all,
make common front, one legion strong and fair. As once in Crete, the lofty mountain-isle, that-fabled labyrinthine gallery wound on through lightless walls, with thousand paths which baffled every clue, and led astray in unreturning mazes dark and blind: so did the sons of Troy their courses weave in mimic flights and battles fought for play, like dolphins tumbling in the liquid waves, along the Afric or Carpathian seas. This game and mode of march Ascanius, when Alba Longa's bastions proudly rose,
taught to the Latin people of the prime; and as the princely Trojan and his train were wont to do, so Alba to her sons the custom gave; so glorious Rome at last the heritage accepted and revered; and still we know them for the “Trojan Band,” and call the lads a “Troy.” Such was the end of game and contest at Anchises' grave. Then fortune veered and different aspect wore. For 'ere the sacred funeral games are done, Saturnian Juno from high heaven sent down the light-winged Iris to the ships of Troy,
giving her flight good wind—still full of schemes and hungering to avenge her ancient wrong. Unseen of mortal eye, the virgin took her pathway on the thousand-colored bow, and o'er its gliding passage earthward flew. She scanned the vast assemblage; then her gaze turned shoreward, where along the idle bay the Trojan galleys quite unpeopled rode. But far removed, upon a lonely shore, a throng of Trojan dames bewailed aloud their lost Anchises, and with tears surveyed the mighty deep. “O weary waste of seas!
What vast, untravelled floods beyond us roll!” So cried they with one voice, and prayed the gods for an abiding city; every heart loathed utterly the long, laborious sea. Then in their midst alighted, not unskilled in working woe, the goddess; though she wore nor garb nor form divine, but made herself one Beroe, Doryclus' aged wife, who in her happier days had lineage fair and sons of noble name; in such disguise she called the Trojan dames:“O ye ill-starred, that were not seized and slain by Grecian foes
under your native walls! O tribe accursed, what death is Fate preparing? Since Troy fell the seventh summer flies, while still we rove o'er cruel rocks and seas, from star to star, from alien land to land, as evermore we chase, storm-tossed, that fleeting Italy across the waters wide. Behold this land of Eryx, of Acestes, friend and kin; what hinders them to raise a rampart here and build a town? O city of our sires! O venerated gods from haughty foes rescued in vain! Will nevermore a wall
rise in the name of Troy? Shall I not see a Xanthus or a Simois, the streams to Hector dear? Come now! I lead the way. Let us go touch their baneful ships with fire! I saw Cassandra in a dream. Her shade, prophetic ever, gave me firebrands, and cried, ‘Find Ilium so! The home for thee is where thou art.’ Behold, the hour is ripe for our great act! No longer now delay to heed the heavenly omen. Yonder stand four altars unto Neptune. 'T is the god, the god himself, gives courage for the deed,
and swift-enkindling fire.” So having said, she seized a dreadful brand; then, lifting high, waved it all flaming, and with furious arm hurled it from far. The Ilian matrons gazed, bewildered and appalled. But one, of all the eldest, Pyrgo, venerated nurse of Priam's numerous sons, exclaimed, “Nay, nay! This is no Beroe, my noble dames. Doryclus knew her not. Behold and see her heavenly beauty and her radiant eyes! What voice of music and majestic mien, what movement like a god! Myself am come
from Beroe sick, and left her grieving sore that she, she only, had no gift to bring of mournful honor to Anchises' shade.” She spoke. The women with ill-boding eyes looked on the ships. Their doubting hearts were torn 'twixt tearful passion for the beauteous isle their feet then trod, and that prophetic call of Fate to lands unknown. Then on wide wings soared Iris into heaven, and through the clouds clove a vast arch of light. With wonder dazed, the women in a shrieking frenzy rose, took embers from the hearth-stones, stole the fires
upon the altars—faggots, branches, brands — and rained them on the ships. The god of fire, through thwarts and oars and bows of painted fir, ran in unbridled flame. Swift to the tomb of Sire Anchises, to the circus-seats, the messenger Eumelus flew, to bring news of the ships on fire; soon every eye the clouds of smoke and hovering flame could see. Ascanius, who had led with smiling brow his troops of horse, accoutred as he was, rode hot-haste to the turmoil of the camp, nor could his guards restrain . “What madness now?
What is it ye would do?” he cried. “Alas! Ill-fated women! Not our enemies, nor the dread bulwarks of the Greek ye burn, but all ye have to hope for. Look at me, your own Ascanius!” His helmet then into their midst he flung, which he had worn for pageantry of war. Aeneas, too, with Trojan bands sped thither. But far off, the women, panic-scattered on the shore, fled many ways, and deep in caverned crags or shadowed forests hid them, for they Ioathed their deed and life itself; their thoughts were changed;
they knew their kin and husbands, and their hearts from Juno were set free. But none the less the burning and indomitable flames raged without stay; beneath the ships' smeared sides the hempen fuel puffed a lingering smoke, as, through the whole bulk creeping, the slow fire devoured its way; and little it availed that strong men fought the fire with stream on stream. Then good Aeneas from his shoulder rent his garment, and with lifted hands implored the help of Heaven. “O Jove omnipotent! If thou not yet thy wrath implacable
on every Trojan pourest, if thou still hast pity, as of old, for what men bear, O, grant my fleet deliverance from this flame! From uttermost destruction, Father, save our desperate Trojan cause! Or even now — last cruelty! thy fatal thunders throw. If this be my just meed, let thy dread arm confound us all.” But scarce the prayer is said, when with a bursting deluge a dark storm falls, marvellous to see; while hills and plains with thunder shake, and to each rim of heaven spreads swollen cloud-rack, black with copious rain
and multitudinous gales. The full flood pours on every ship, and all the smouldering beams are drenched, until the smoke and flames expire and (though four ships be lost) the burning fleet rides rescued from its doom. But smitten sore by this mischance, Aeneas doubtfully weighs in his heart its mighty load of cares, and ponders if indeed he may abide in Sicily, not heeding prophet-songs, or seek Italian shores. Thereon uprose Nautes, an aged sire, to whom alone Tritonian Pallas of her wisdom gave
and made his skill renowned; he had the power to show celestial anger's warning signs, or tell Fate's fixed decree. The gifted man thus to Aeneas comfortably spoke: “O goddess-born, we follow here or there, as Fate compels or stays. But come what may, he triumphs over Fortune, who can bear whate'er she brings. Behold, Acestes draws from Dardanus his origin divine! Make him thy willing friend, to share with thee thy purpose and thy counsel. Leave with him the crews of the lost ships, and all whose hearts
repine at thy high task and great emprise: the spent old men, the women ocean-weary, whate'er is feeble found, or faint of heart in danger's hour,—set that apart, and give such weary ones within this friendly isle a city called Acesta,—if he will.” Much moved Aeneas was by this wise word of his gray friend, though still his anxious soul was vexed by doubt and care. But when dark night had brought her chariot to the middle sky, the sacred shade of Sire Anchises seemed, from heaven descending, thus to speak aloud:
“My son, than life more dear, when life was mine! O son, upon whose heart the Trojan doom has weighed so Iong! Beside thy couch I stand, at pleasure of great Jove, whose hand dispelled the mad fire from thy ships; and now he looks from heaven with pitying brow. I bid thee heed the noble counsels aged Nautes gave. Only with warriors of dauntless breast to Italy repair; of hardy breed, of wild, rough life, thy Latin foes will be. But first the shores of Pluto and the Shades thy feet must tread, and through the deep abyss
of dark Avernus come to me, thy sire: for I inhabit not the guilty gloom of Tartarus, but bright Elysian day, where all the just their sweet assemblies hold. Hither the virgin Sibyl, if thou give full offerings of the blood of sable kine, shall lead thee down; and visions I will show of cities proud and nations sprung from thee. Farewell, for dewy Night has wheeled her way far past her middle course; the panting steeds of orient Morn breathe pitiless upon me.” He spoke, and passed, like fleeting clouds of smoke,
to empty air. “O, whither haste away?” Aeneas cried. “Whom dost thou fly? What god from my fond yearning and embrace removes?” Then on the altar of the gods of Troy he woke the smouldering embers, at the shrine of venerable Vesta, worshipping with hallowed bread and incense burning free. Straightway he calls assembly of his friends, — Acestes first in honor,—and makes known Jove's will, the counsel of his cherished sire, and his own fresh resolve. With prompt assent they hear his word, nor does Acestes fail
the task to share. They people the new town with women; and leave every wight behind who wills it—souls not thirsting for high praise. Themselves re-bench their ships, rebuild, and fit with rope and oar the flame-swept galleys all; a band not large, but warriors bold and true. Aeneas, guiding with his hand a plough, marks out the city's ground, gives separate lands by lot, and bids within this space appear a second Troy. Trojan Acestes takes the kingly power, and with benignant joy appoints a forum, and decrees just laws
before a gathered senate. Then they raise on that star-circled Erycinian hill, the temple to Idalian Venus dear; and at Anchises' sepulchre ordain a priesthood and wide groves of hallowed shade. Now the nine days of funeral pomp are done, and every altar has had honors due from all the folk. Now tranquil-breathing winds have levelled the great deep, while brisk and free, a favoring Auster bids them launch away. But sound of many a wailing voice is heard along the winding shore; for ere they go,
in fond embraces for a night and day they linger still. The women—aye, and men! — who hated yesterday the ocean's face and loathed its name, now clamor to set sail and bear all want and woe to exiles known. But good Aeneas with benignant words their sorrow soothes, and, not without a tear, consigns them to Acestes' kindred care. Then bids he sacrifice to Eryx' shade three bulls, and to the wind-gods and the storm a lamb, then loose the ships in order due. He, with a garland of shorn olive, stood
holding aloft the sacrificial bowl from his own vessel's prow, and scattered far the sacred entrails o'er the bitter wave, with gift of flowing wine. Swift at the stern a fair wind rose and thrust them; while the crews with rival strokes swept o'er the spreading sea. Venus, the while, disturbed with grief and care, to Neptune thus her sorrowing heart outpoured: “Stern Juno's wrath and breast implacable compel me, Neptune, to abase my pride in lowly supplication. Lapse of days, nor prayers, nor virtues her hard heart subdue,
nor Jove's command; nor will she rest or yield at Fate's decree. Her execrable grudge is still unfed, although she did consume the Trojan city, Phrygia's midmost throne, and though she has accomplished stroke on stroke of retribution. But she now pursues the remnant—aye! the ashes and bare bones of perished Ilium; though the cause and spring of wrath so great none but herself can tell. Wert thou not witness on the Libyan wave what storm she stirred, immingling sea and sky, and with Aeolian whirlwinds made her war, —
in vain and insolent invasion, sire, of thine own realm and power? Behold, but now, goading to evil deeds the Trojan dames, she basely burned his ships; he in strange lands must leave the crews of his Iost fleet behind. O, I entreat thee, let the remnant sail in safety o'er thy sea, and end their way in Tiber's holy stream;—if this my prayer be lawful, and that city's rampart proud be still what Fate intends.”Then Saturn's son, the ruler of the seas profound, replied: “Queen of Cythera, it is meet for thee
to trust my waves from which thyself art sprung. Have I not proved a friend, and oft restrained the anger and wild wrath of seas and skies? On land, let Simois and Xanthus tell if I have loved Aeneas! On that day Achilles drove the shuddering hosts of Troy in panic to the walls, and hurled to death innumerable foes, until the streams were choked with dead, and Xanthus scarce could find his wonted path to sea; that self-same day, aeneas, spent, and with no help of Heaven, met Peleus' dreadful son:—who else but I
in cloudy mantle bore him safe afar? Though 't was my will to cast down utterly the walls of perjured Troy, which my own hands had built beside the sea. And even to-day my favor changes not. Dispel thy fear! Safe, even as thou prayest, he shall ride to Cumae's haven, where Avernus lies. One only sinks beneath th' engulfing seas, — one life in lieu of many.” Having soothed and cheered her heart divine, the worshipped sire flung o'er his mated steeds a yoke of gold, bridled the wild, white mouths, and with strong hand
shook out long, Ioosened reins. His azure car skimmed light and free along the crested waves; before his path the rolling billows all were calm and still, and each o'er-swollen flood sank 'neath his sounding wheel; while from the skies the storm-clouds fled away. Behind him trailed a various company; vast bulk of whales, the hoary band of Glaucus, Ino's son, Palaemon and the nimble Tritons all, the troop of Phorcus; and to leftward ranged Thalia, Thetis, and fair Alelite, with virgin Panopea, and the nymphs
Nesaea, Spio and Cymodoce. Now in Aeneas' ever-burdened breast the voice of hope revived. He bade make haste to raise the masts, spread canvas on the spars; all hands hauled at the sheets, and left or right shook out the loosened sails, or twirled in place the horn-tipped yards. Before a favoring wind the fleet sped on. The line in close array was led by Palinurus, in whose course all ships were bid to follow. Soon the car of dewy Night drew near the turning-point of her celestial round. The oarsmen all
yielded their limbs to rest, and prone had fallen on the hard thwarts, in deep, unpillowed slumber. Then from the high stars on light-moving wings, the God of Sleep found passage through the dark and clove the gloom,—to bring upon thy head, O Palinurus, an ill-boding sleep, though blameless thou. Upon thy ship the god in guise of Phorbas stood, thus whispering: “Look, Palinurus, how the flowing tides lift on thy fleet unsteered, and changeless winds behind thee breathe! 'T is now a happy hour take thy rest. Lay down the weary head.
Steal tired eyes from toiling. I will do thine office for thee, just a little space.” But Palinurus, lifting scarce his eyes, thus answered him: “Have I not known the face of yonder placid seas and tranquil waves? Put faith in such a monster? Could I trust — I, oft by ocean's treacherous calm betrayed — my lord Aeneas to false winds and skies?” So saying, he grasped his rudder tight, and clung more firmly, fixing on the stars his eyes. Then waved the god above his brows a branch wet with the dews of Lethe and imbued
with power of Stygian dark, until his eyes wavered and slowly sank. The slumberous snare had scarce unbound his limbs, when, leaning o'er, the god upon the waters flung him forth, hands clutching still the helm and ship-rail torn, and calling on his comrades, but in vain. Then soared th' immortal into viewless air; and in swift course across the level sea the fleet sped safe, protected from all fear by Neptune's vow. Yet were they drawing nigh the sirens' island-steep, where oft are seen white, bleaching bones, and to the distant ear
the rocks roar harshly in perpetual foam. Then of his drifting fleet and pilot gone Aeneas was aware, and, taking helm, steered through the midnight waves, with many a sigh; and, by his comrade's pitiable death sore-smitten, cried, “O, thou didst trust too far fair skies and seas, and liest without a grave, my Palinurus, in a land unknown!”
Book 6
After such words and tears, he flung free rein To the swift fleet, which sped along the wave To old Euboean Cumae's sacred shore. They veer all prows to sea; the anchor fluke Makes each ship sure, and shading the long strand The rounded sterns jut o'er. Impetuously The eager warriors leap forth to land Upon Hesperian soil. One strikes the flint To find the seed-spark hidden in its veins; One breaks the thick-branched trees, and steals away The shelter where the woodland creatures bide; One leads his mates where living waters flow.
Aeneas, servant of the gods, ascends The templed hill where lofty Phoebus reigns, And that far-off, inviolable shrine Of dread Sibylla, in stupendous cave, O'er whose deep soul the god of Delos breathes Prophetic gifts, unfolding things to come. Here are pale Trivia's golden house and grove. Here Daedalus, the ancient story tells, Escaping Minos' power, and having made Hazard of heaven on far-mounting wings, Floated to northward, a cold, trackless way, And lightly poised, at last, o'er Cumae's towers.
Here first to earth come down, he gave to thee His gear of wings, Apollo! and ordained Vast temples to thy name and altars fair. On huge bronze doors Androgeos' death was done; And Cecrops' children paid their debt of woe, Where, seven and seven,—0 pitiable sight!— The youths and maidens wait the annual doom, Drawn out by lot from yonder marble urn. Beyond, above a sea, lay carven Crete:— The bull was there; the passion, the strange guile; And Queen Pasiphae's brute-human son, The Minotaur—of monstrous loves the sign.
Here was the toilsome, labyrinthine maze, Where, pitying love-lorn Ariadne's tears, The crafty Daedalus himself betrayed The secret of his work; and gave the clue To guide the path of Theseus through the gloom. 0 Icarus, in such well-graven scene How proud thy place should be! but grief forbade: Twice in pure gold a father's fingers strove To shape thy fall, and twice they strove in vain. Aeneas long the various work would scan; But now Achates comes, and by his side Deiphobe, the Sibyl, Glaucus' child.
Thus to the prince she spoke : “Is this thine hour To stand and wonder? Rather go obtain From young unbroken herd the bullocks seven, And seven yearling ewes, our wonted way.” Thus to Aeneas; his attendants haste To work her will; the priestess, calling loud, Gathers the Trojans to her mountain-shrine. Deep in the face of that Euboean crag A cavern vast is hollowed out amain, With hundred openings, a hundred mouths, Whence voices flow, the Sibyl's answering songs.
While at the door they paused, the virgin cried : “Ask now thy doom!—the god! the god is nigh!” So saying, from her face its color flew, Her twisted locks flowed free, the heaving breast Swelled with her heart's wild blood; her stature seemed Vaster, her accent more than mortal man, As all th' oncoming god around her breathed : “On with thy vows and prayers, 0 Trojan, on! For only unto prayer this haunted cave May its vast lips unclose.” She spake no more. An icy shudder through the marrow ran Of the bold Trojans; while their sacred King
Poured from his inmost soul this plaint and prayer : “Phoebus, who ever for the woes of Troy Hadst pitying eyes! who gavest deadly aim To Paris when his Dardan shaft he hurled On great Achilles! Thou hast guided me Through many an unknown water, where the seas Break upon kingdoms vast, and to the tribes Of the remote Massyli, whose wild land To Syrtes spreads. But now; because at last I touch Hesperia's ever-fleeting bound, May Troy's ill fate forsake me from this day! 0 gods and goddesses, beneath whose wrath
Dardania's glory and great Ilium stood, Spare, for ye may, the remnant of my race! And thou, most holy prophetess, whose soul Foreknows events to come, grant to my prayer (Which asks no kingdom save what Fate decrees) That I may stablish in the Latin land My Trojans, my far-wandering household-gods, And storm-tossed deities of fallen Troy. Then unto Phoebus and his sister pale A temple all of marble shall be given, And festal days to Phoebus evermore. Thee also in my realms a spacious shrine
Shall honor; thy dark books and holy songs I there will keep, to be my people's law; And thee, benignant Sibyl for all time A company of chosen priests shall serve. O, not on leaves, light leaves, inscribe thy songs! Lest, playthings of each breeze, they fly afar In swift confusion! Sing thyself, I pray.” So ceased his voice;the virgin through the cave, Scarce bridled yet by Phoebus' hand divine, Ecstatic swept along, and vainly stove To fing its potent master from her breast; But he more strongly plied his rein and curb
Upon her frenzied lips, and soon subdued Her spirit fierce, and swayed her at his will. Free and self-moved the cavern's hundred adoors Swung open wide, and uttered to the air The oracles the virgin-priestess sung : “Thy long sea-perils thou hast safely passed; But heavier woes await thee on the land. Truly thy Trojans to Lavinian shore Shall come—vex not thyself thereon—but, oh! Shall rue their coming thither! war, red war! And Tiber stained with bloody foam I see. Simois, Xanthus, and the Dorian horde
Thou shalt behold; a new Achilles now In Latium breathes,—he, too, of goddess born; And Juno, burden of the sons of Troy, Will vex them ever; while thyself shalt sue In dire distress to many a town and tribe Through Italy; the cause of so much ill Again shall be a hostess-queen, again A marriage-chamber for an alien bride. Oh! yield not to thy woe, but front it ever, And follow boldly whither Fortune calls. Thy way of safety, as thou least couldst dream, Lies through a city of the Greeks, thy foes.”
Thus from her shrine Cumaea's prophetess Chanted the dark decrees; the dreadful sound Reverberated through the bellowing cave, Commingling truth with ecstasies obscure. Apollo, as she raged, flung loosened rein, And thrust beneath her heart a quickening spur. When first her madness ceased, and her wild lips Were still at last, the hero thus began : “No tribulations new, 0 Sibyl blest, Can now confront me; every future pain I have foretasted; my prophetic soul Endured each stroke of fate before it fell.
One boon I ask. If of th' infernal King This be the portal where the murky wave Of swollen Acheron o'erflows its bound, Here let me enter and behold the face Of my loved sire. Thy hand may point the way; Thy word will open wide yon holy doors. My father through the flames and falling spears, Straight through the centre of our foes, I bore Upon these shoulders. My long flight he shared From sea to sea, and suffered at my side The anger of rude waters and dark skies,— Though weak—0 task too great for old and gray!
Thus as a suppliant at thy door to stand, Was his behest and prayer. On son and sire, 0 gracious one, have pity,—for thy rule Is over all; no vain authority Hadst thou from Trivia o'er th' Avernian groves. If Orpheus could call back his loved one's shade, Emboldened by the lyre's melodious string : If Pollux by the interchange of death Redeemed his twin, and oft repassed the way : If Theseus—but why name him? why recall Alcides' task? I, too, am sprung from Jove.” Thus, to the altar clinging, did he pray :
The Sibyl thus replied : “Offspring of Heaven, Anchises' son, the downward path to death Is easy; all the livelong night and day Dark Pluto's door stands open for a guest. But 0! remounting to the world of light, This is a task indeed, a strife supreme. Few, very few, whom righteous Jove did bless, Or quenchless virtue carried to the stars, Children of gods, have such a victory won. Grim forests stop the way, and, gliding slow, Cocytus circles through the sightless gloom. But if it be thy dream and fond desire
Twice o'er the Stygian gulf to travel, twice On glooms of Tartarus to set thine eyes, If such mad quest be now thy pleasure—hear What must be first fulfilled . A certain tree Hides in obscurest shade a golden bough, Of pliant stems and many a leaf of gold, Sacred to Proserpine, infernal Queen. Far in the grove it hides; in sunless vale Deep shadows keep it in captivity. No pilgrim to that underworld can pass But he who plucks this burgeoned, leafy gold; For this hath beauteous Proserpine ordained
Her chosen gift to be. Whene'er it is culled, A branch out-leafing in like golden gleam, A second wonder-stem, fails not to spring. Therefore go seek it with uplifted eyes! And when by will of Heaven thou findest it, Reach forth and pluck; for at a touch it yields, A free and willing gift, if Fate ordain; But otherwise no mortal strength avails, Nor strong, sharp steel, to rend it from the tree. Another task awaits; thy friend's cold clay Lies unentombed. Alas! thou art not ware (While in my house thou lingerest, seeking light)
That all thy ships are by his death defiled. Unto his resting-place and sepulchre, Go, carry him! And sable victims bring, In expiation, to his mournful shade. So at the last on yonder Stygian groves, And realms to things that breathe impassable, Thine eye shall gaze.” So closed her lips inspired. Aeneas then drew forth, with downcast eyes, From that dark cavern, pondering in his heart The riddle of his fate. His faithful friend Achates at his side, with paces slow, Companioned all his care, while their sad souls
Made mutual and oft-renewed surmise What comrade dead, what cold and tombless clay, The Sibyl's word would show. But as they mused, Behold Misenus on the dry sea-sands, By hasty hand of death struck guiltless down! A son of Aeolus, none better knew To waken heroes by the clarion's call, With war-enkindling sound. Great Hector's friend In happier days, he oft at Hector's side Strode to the fight with glittering lance and horn. But when Achilles stripped his fallen foe,
This dauntless hero to Aeneas gave Allegiance true, in not less noble cause. But, on a day, he chanced beside the sea To blow his shell-shaped horn, and wildly dared Challenge the gods themselves to rival song; Till jealous Triton, if the tale be true, Grasped the rash mortal, and out-flung him far 'mid surf-beat rocks and waves of whirling foam. Now from all sides, with tumult and loud cry, The Trojans came,—Aeneas leading all In faithful grief; they hasten to fulfil The Sibyl's mandate, and with many a tear
Build, altar-wise, a pyre, of tree on tree Heaped high as heaven : then they penetrate The tall, old forest, where wild creatures bide, And fell pitch-pines, or with resounding blows Of axe and wedge, cleave oak and ash-tree through, Or logs of rowan down the mountains roll. Aeneas oversees and shares the toil, Cheers on his mates, and swings a woodman's steel. But, sad at heart with many a doubt and care, O'erlooks the forest wide; then prays aloud : “0, that the Golden Bough from this vast grove Might o'er me shine! For, 0 Aeolides,
The oracle foretold thy fate, too well!” Scarce had he spoken, when a pair of doves Before his very eyes flew down from heaven To the green turf below; the prince of Troy Knew them his mother's birds, and joyful cried, “0, guide me on, whatever path there be! In airy travel through the woodland fly, To where yon rare branch shades the blessed ground. Fail thou not me, in this my doubtful hour, 0 heavenly mother!” So saying, his steps lie stayed, Close watching whither they should signal give; The lightly-feeding doves flit on and on,
Ever in easy ken of following eyes, Till over foul Avernus' sulphurous throat Swiftly they lift them through the liquid air, In silent flight, and find a wished-for rest On a twy-natured tree, where through green boughs Flames forth the glowing gold's contrasted hue. As in the wintry woodland bare and chill, Fresh-budded shines the clinging mistletoe, Whose seed is never from the parent tree O'er whose round limbs its tawny tendrils twine,— So shone th' out-leafing gold within the shade Of dark holm-oak, and so its tinsel-bract
Rustled in each light breeze. Aeneas grasped The lingering bough, broke it in eager haste, And bore it straightway to the Sibyl's shrine. Meanwhile the Trojans on the doleful shore Bewailed Misenus, and brought tribute there Of grief's last gift to his unheeding clay. First, of the full-sapped pine and well-hewn oak A lofty pyre they build; then sombre boughs Around it wreathe, and in fair order range Funereal cypress; glittering arms are piled High over all; on blazing coals they lift Cauldrons of brass brimmed o'er with waters pure;
And that cold, lifeless clay lave and anoint With many a moan and cry; on their last couch The poor, dead limbs they lay, and mantle o'er With purple vesture and familiar pall. Then in sad ministry the chosen few, With eyes averted, as our sires did use, Hold the enkindling torch beneath the pyre : They gather up and burn the gifts of myrrh, The sacred bread and bowls of flowing oil; And when in flame the dying embers fall, On thirsty ash they pour the streams of wine. Good Corynaeus, in an urn of brass
The gathered relics hides; and three times round, With blessed olive branch and sprinkling dew, Purges the people with ablution cold, In lustral rite; oft chanting, “Hail! Farewell!” Faithful Aeneas for his comrade built A mighty tomb, and dedicated there Trophy of arms, with trumpet and with oar, Beneath a windy hill, which now is called “Misenus,”—for all time the name to bear. After these toils, they hasten to fulfil What else the Sibyl said. Straightway they find A cave profound, of entrance gaping wide,
O'erhung with rock, in gloom of sheltering grove, Near the dark waters of a lake, whereby No bird might ever pass with scathless wing, So dire an exhalation is breathed out From that dark deep of death to upper air :— Hence, in the Grecian tongue, Aornos called. Here first four youthful bulls of swarthy hide Were led for sacrifice; on each broad brow The priestess sprinkled wine; 'twixt the two horns Outplucked the lifted hair, and cast it forth Upon the holy flames, beginning so Her offerings; then loudly sued the power
of Hecate, a Queen in heaven and hell. Some struck with knives, and caught in shallow bowls The smoking blood. Aeneas' lifted hand Smote with a sword a sable-fleeced ewe To Night, the mother of th' Eumenides, And Earth, her sister dread; next unto thee, O Proserpine, a curst and barren cow; Then unto Pluto, Stygian King, he built An altar dark, and piled upon the flames The ponderous entrails of the bulls, and poured Free o'er the burning flesh the goodly oil. Then lo! at dawn's dim, earliest beam began
Beneath their feet a groaning of the ground : The wooded hill-tops shook, and, as it seemed, She-hounds of hell howled viewless through the shade , To hail their Queen. “Away, 0 souls profane! Stand far away!” the priestess shrieked, “nor dare Unto this grove come near! Aeneas, on! Begin thy journey! Draw thy sheathed blade! Now, all thy courage! now, th' unshaken soul!” She spoke, and burst into the yawning cave With frenzied step; he follows where she leads, And strides with feet unfaltering at her side. Ye gods! who rule the spirits of the dead!
Ye voiceless shades and silent lands of night! 0 Phlegethon! 0 Chaos! let my song, If it be lawful, in fit words declare What I have heard; and by your help divine Unfold what hidden things enshrouded lie In that dark underworld of sightless gloom. They walked exploring the unpeopled night, Through Pluto's vacuous realms, and regions void, As when one's path in dreary woodlands winds Beneath a misty moon's deceiving ray, When Jove has mantled all his heaven in shade, And night seals up the beauty of the world.
In the first courts and entrances of Hell Sorrows and vengeful Cares on couches lie : There sad Old Age abides, Diseases pale, And Fear, and Hunger, temptress to all crime; Want, base and vile, and, two dread shapes to see, Bondage and Death : then Sleep, Death's next of kin; And dreams of guilty joy. Death-dealing War Is ever at the doors, and hard thereby The Furies' beds of steel, where wild-eyed Strife Her snaky hair with blood-stained fillet binds. There in the middle court a shadowy elm Its ancient branches spreads, and in its leaves
Deluding visions ever haunt and cling. Then come strange prodigies of bestial kind : Centaurs are stabled there, and double shapes Like Scylla, or the dragon Lerna bred, With hideous scream; Briareus clutching far His hundred hands, Chimaera girt with flame, A crowd of Gorgons, Harpies of foul wing, And giant Geryon's triple-monstered shade. Aeneas, shuddering with sudden fear, Drew sword and fronted them with naked steel; And, save his sage conductress bade him know These were but shapes and shadows sweeping by,
His stroke had cloven in vain the vacant air. Hence the way leads to that Tartarean stream Of Acheron, whose torrent fierce and foul Disgorges in Cocytus all its sands. A ferryman of gruesome guise keeps ward Upon these waters,—Charon, foully garbed, With unkempt, thick gray beard upon his chin, And staring eyes of flame; a mantle coarse, All stained and knotted, from his shoulder falls, As with a pole he guides his craft, tends sail, And in the black boat ferries o'er his dead;— Old, but a god's old age looks fresh and strong.
To those dim shores the multitude streams on— Husbands and wives, and pale, unbreathing forms Of high-souled heroes, boys and virgins fair, And strong youth at whose graves fond parents mourned. As numberless the throng as leaves that fall When autumn's early frost is on the grove; Or like vast flocks of birds by winter's chill Sent flying o'er wide seas to lands of flowers. All stood beseeching to begin their voyage Across that river, and reached out pale hands, In passionate yearning for its distant shore. But the grim boatman takes now these, now those,
Or thrusts unpitying from the stream away. Aeneas, moved to wonder and deep awe, Beheld the tumult; “Virgin seer!” he cried, . “Why move the thronging ghosts toward yonder stream? What seek they there? Or what election holds That these unwilling linger, while their peers Sweep forward yonder o'er the leaden waves?” To him, in few, the aged Sibyl spoke : “Son of Anchises, offspring of the gods, Yon are Cocytus and the Stygian stream, By whose dread power the gods themselves do fear To take an oath in vain. Here far and wide
Thou seest the hapless throng that hath no grave. That boatman Charon bears across the deep Such as be sepulchred with holy care. But over that loud flood and dreadful shore No trav'ler may be borne, until in peace His gathered ashes rest. A hundred years Round this dark borderland some haunt and roam, Then win late passage o'er the longed-for wave.” Aeneas lingered for a little space, Revolving in his soul with pitying prayer Fate's partial way. But presently he sees Leucaspis and the Lycian navy's lord,
Orontes; both of melancholy brow, Both hapless and unhonored after death, Whom, while from Troy they crossed the wind-swept seas, A whirling tempest wrecked with ship and crew. There, too, the helmsman Palinurus strayed : Who, as he whilom watched the Libyan stars, Had fallen, plunging from his lofty seat Into the billowy deep. Aeneas now Discerned his sad face through the blinding gloom, And hailed him thus : “0 Palinurus, tell What god was he who ravished thee away From me and mine, beneath the o'crwhelming wave?
Speak on! for he who ne'er had spoke untrue, Apollo's self, did mock my listening mind, And chanted me a faithful oracle That thou shouldst ride the seas unharmed, and touch Ausonian shores. Is this the pledge divine?” Then he, “0 chieftain of Anchises' race, Apollo's tripod told thee not untrue. No god did thrust me down beneath the wave, For that strong rudder unto which I clung, My charge and duty, and my ship's sole guide, Wrenched from its place, dropped with me as I fell. Not for myself—by the rude seas I swear—
Did I have terror, but lest thy good ship, Stripped of her gear, and her poor pilot lost, Should fail and founder in that rising flood. Three wintry nights across the boundless main The south wind buffeted and bore me on; At the fourth daybreak, lifted from the surge, I looked at last on Italy, and swam With weary stroke on stroke unto the land. Safe was I then. Alas! but as I climbed With garments wet and heavy, my clenched hand Grasping the steep rock, came a cruel horde Upon me with drawn blades, accounting me—
So blind they were!—a wrecker's prize and spoil. Now are the waves my tomb; and wandering winds Toss me along the coast. 0, I implore, By heaven's sweet light, by yonder upper air, By thy lost father, by Iulus dear, Thy rising hope and joy, that from these woes, Unconquered chieftain, thou wilt set me free! Give me a grave where Velia's haven lies, For thou hast power! Or if some path there be, If thy celestial mother guide thee here (For not, I ween, without the grace of gods Wilt cross yon rivers vast, you Stygian pool)
Reach me a hand! and bear with thee along! Until (least gift!) death bring me peace and calm.” Such words he spoke: the priestess thus replied: “Why, Palinurus, these unblest desires? Wouldst thou, unsepulchred, behold the wave Of Styx, stern river of th' Eumenides? Wouldst thou, unbidden, tread its fearful strand? Hope not by prayer to change the laws of Heaven! But heed my words, and in thy memory Cherish and keep, to cheer this evil time. Lo, far and wide, led on by signs from Heaven, Thy countrymen from many a templed town
Shall consecrate thy dust, and build thy tomb, A tomb with annual feasts and votive flowers, To Palinurus a perpetual fame!” Thus was his anguish stayed, from his sad heart Grief ebbed awhile, and even to this day, Our land is glad such noble name to wear. The twain continue now their destined way Unto the river's edge. The Ferryman, Who watched them through still groves approach his shore, Hailed them, at distance, from the Stygian wave, And with reproachful summons thus began: “Whoe'er thou art that in this warrior guise
Unto my river comest,—quickly tell Thine errand! Stay thee where thou standest now! This is ghosts' land, for sleep and slumbrous dark. That flesh and blood my Stygian ship should bear Were lawless wrong. Unwillingly I took Alcides, Theseus, and Pirithous, Though sons of gods, too mighty to be quelled. One bound in chains yon warder of Hell's door, And dragged him trembling from our monarch's throne: The others, impious, would steal away Out of her bride-bed Pluto's ravished Queen.” Briefly th' Amphrysian priestess made reply:
“Not ours, such guile: Fear not! This warrior's arms Are innocent. Let Cerberus from his cave Bay ceaselessly, the bloodless shades to scare; Let Proserpine immaculately keep The house and honor of her kinsman King. Trojan Aeneas, famed for faithful prayer And victory in arms, descends to seek His father in this gloomy deep of death. If loyal goodness move not such as thee, This branch at least” (she drew it from her breast) “Thou knowest well.” Then cooled his wrathful heart;
With silent lips he looked and wondering eyes Upon that fateful, venerable wand, Seen only once an age. Shoreward he turned, And pushed their way his boat of leaden hue. The rows of crouching ghosts along the thwarts He scattered, cleared a passage, and gave room To great Aeneas. The light shallop groaned Beneath his weight, and, straining at each seam, Took in the foul flood with unstinted flow. At last the hero and his priestess-guide Came safe across the river, and were moored 'mid sea-green sedges in the formless mire.
Here Cerberus, with triple-throated roar, Made all the region ring, as there he lay At vast length in his cave. The Sibyl then, Seeing the serpents writhe around his neck, Threw down a loaf with honeyed herbs imbued And drowsy essences: he, ravenous, Gaped wide his three fierce mouths and snatched the bait, Crouched with his large backs loose upon the ground, And filled his cavern floor from end to end. Aeneas through hell's portal moved, while sleep Its warder buried; then he fled that shore Of Stygian stream, whence travellers ne'er return.
Now hears he sobs, and piteous, lisping cries Of souls of babes upon the threshold plaining; Whom, ere they took their portion of sweet life, Dark Fate from nursing bosoms tore, and plunged In bitterness of death. Nor far from these, The throng of dead by unjust judgment slain. Not without judge or law these realms abide: Wise Minos there the urn of justice moves, And holds assembly of the silent shades, Hearing the stories of their lives and deeds. Close on this place those doleful ghosts abide, Who, not for crime, but loathing life and light
With their own hands took death, and cast away The vital essence. Willingly, alas! They now would suffer need, or burdens bear, If only life were given! But Fate forbids. Around them winds the sad, unlovely wave Of Styx: nine times it coils and interflows. Not far from hence, on every side outspread, The Fields of Sorrow lie,—such name they bear; Here all whom ruthless love did waste away Wander in paths unseen, or in the gloom Of dark myrtle grove: not even in death Have they forgot their griefs of long ago.
Here impious Phaedra and poor Procris bide; Lorn Eriphyle bares the vengeful wounds Her own son's dagger made; Evadne here, And foul Pasiphae Pasiphaë are seen; hard by, Laodamia, nobly fond and fair; And Caeneus, not a boy, but maiden now, By Fate remoulded to her native seeming. Here Tyrian Dido, too, her wound unhealed, Roamed through a mighty wood. The Trojan's eyes Beheld her near him through the murky gloom, As when, in her young month and crescent pale, One sees th' o'er-clouded moon, or thinks he sees.
Down dropped his tears, and thus he fondly spoke: “0 suffering Dido! Were those tidings true That thou didst fling thee on the fatal steel? Thy death, ah me! I dealt it. But I swear By stars above us, by the powers in Heaven, Or whatsoever oath ye dead believe, That not by choice I fled thy shores, 0 Queen! Divine decrees compelled me, even as now Among these ghosts I pass, and thread my way Along this gulf of night and loathsome land. How could I deem my cruel taking leave Would bring thee at the last to all this woe?
0, stay! Why shun me? Wherefore haste away? Our last farewell! Our doom! I speak it now!” Thus, though she glared with fierce, relentless gaze, Aaeneas, with fond words and tearful plea, Would soothe her angry soul. But on the ground She fixed averted eyes. For all he spoke Moved her no more than if her frowning brow Were changeless flint or carved in Parian stone. Then, after pause, away in wrath she fled, And refuge took within the cool, dark grove, Where her first spouse, Sichaeus, with her tears Mingled his own in mutual love and true.
Aeneas, none the less, her guiltless woe With anguish knew, watched with dimmed eyes her way, And pitied from afar the fallen Queen. But now his destined way he must be gone; Now the last regions round the travellers lie, Where famous warriors in the darkness dwell: Here Tydeus comes in view, with far-renowned Parthenopaeus and Adrastus pale; Here mourned in upper air with many a moan, In battle fallen, the Dardanidae, Whose long defile Aeneas groans to see: Glaucus and Medon and Thersilochus,
Antenor's children three, and Ceres' priest, That Polypoetes, and Idaeus still. Keeping the kingly chariot and spear. Around him left and right the crowding shades Not only once would see, but clutch and cling Obstructive, asking on what quest he goes. Soon as the princes of Argolic blood, With line on line of Agamemnon's men, Beheld the hero and his glittering arms Flash through the dark, they trembled with amaze, Or turned in flight, as if once more they fled To shelter of the ships; some raised aloft
A feeble shout, or vainly opened wide Their gaping lips in mockery of sound. Here Priam's son, with body rent and torn, Deiphobus Deïphobus is seen,—his mangled face, His face and bloody hands, his wounded head Of ears and nostrils infamously shorn. Scarce could Aeneas know the shuddering shade That strove to hide its face and shameful scar; But, speaking first, he said, in their own tongue: “Deiphobus, strong warrior, nobly born Of Teucer's royal stem, what ruthless foe Could wish to wreak on thee this dire revenge?
Who ventured, unopposed, so vast a wrong? The rumor reached me how, that deadly night, Wearied with slaying Greeks, thyself didst fall Prone on a mingled heap of friends and foes. Then my own hands did for thy honor build An empty tomb upon the Trojan shore, And thrice with echoing voice I called thy shade. Thy name and arms are there. But, 0 my friend, Thee could I nowhere find, but launched away, Nor o'er thy bones their native earth could fling.” To him the son of Priam thus replied: “Nay, friend, no hallowed rite was left undone,
But every debt to death and pity due The shades of thy Deiphobus received. My fate it was, and Helen's murderous wrong, Wrought me this woe; of her these tokens tell. For how that last night in false hope we passed, Thou knowest,—ah, too well we both recall! When up the steep of Troy the fateful horse Came climbing, pregnant with fierce men-at-arms, 't was she, accurst, who led the Phrygian dames In choric dance and false bacchantic song, And, waving from the midst a lofty brand, Signalled the Greeks from Ilium's central tower
In that same hour on my sad couch I lay, Exhausted by long care and sunk in sleep, That sweet, deep sleep, so close to tranquil death. But my illustrious bride from all the house Had stolen all arms; from 'neath my pillowed head She stealthily bore off my trusty sword; Then loud on Menelaus did she call, And with her own false hand unbarred the door; Such gift to her fond lord she fain would send To blot the memory of his ancient wrong! Why tell the tale, how on my couch they broke, While their accomplice, vile Aeolides,
Counselled to many a crime. 0 heavenly Powers! Reward these Greeks their deeds of wickedness, If with clean lips upon your wrath I call! But, friend, what fortunes have thy life befallen? Tell point by point. Did waves of wandering seas Drive thee this way, or some divine command? What chastisement of fortune thrusts thee on Toward this forlorn abode of night and cloud?” While thus they talked, the crimsoned car of Morn Had wheeled beyond the midmost point of heaven, On her ethereal road. The princely pair Had wasted thus the whole brief gift of hours;
But Sibyl spoke the warning: “Night speeds by, And we, Aeneas, lose it in lamenting. Here comes the place where cleaves our way in twain. Thy road, the right, toward Pluto's dwelling goes, And leads us to Elysium. But the left Speeds sinful souls to doom, and is their path To Tartarus th' accurst.” Deiphobus Deïphobus Cried out: “0 priestess, be not wroth with us! Back to the ranks with yonder ghosts I go. 0 glory of my race, pass on! Thy lot Be happier than mine!” He spoke, and fled. Aeneas straightway by the leftward cliff
Beheld a spreading rampart, high begirt With triple wall, and circling round it ran A raging river of swift floods of flame, Infernal Phlegethon, which whirls along Loud-thundering rocks. A mighty gate is there Columned in adamant; no human power, Nor even the gods, against this gate prevail. Tall tower of steel it has; and seated there Tisiphone, in blood-flecked pall arrayed, Sleepless forever, guards the entering way. Hence groans are heard, fierce cracks of lash and scourge, Loud-clanking iron links and trailing chains.
Aeneas motionless with horror stood o'erwhelmed at such uproar. “0 virgin, say What shapes of guilt are these? What penal woe Harries them thus? What wailing smites the air?” To whom the Sibyl, “Far-famed prince of Troy, The feet of innocence may never pass Into this house of sin. But Hecate, When o'er th' Avernian groves she gave me power, Taught me what penalties the gods decree, And showed me all. There Cretan Rhadamanth His kingdom keeps, and from unpitying throne Chastises and lays bare the secret sins
Of mortals who, exulting in vain guile, Elude till death, their expiation due. There, armed forever with her vengeful scourge, Tisiphone, with menace and affront, The guilty swarm pursues; in her left hand She lifts her angered serpents, while she calls A troop of sister-furies fierce as she. Then, grating loud on hinge of sickening sound, Hell's portals open wide. 0, dost thou see What sentinel upon that threshold sits, What shapes of fear keep guard upon that gloom? Far, far within the dragon Hydra broods
With half a hundred mouths, gaping and black; And Tartarus slopes downward to the dark Twice the whole space that in the realms of light Th' Olympian heaven above our earth aspires. — Here Earth's first offspring, the Titanic brood, Roll lightning-blasted in the gulf profound; The twin Aloidae Aloïdae , colossal shades, Came on my view; their hands made stroke at Heaven And strove to thrust Jove from his seat on high. I saw Salmoneus his dread stripes endure, Who dared to counterfeit Olympian thunder And Jove's own fire. In chariot of four steeds,
Brandishing torches, he triumphant rode Through throngs of Greeks, o'er Elis' sacred way, Demanding worship as a god. 0 fool! To mock the storm's inimitable flash— With crash of hoofs and roll of brazen wheel! But mightiest Jove from rampart of thick cloud Hurled his own shaft, no flickering, mortal flame, And in vast whirl of tempest laid him low. Next unto these, on Tityos I looked, Child of old Earth, whose womb all creatures bears: Stretched o'er nine roods he lies; a vulture huge Tears with hooked beak at his immortal side,
Or deep in entrails ever rife with pain Gropes for a feast, making his haunt and home In the great Titan bosom; nor will give To ever new-born flesh surcease of woe. Why name Ixion and Pirithous, The Lapithae, above whose impious brows A crag of flint hangs quaking to its fall, As if just toppling down, while couches proud, Propped upon golden pillars, bid them feast In royal glory: but beside them lies The eldest of the Furies, whose dread hands Thrust from the feast away, and wave aloft
A flashing firebrand, with shrieks of woe. Here in a prison-house awaiting doom Are men who hated, long as life endured, Their brothers, or maltreated their gray sires, Or tricked a humble friend; the men who grasped At hoarded riches, with their kith and kin Not sharing ever—an unnumbered throng; Here slain adulterers be; and men who dared To fight in unjust cause, and break all faith With their own lawful lords. Seek not to know What forms of woe they feel, what fateful shape Of retribution hath o'erwhelmed them there.
Some roll huge boulders up; some hang on wheels, Lashed to the whirling spokes; in his sad seat Theseus is sitting, nevermore to rise; Unhappy Phlegyas uplifts his voice In warning through the darkness, calling loud, ‘0, ere too late, learn justice and fear God!’ Yon traitor sold his country, and for gold Enchained her to a tyrant, trafficking In laws, for bribes enacted or made void; Another did incestuously take His daughter for a wife in lawless bonds. All ventured some unclean, prodigious crime;
And what they dared, achieved. I could not tell, Not with a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, Or iron voice, their divers shapes of sin, Nor call by name the myriad pangs they bear.” So spake Apollo's aged prophetess. “Now up and on!” she cried. “Thy task fulfil! We must make speed. Behold yon arching doors Yon walls in furnace of the Cyclops forged! 'T is there we are commanded to lay down Th' appointed offering.” So, side by side, Swift through the intervening dark they strode, And, drawing near the portal-arch, made pause.
Aeneas, taking station at the door, Pure, lustral waters o'er his body threw, And hung for garland there the Golden Bough. Now, every rite fulfilled, and tribute due Paid to the sovereign power of Proserpine, At last within a land delectable Their journey lay, through pleasurable bowers Of groves where all is joy,—a blest abode! An ampler sky its roseate light bestows On that bright land, which sees the cloudless beam Of suns and planets to our earth unknown. On smooth green lawns, contending limb with limb,
Immortal athletes play, and wrestle long 'gainst mate or rival on the tawny sand; With sounding footsteps and ecstatic song, Some thread the dance divine: among them moves The bard of Thrace, in flowing vesture clad, Discoursing seven-noted melody, Who sweeps the numbered strings with changeful hand, Or smites with ivory point his golden lyre. Here Trojans be of eldest, noblest race, Great-hearted heroes, born in happier times, Ilus, Assaracus, and Dardanus, Illustrious builders of the Trojan town.
Their arms and shadowy chariots he views, And lances fixed in earth, while through the fields Their steeds without a bridle graze at will. For if in life their darling passion ran To chariots, arms, or glossy-coated steeds, The self-same joy, though in their graves, they feel. Lo! on the left and right at feast reclined Are other blessed souls, whose chorus sings Victorious paeans on the fragrant air Of laurel groves; and hence to earth outpours Eridanus, through forests rolling free. Here dwell the brave who for their native land
Fell wounded on the field; here holy priests Who kept them undefiled their mortal day; And poets, of whom the true-inspired song Deserved Apollo's name; and all who found New arts, to make man's life more blest or fair; Yea! here dwell all those dead whose deeds bequeath Deserved and grateful memory to their kind. And each bright brow a snow-white fillet wears. Unto this host the Sibyl turned, and hailed Musaeus, midmost of a numerous throng, Who towered o'er his peers a shoulder higher: “0 spirits blest! 0 venerable bard!
Declare what dwelling or what region holds Anchises, for whose sake we twain essayed Yon passage over the wide streams of hell.” And briefly thus the hero made reply: “No fixed abode is ours. In shadowy groves We make our home, or meadows fresh and fair, With streams whose flowery banks our couches be. But you, if thitherward your wishes turn, Climb yonder hill, where I your path may show.” So saying, he strode forth and led them on, Till from that vantage they had prospect fair Of a wide, shining land; thence wending down,
They left the height they trod;for far below Father Anchises in a pleasant vale Stood pondering, while his eyes and thought surveyed A host of prisoned spirits, who there abode Awaiting entrance to terrestrial air. And musing he reviewed the legions bright Of his own progeny and offspring proud— Their fates and fortunes, virtues and great deeds. Soon he discerned Aeneas drawing nigh o'er the green slope, and, lifting both his hands In eager welcome, spread them swiftly forth. Tears from his eyelids rained, and thus he spoke:
“Art here at last? Hath thy well-proven love Of me thy sire achieved yon arduous way? Will Heaven, beloved son, once more allow That eye to eye we look? and shall I hear Thy kindred accent mingling with my own? I cherished long this hope. My prophet-soul Numbered the lapse of days, nor did my thought Deceive. 0, o'er what lands and seas wast driven To this embrace! What perils manifold Assailed thee, 0 my son, on every side! How long I trembled, lest that Libyan throne Should work thee woe!”
Aeneas thus replied: “Thine image, sire, thy melancholy shade, Came oft upon my vision, and impelled My journey hitherward. Our fleet of ships Lies safe at anchor in the Tuscan seas. Come, clasp my hand! Come, father, I implore, And heart to heart this fond embrace receive!” So speaking, all his eyes suffused with tears; Thrice would his arms in vain that shape enfold. Thrice from the touch of hand the vision fled, Like wafted winds or likest hovering dreams. After these things Aeneas was aware
Of solemn groves in one deep, distant vale, Where trees were whispering, and forever flowed The river Lethe, through its land of calm. Nations unnumbered roved and haunted there: As when, upon a windless summer morn, The bees afield among the rainbow flowers Alight and sip, or round the lilies pure Pour forth in busy swarm, while far diffused Their murmured songs from all the meadows rise. Aeneas in amaze the wonder views, And fearfully inquires of whence and why; What yonder rivers be; what people press,
Line after line, on those dim shores along. Said Sire Anchises: “Yonder thronging souls To reincarnate shape predestined move. Here, at the river Lethe's wave, they quaff Care-quelling floods, and long oblivion. Of these I shall discourse, and to thy soul Make visible the number and array Of my posterity; so shall thy heart In Italy, thy new-found home, rejoice.” “0 father,” said Aeneas, “must I deem That from this region souls exalted rise To upper air, and shall once more return
To cumbering flesh? 0, wherefore do they feel, Unhappy ones, such fatal lust to live?” “I speak, my son, nor make thee longer doubt,” Anchises said, and thus the truth set forth, In ordered words from point to point unfolding: “Know first that heaven and earth and ocean's plain, The moon's bright orb, and stars of Titan birth Are nourished by one Life; one primal Mind, Immingled with the vast and general frame, Fills every part and stirs the mighty whole. Thence man and beast, thence creatures of the air, And all the swarming monsters that be found
Beneath the level of the marbled sea; A fiery virtue, a celestial power, Their native seeds retain; but bodies vile, With limbs of clay and members born to die, Encumber and o'ercloud; whence also spring Terrors and passions, suffering and joy; For from deep darkness and captivity All gaze but blindly on the radiant world. Nor when to life's last beam they bid farewell May sufferers cease from pain, nor quite be freed From all their fleshly plagues; but by fixed law, The strange, inveterate taint works deeply in.
For this, the chastisement of evils past Is suffered here, and full requital paid. Some hang on high, outstretched to viewless winds; For some their sin's contagion must be purged In vast ablution of deep-rolling seas, Or burned away in fire. Each man receives His ghostly portion in the world of dark; But thence to realms Elysian we go free, Where for a few these seats of bliss abide, Till time's long lapse a perfect orb fulfils, And takes all taint away, restoring so The pure, ethereal soul's first virgin fire.
At last, when the millennial aeon strikes, God calls them forth to yon Lethaean stream, In numerous host, that thence, oblivious all, They may behold once more the vaulted sky, And willingly to shapes of flesh return.” So spoke Anchises; then led forth his son, The Sibyl with him, to the assembled shades (A voiceful throng), and on a lofty mound His station took, whence plainly could be seen The long procession, and each face descried. “Hark now! for of the glories I will tell That wait our Dardan blood; of our sons' sons
Begot upon the old Italian breed, Who shall be mighty spirits, and prolong Our names, their heritage. I will unfold The story, and reveal the destined years. Yon princeling, thou beholdest leaning there Upon a royal lance, shall next emerge Into the realms of day. He is the first Of half-Italian strain, the last-born heir To thine old age by fair Lavinia given, Called Silvius, a royal Alban name (Of sylvan birth and sylvan nurture he), A king himself and sire of kings to come,
By whom our race in Alba Longa reign. Next Procas stands, our Trojan people's boast; Capys and Numitor, and, named like thee, Aeneas Sylvius, like thee renowned For faithful honor and for deeds of war, When he ascends at last his Alban throne. Behold what warrior youth they be! How strong Their goodly limbs! Above their shaded brows The civic oak they wear! For thee they build Nomentum, and the walls of Gabii, Fidena too, and on the mountains pile Collatia's citadels, Pometii,
Bola and Cora, Castrum-Inui— Such be the names the nameless lands shall bear. See, in that line of sires the son of Mars, Great Romulus, of Ilian mother born, From far-descended line of Trojan kings! See from his helm the double crest uprear, While his celestial father in his mien Shows forth his birth divine! Of him, my son, Great Rome shall rise, and, favored of his star, Have power world-wide, and men of godlike mind. She clasps her seven hills in single wall, Proud mother of the brave! So Cybele,
The Berecynthian goddess, castle-crowned, On through the Phrygian kingdoms speeds her car, Exulting in her hundred sons divine, All numbered with the gods, all throned on high. “Let now thy visionary glance look long On this thy race, these Romans that be thine. Here Caesar, of Iulus' glorious seed, Behold ascending to the world of light! Behold, at last, that man, for this is he, So oft unto thy listening ears foretold, Augustus Caesar, kindred unto Jove. He brings a golden age; he shall restore
Old Saturn's sceptre to our Latin land, And o'er remotest Garamant and Ind His sway extend; the fair dominion outruns th' horizon planets, yea, beyond The sun's bright path, where Atlas' shoulder bears Yon dome of heaven set thick with burning stars. Against his coming the far Caspian shores Break forth in oracles; the Maeotian land Trembles, and all the seven-fold mouths of Nile. Not o'er domain so wide Alcides passed, Although the brazen-footed doe he slew And stilled the groves of Erymanth, and bade
The beast of Lerna at his arrows quail. Nor half so far triumphant Baechus drove, With vine-entwisted reins, his frolic team Of tigers from the tall-topped Indian hill. “Still do we doubt if heroes' deeds can fill A realm so wide? Shall craven fear constrain Thee or thy people from Ausonia's shore? Look, who is he I may discern from far By olive-branch and holy emblems known? His flowing locks and hoary beard, behold! Fit for a Roman king! By hallowed laws He shall found Rome anew—from mean estate
In lowly Cures led to mightier sway. But after him arises one whose reign Shall wake the land from slumber: Tullus then Shall stir slack chiefs to battle, rallying His hosts which had forgot what triumphs be. Him boastful Ancus follows hard upon, o'erflushed with his light people's windy praise. Wilt thou see Tarquins now? And haughty hand Of vengeful Brutus seize the signs of power? He first the consul's name shall take; he first Th' inexorable fasces sternly bear. When his own sons in rash rebellion join,
The father and the judge shall sentence give In beauteous freedom's cause—unhappy he! Howe'er the age to come the story tell, 't will bless such love of honor and of Rome. See Decius, sire and son, the Drusi, see! Behold Torquatus with his axe! Look where Camillus brings the Gallic standards home! “But who are these in glorious armor clad And equal power? In this dark world of cloud Their souls in concord move;—but woe is me! What duel 'twixt them breaks, when by and by The light of life is theirs, and forth they call
Their long-embattled lines to carnage dire! Allied by nuptial truce, the sire descends From Alpine rampart and that castled cliff, Monoecus by the sea; the son arrays His hostile legions in the lands of morn. Forbear, my children! School not your great souls In such vast wars, nor turn your giant strength Against the bowels of your native land! But be thou first, 0 first in mercy! thou Who art of birth Olympian! Fling away Thy glorious sword, mine offspring and mine heir! “Yonder is one whose chariot shall ascend
The laurelled Capitolian steep; he rides In glory o'er Achaea's hosts laid low, And Corinth overthrown. There, too, is he Who shall uproot proud Argos and the towers Of Agamemnon; vanquishing the heir Even of Aeacus, the warrior seed Of Peleus' son; such vengeance shall be wrought For Troy's slain sires, and violated shrines! “Or who could fail great Cato's name to tell? Or, Cossus, thine? or in oblivion leave The sons of Gracchus? or the Scipios, Twin thunderbolts of war, and Libya's bane?
Or, more than kingly in his mean abode, Fabricius? or Serranus at the plough? Ye Fabii, how far would ye prolong My weary praise? But see! 'T is Maximus, Who by wise waiting saves his native land. “Let others melt and mould the breathing bronze To forms more fair,—aye! out of marble bring Features that live; let them plead causes well; Or trace with pointed wand the cycled heaven, And hail the constellations as they rise; But thou, 0 Roman, learn with sovereign sway To rule the nations. Thy great art shall be
To keep the world in lasting peace, to spare humbled foe, and crush to earth the proud.” So did Anchises speak, then, after pause, Thus to their wondering ears his word prolonged: “Behold Marcellus, bright with glorious spoil, In lifted triumph through his warriors move! The Roman power in tumultuous days He shall establish; he rides forth to quell Afric and rebel Gaul; and to the shrine Of Romulus the third-won trophy brings.” Then spoke Aeneas, for he now could see A beauteous youth in glittering dress of war,
Though of sad forehead and down-dropping eyes: “Say, father, who attends the prince? a son? Or of his greatness some remoter heir? How his friends praise him, and how matchless he! But mournful night Tests darkly o'er his brow.” With brimming eyes Anchises answer gave: “Ask not, 0 son, what heavy weight of woe Thy race shall bear, when fate shall just reveal This vision to the world, then yield no more. 0 gods above, too glorious did ye deem The seed of Rome, had this one gift been sure? The lamentation of a multitude
Arises from the field of Mars, and strikes The city's heart. 0 Father Tiber, see What pomp of sorrow near the new-made tomb Beside thy fleeting stream! What Ilian youth Shall e'er his Latin kindred so advance In hope of glory? When shall the proud land Of Romulus of such a nursling boast? Ah, woe' is me! 0 loyal heart and true! 0 brave, right arm invincible! What foe Had 'scaped his onset in the shock of arms, Whether on foot he strode, or if he spurred The hot flanks of his war-horse flecked with foam?
0 lost, lamented child! If thou evade Thy evil star, Marcellus thou shalt be. 0 bring me lilies! Bring with liberal hand! Sad purple blossoms let me throw—the shade Of my own kin to honor, heaping high My gifts upon his grave! So let me pay An unavailing vow!” Then, far and wide Through spacious fields of air, they wander free, Witnessing all; Anchises guides his son From point to point, and quickens in his mind Hunger for future fame. Of wars he tells
Soon imminent; of fair Laurentum's tribes; Of King Latinus' town; and shows what way Each task and hardship to prevent, or bear. Now Sleep has portals twain, whereof the one Is horn, they say, and easy exit gives To visions true; the other, gleaming white With polished ivory, the.dead employ To people night with unsubstantial dreams. Here now Anchises bids his son farewell; And with Sibylla, his companion sage, Up through that ivory portal lets him rise. Back to his fleet and his dear comrades all
Aeneas hastes.Then hold they their straight course Into Caieta's bay. An anchor holds Each lofty prow; the sterns stand firm on shore.
Book 7
One more immortal name thy death bequeathed, Nurse of Aeneas, to Italian shores, Caieta; there thy honor hath a home; Thy bones a name: and on Hesperia's breast Their proper glory.When Aeneas now The tribute of sepulchral vows had paid Beside the funeral mound, and o'er the seas Stillness had fallen, he flung forth his sails, And leaving port pursued his destined way. Freshly the night-winds breathe; the cloudless moon Outpours upon his path unstinted beam, And with far-trembling glory smites the sea.
Close to the lands of Circe soon they fare, Where the Sun's golden daughter in far groves Sounds forth her ceaseless song; her lofty hall Is fragrant every night with flaring brands Of cedar, giving light the while she weaves With shrill-voiced shuttle at her linens fine. From hence are heard the loud lament and wrath Of lions, rebels to their linked chains And roaring all night long; great bristly boars And herded bears, in pinfold closely kept, Rage horribly, and monster-wolves make moan; Whom the dread goddess with foul juices strong
From forms of men drove forth, and bade to wear the mouths and maws of beasts in Circe's thrall. But lest the sacred Trojans should endure such prodigy of doom, or anchor there on that destroying shore, kind Neptune filled their sails with winds of power, and sped them on in safety past the perils of that sea. Now morning flushed the wave, and saffron-garbed Aurora from her rose-red chariot beamed in highest heaven; the sea-winds ceased to stir; a sudden calm possessed the air, and tides of marble smoothness met the laboring oar.
Then, gazing from the deep, Aeneas saw a stretch of groves, whence Tiber's smiling stream, its tumbling current rich with yellow sands, burst seaward forth: around it and above shore-haunting birds of varied voice and plume flattered the sky with song, and, circling far o'er river-bed and grove, took joyful wing. Thither to landward now his ships he steered, and sailed, high-hearted, up the shadowy stream. Hail, Erato! while olden kings and thrones and all their sequent story I unfold! How Latium's honor stood, when alien ships
brought war to Italy, and from what cause the primal conflict sprang, O goddess, breathe upon thy bard in song. Dread wars I tell, array of battle, and high-hearted kings thrust forth to perish, when Etruria's host and all Hesperia gathered to the fray. Events of grander march impel my song, and loftier task I try. Latinus, then an aged king, held long-accepted sway o'er tranquil vales and towns. He was the son of Faunus, so the legend tells, who wed the nymph Marica of Laurentian stem.
Picus was Faunus' father, whence the line to Saturn's Ioins ascends. O heavenly sire, from thee the stem began! But Fate had given to King Latinus' body no heirs male: for taken in the dawning of his day his only son had been; and now his home and spacious palace one sole daughter kept, who was grown ripe to wed and of full age to take a husband. Many suitors tried from all Ausonia and Latium's bounds; but comeliest in all their princely throng came Turnus, of a line of mighty sires.
Him the queen mother chiefly loved, and yearned to call him soon her son. But omens dire and menaces from Heaven withstood her will. A laurel-tree grew in the royal close, of sacred leaf and venerated age, which, when he builded there his wall and tower, Father Latinus found, and hallowed it to Phoebus' grace and power, wherefrom the name Laurentian, which his realm and people bear. Unto this tree-top, wonderful to tell, came hosts of bees, with audible acclaim voyaging the stream of air, and seized a place
on the proud, pointing crest, where the swift swarm, with interlacement of close-clinging feet, swung from the leafy bough. “Behold, there comes,” the prophet cried, “a husband from afar! To the same region by the self-same path behold an arm'd host taking lordly sway upon our city's crown!” Soon after this, when, coming to the shrine with torches pure, Lavinia kindled at her father's side the sacrifice, swift seemed the flame to burn along her flowing hair—O sight of woe! Over her broidered snood it sparkling flew,
lighting her queenly tresses and her crown of jewels rare: then, wrapt in flaming cloud, from hall to hall the fire-god's gift she flung. This omen dread and wonder terrible was rumored far: for prophet-voices told bright honors on the virgin's head to fall by Fate's decree, but on her people, war. The King, sore troubled by these portents, sought oracular wisdom of his sacred sire, Faunus, the fate-revealer, where the groves stretch under high Albunea, and her stream roars from its haunted well, exhaling through
vast, gloomful woods its pestilential air. Here all Oenotria's tribes ask oracles in dark and doubtful days: here, when the priest has brought his gifts, and in the night so still, couched on spread fleeces of the offered flock, awaiting slumber lies, then wondrously a host of flitting shapes he sees, and hears voices that come and go: with gods he holds high converse, or in deep Avernian gloom parleys with Acheron. Thither drew near Father Latinus, seeking truth divine. Obedient to the olden rite, he slew
a hundred fleecy sheep, and pillowed lay upon their outstretched skins. Straightway a voice out of the lofty forest met his prayer. “Seek not in wedlock with a Latin lord to join thy daughter, O my son and seed! Beware this purposed marriage! There shall come sons from afar, whose blood shall bear our name starward; the children of their mighty loins, as far as eve and morn enfold the seas, shall see a subject world beneath their feet submissive lie.” This admonition given Latinus hid not. But on restless wing
rumor had spread it, when the men of Troy along the river-bank of mounded green their fleet made fast.Aeneas and his chiefs, with fair Iulus, under spreading boughs of one great tree made resting-place, and set the banquet on. Thin loaves of altar-bread along the sward to bear their meats were laid (such was the will of Jove), and wilding fruits rose heaping high, with Ceres' gift below. Soon, all things else devoured, their hunger turned to taste the scanty bread, which they attacked with tooth and nail audacious, and consumed
both round and square of that predestined leaven. “Look, how we eat our tables even!” cried Iulus, in a jest. Such was the word which bade their burdens fall. From his boy's lip the father caught this utterance of Fate, silent with wonder at the ways of Heaven; then swift he spoke: “Hail! O my destined shore, protecting deities of Ilium, hail! Here is our home, our country here! This day I publish the mysterious prophecy by Sire Anchises given: ‘My son,’ said he, ‘When hunger in strange lands shall bid devour
the tables of thy banquet gone, then hope for home, though weary, and take thought to build a dwelling and a battlement.’ Behold! This was our fated hunger! This last proof will end our evil days. Up, then! For now by morning's joyful beam we will explore what men, what cities, in this region be, and, leaving ship, our several errands ply. Your gift to Jove outpour! Make thankful prayer unto Anchises' shade! To this our feast bring back the flowing wine!” Thereat he bound his forehead with green garland, calling loud
upon the Genius of that place, and Earth, eldest of names divine; the Nymphs he called, and river-gods unknown; his voice invoked the night, the omen-stars through night that roll. Jove, Ida's child, and Phrygia's fertile Queen: he called his mother from Olympian skies, and sire from Erebus. Lo, o'er his head three times unclouded Jove omnipotent in thunder spoke, and, with effulgent ray from his ethereal tract outreaching far, shook visibly the golden-gleaming air. Swift, through the concourse of the Trojans, spread
news of the day at hand when they should build their destined walls. So, with rejoicing heart at such vast omen, they set forth a feast with zealous emulation, ranging well the wine-cups fair with many a garland crowned. Soon as the morrow with the lamp of dawn looked o'er the world, they took their separate ways, exploring shore and towns; here spread the pools and fountain of Numicius; here they see the river Tiber, where bold Latins dwell. Anchises' son chose out from his brave band a hundred envoys, bidding them depart
to the King's sacred city, each enwreathed with Pallas' silver leaf; and gifts they bear to plead for peace and friendship at his throne. While on this errand their swift steps are sped, Aeneas, by a shallow moat and small, his future city shows, breaks ground, and girds with mound and breastwork like a camp of war the Trojans' first abode. Soon, making way to where the Latin citadel uprose, the envoys scanned the battlements, and paused beneath its wall. Outside the city gates fair youths and striplings in life's early bloom
course with swift steeds, or steer through dusty cloud the whirling chariot, or stretch stout bows, or hurl the seasoned javelin, or strive in boxing-bout and foot-race: one of these made haste on horseback to the aged King, with tidings of a stranger company in foreign garb approaching. The good King bade call them to his house, and took his seat in mid-court on his high, ancestral throne. Large and majestical the castle rose: a hundred columns lifted it in air upon the city's crown—the royal keep
of Picus of Laurentum; round it lay deep, gloomy woods by olden worship blest. Here kings took sceptre and the fasces proud with omens fair; the selfsame sacred place was senate-house and temple; here was found a hall for hallowed feasting, where a ram was offered up, and at long banquet-boards the nation's fathers sat in due array. Here ranged ancestral statues roughly hewn of ancient cedar-wood: King Italus; Father Sabinus, planter of the vine, a curving sickle in his sculptured hand;
gray-bearded Saturn; and the double brow of Janus' head; and other sires and kings were wardens of the door, with many a chief wounded in battle for his native land. Trophies of arms in goodly order hung along the columns: chariots of war from foeman taken, axes of round blade, plumed helmets, bolts and barriers of steel from city-gates, shields, spears, and beaks of bronze from captured galleys by the conqueror torn. Here, wielding his Quirinal augur-staff, girt in scant shift, and bearing on his left
the sacred oval shield, appeared enthroned Picus, breaker of horses, whom his bride, enamoured Circe, smote with golden wand, and, raining o'er him potent poison-dew, changed to a bird of pied and dappled wings. In such a temple of his gods did Sire Latinus, on hereditary throne, welcome the Trojans to his halls, and thus with brow serene gave greeting as they came: “O sons of Dardanus, think not unknown your lineage and city! Rumored far your venturous voyage has been. What seek ye here?
What cause, what quest, has brought your barks and you o'er the blue waters to Ausonia's hills? What way uncharted, or wild stress of storm, or what that sailors suffer in mid-sea, unto this river bank and haven bore? Doubt not our welcome! We of Latin land are Saturn's sons, whose equitable minds, not chained by statute or compulsion, keep in freedom what the god's good custom gave. Now I bethink me our Ausonian seers have dark, dim lore that 't was this land gave birth to Dardanus, who after took his way
through Phrygian Ida's towns and Samothrace. Once out of Tuscan Corythus he fared; but now in golden house among the stars he has a throne, and by his altars blest adds to the number of the gods we praise.” He spoke; Ilioneus this answer made: “O King, great heir of Faunus! No dark storm impelled us o'er the flood thy realm to find. Nor star deceived, nor strange, bewildering shore threw out of our true course; but we are come by our free choice and with deliberate aim to this thy town, though exiled forth of realms
once mightiest of all the sun-god sees when moving from his utmost eastern bound. From Jove our line began; the sons of Troy boast Jove to be their sire, and our true King is of Olympian seed. To thine abode Trojan Aeneas sent us. How there burst o'er Ida's vales from dread Mycenae's kings a tempest vast, and by what stroke of doom all Asia's world with Europe clashed in war, that lone wight hears whom earth's remotest isle has banished to the Ocean's rim, or he whose dwelling is the ample zone that burns
betwixt the changeful sun-god's milder realms, far severed from the world. We are the men from war's destroying deluge safely borne over the waters wide. We only ask some low-roofed dwelling for our fathers' gods, some friendly shore, and, what to all is free, water and air. We bring no evil name upon thy people; thy renown will be but wider spread; nor of a deed so fair can grateful memory die. Ye ne'er will rue that to Ausonia's breast ye gathered Troy. I swear thee by the favored destinies
of great Aeneas, by his strength of arm in friendship or in war, that many a tribe (O, scorn us not, that, bearing olive green, with suppliant words we come), that many a throne has sued us to be friends. But Fate's decree to this thy realm did guide. Here Dardanus was born; and with reiterate command this way Apollo pointed to the stream of Tiber and Numicius' haunted spring. Lo, these poor tributes from his greatness gone Aeneas sends, these relics snatched away from Ilium burning: with this golden bowl
Anchises poured libation when he prayed; and these were Priam's splendor, when he gave laws to his gathered states; this sceptre his, this diadem revered, and beauteous pall, handwork of Asia's queens.” So ceased to speak Ilioneus. But King Latinus gazed unanswering on the ground, all motionless save for his musing eyes. The broidered pall of purple, and the sceptre Priam bore, moved little on his kingly heart, which now pondered of giving to the bridal bed his daughter dear. He argues in his mind
the oracle of Faunus:—might this be that destined bridegroom from an alien land, to share his throne, to get a progeny of glorious valor, which by mighty deeds should win the world for kingdom? So at last with joyful brow he spoke: “Now let the gods our purpose and their own fair promise bless! Thou hast, O Trojan, thy desire. Thy gifts I have not scorned; nor while Latinus reigns shall ye lack riches in my plenteous land, not less than Trojan store. But where is he, Aeneas' self? If he our royal love
so much desire, and have such urgent mind to be our guest and friend, let him draw near, nor turn him from well-wishing looks away! My offering and pledge of peace shall be to clasp your monarch's hand. Bear back, I pray, this answer to your King: my dwelling holds a daughter, whom with husband of her blood great signs in heaven and from my father's tomb forbid to wed. A son from alien shores they prophesy for Latium's heir, whose seed shall lift our glory to the stars divine. I am persuaded this is none but he,
that man of destiny; and if my heart be no false prophet, I desire it so.” Thus having said, the sire took chosen steeds from his full herd, whereof, well-groomed and fair, three hundred stood within his ample pale. Of these to every Teucrian guest he gave a courser swift and strong, in purple clad and broidered housings gay; on every breast hung chains of gold; in golden robes arrayed, they champed the red gold curb their teeth between. For offering to Aeneas, he bade send a chariot, with chargers twain of seed
ethereal, their nostrils breathing fire: the famous kind which guileful Circe bred, cheating her sire, and mixed the sun-god's team with brood-mares earthly born. The sons of Troy, such gifts and greetings from Latinus bearing, rode back in pomp his words of peace to bring. But lo! from Argos on her voyage of air rides the dread spouse of Jove. She, sky-enthroned above the far Sicilian promontory, pachynus, sees Dardania's rescued fleet, and all Aeneas' joy. The prospect shows houses a-building, lands of safe abode,
and the abandoned ships. With bitter grief she stands at gaze: then with storm-shaken brows, thus from her heart lets loose the wrathful word: “O hated race! O Phrygian destinies — to mine forevermore (unhappy me!) a scandal and offense! Did no one die on Troy's embattled plain? Could captured slaves not be enslaved again? Was Ilium's flame no warrior's funeral pyre? Did they walk safe through serried swords and congregated fires? At last, methought, my godhead might repose, and my full-fed revenge in slumber lie.
But nay! Though flung forth from their native land, I o'er the waves, with enmity unstayed, dared give them chase, and on that exiled few hurled the whole sea. I smote the sons of Troy with ocean's power and heaven's. But what availed Syrtes, or Scylla, or Charybdis' waves? The Trojans are in Tiber; and abide within their prayed-for land delectable, safe from the seas and me! Mars once had power the monstrous Lapithae to slay; and Jove to Dian's honor and revenge gave o'er the land of Calydon. What crime so foul
was wrought by Lapithae or Calydon? But I, Jove's wife and Queen, who in my woes have ventured each bold stroke my power could find, and every shift essayed,—behold me now outdone by this Aeneas! If so weak my own prerogative of godhead be, let me seek strength in war, come whence it will! If Heaven I may not move, on Hell I call. To bar him from his Latin throne exceeds my fated power. So be it! Fate has given Lavinia for his bride. But long delays I still can plot, and to the high event
deferment and obstruction. I can smite the subjects of both kings. Let sire and son buy with their people's blood this marriage-bond! Let Teucrian and Rutulian slaughter be thy virgin dower, and Bellona's blaze light thee the bridal bed! Not only teemed the womb of Hecuba with burning brand, and brought forth nuptial fires; but Venus, too, such offspring bore, a second Paris, who to their new Troy shall fatal wedlock bring.” So saying, with aspect terrible she sped earthward her way; and called from gloom of hell
Alecto, woeful power, from cloudy throne among the Furies, where her heart is fed with horrid wars, wrath, vengeance, treason foul, and fatal feuds. Her father Pluto loathes the creature he engendered, and with hate her hell-born sister-fiends the monster view. A host of shapes she wears, and many a front of frowning black brows viper-garlanded. Juno to her this goading speech addressed: “O daughter of dark Night, arouse for me thy wonted powers and our task begin! Lest now my glory fail, my royal name
be vanquished, while Aeneas and his crew cheat with a wedlock bond the Latin King and seize Italia's fields. Thou canst thrust on two Ioving brothers to draw sword and slay, and ruin homes with hatred, calling in the scourge of Furies and avenging fires. A thousand names thou bearest, and thy ways of ruin multiply a thousand-fold. Arouse thy fertile breast! Go, rend in twain this plighted peace! Breed calumnies and sow causes of battle, till yon warrior hosts cry out for swords and leap to gird them on.”
Straightway Alecto, through whose body flows the Gorgon poison, took her viewless way to Latium and the lofty walls and towers of the Laurentian King. Crouching she sate in silence on the threshold of the bower where Queen Amata in her fevered soul pondered, with all a woman's wrath and fear, upon the Trojans and the marriage-suit of Turnus. From her Stygian hair the fiend a single serpent flung, which stole its way to the Queen's very heart, that, frenzy-driven, she might on her whole house confusion pour.
Betwixt her smooth breast and her robe it wound unfelt, unseen, and in her wrathful mind instilled its viper soul. Like golden chain around her neck it twined, or stretched along the fillets on her brow, or with her hair enwrithing coiled; then on from limb to limb slipped tortuous. Yet though the venom strong thrilled with its first infection every vein, and touched her bones with fire, she knew it not, nor yielded all her soul, but made her plea in gentle accents such as mothers use; and many a tear she shed, about her child,
her darling, destined for a Phrygian's bride: “O father! can we give Lavinia's hand to Trojan fugitives? why wilt thou show no mercy on thy daughter, nor thyself; nor unto me, whom at the first fair wind that wretch will leave deserted, bearing far upon his pirate ship my stolen child? Was it not thus that Phrygian shepherd came to Lacedaemon, ravishing away Helen, the child of Leda, whom he bore to those false Trojan lands? Hast thou forgot thy plighted word? Where now thy boasted love
of kith and kin, and many a troth-plight given unto our kinsman Turnus? If we need an alien son, and Father Faunus' words irrevocably o'er thy spirit brood, I tell thee every land not linked with ours under one sceptre, but distinct and free, is alien; and 't is thus the gods intend. Indeed, if Turnus' ancient race be told, it sprang of Inachus, Acrisius, and out of mid-Mycenae.” But she sees her lord Latinus resolute, her words an effort vain; and through her body spreads
the Fury's deeply venomed viper-sting. Then, woe-begone, by dark dreams goaded on, she wanders aimless, fevered and unstrung along the public ways; as oft one sees beneath the twisted whips a leaping top sped in long spirals through a palace-close by lads at play: obedient to the thong, it weaves wide circles in the gaping view of its small masters, who admiring see the whirling boxwood made a living thing under their lash. So fast and far she roved from town to town among the clansmen wild.
Then to the wood she ran, feigning to feel the madness Bacchus loves; for she essays a fiercer crime, by fiercer frenzy moved. Now in the leafy dark of mountain vales she hides her daughter, ravished thus away from Trojan bridegroom and the wedding-feast. “Hail, Bacchus! Thou alone,” she shrieked and raved, “art worthy such a maid. For thee she bears the thyrsus with soft ivy-clusters crowned, and trips ecstatic in thy beauteous choir. For thee alone my daughter shall unbind the glory of her virgin hair.” Swift runs
the rumor of her deed; and, frenzy-driven, the wives of Latium to the forests fly, enkindled with one rage. They leave behind their desolated hearths, and let rude winds o'er neck and tresses blow; their voices fill the welkin with convulsive shriek and wail; and, with fresh fawn-skins on their bodies bound, they brandish vine-clad spears. The Queen herself lifts high a blazing pine tree, while she sings a wedding-song for Turnus and her child. With bloodshot glance and anger wild, she cries: “Ho! all ye Latin wives, if e'er ye knew
kindness for poor Amata, if ye care for a wronged mother's woes, O, follow me! Cast off the matron fillet from your brows, and revel to our mad, voluptuous song.” Thus, through the woodland haunt of creatures wild, Alecto urges on the raging Queen with Bacchus' cruel goad. But when she deemed the edge of wrath well whetted, and the house of wise Latinus of all reason reft, then soared the black-winged goddess to the walls of the bold Rutule, to the city built (So runs the tale) by beauteous Danae
and her Acrisian people, shipwrecked there by south wind strong. Its name was Ardea in language of our sires, and that proud name of Ardea still it wears, though proud no more. Here Turnus in the gloom of midnight lay half-sleeping in his regal hall. For him Alecto her grim fury-guise put by, and wore an old crone's face, her baleful brow delved deep with wrinkled age, her hoary hair in sacred fillet bound, and garlanded with leaf of olive: Calybe she seemed, an aged servitress ot Juno's shrine,
and in this seeming thus the prince addressed:— “O Turnus, wilt thou tamely see thy toil lavished in vain? and thy true throne consigned to Trojan wanderers? The King repels thy noble wooing and thy war-won dower. He summons him a son of alien stem to take his kingdom. Rouse thee now, and front, scorned and without reward, these perilous days. Tread down that Tuscan host! Protect the peace of Latium from its foe! Such is the word which, while in night and slumber thou wert laid, Saturnia's godhead, visibly revealed,
bade me declare. Up, therefore, and array thy warriors in arms! Swift sallying forth from thy strong city-gates, on to the fray exultant go! Assail the Phrygian chiefs who tent them by thy beauteous river's marge, and burn their painted galleys! 't is the will of gods above that speaks. Yea, even the King Latinus, if he will not heed thy plea, or hear thy wooing, shall be taught too late what Turnus is in panoply of war.” In mocking answer to the prophetess the warrior thus replied: “That stranger fleet
in Tiber moored, not, as thy folly prates, of me unnoted lies. Vex me no more with thy fantastic terror. Juno's power is watchful of my cause. 'T is mere old age, gone to decay and dotage, fills thy breast with vain foreboding, and, while kings contend, scares and deceives thy visionary eye. Guard thou in yonder temple's holy shade the images divine! Of peace and war let men and warriors the burden bear!” So kindled he Alecto's wrath to flame; and even as he spoke a shudder thrilled
the warrior's body, and his eyeballs stood stonily staring at the hydra hair which hissed and writhed above the grisly head of the large-looming fiend. With eyes of fire horribly rolling, she repelled him far, while he but faltered speechless. She upraised two coiling snakes out of her tresses, cracked the lashes of her scourge, and wrathfully, with raving lips replied: “Look well on me, gone to decay and dotage of old age! And mocked with foolish fear while kings contend! Wilt hearken now! Behold me, hither flown
from where my sister-furies dwell! My hands bring bloody death and war.” She spoke, and hurled her firebrand at the hero, thrusting deep beneath his heart her darkly smouldering flame. Then horror broke his sleep, and fearful sweat dripped from his every limb. He shrieked aloud for arms; and seized the ready arms that lay around his couch and hall. Then o'er his soul the lust of battle and wild curse of war broke forth in angry power, as when the flames of faggots round the bubbling cauldron sing, and up the waters leap; the close-kept flood
brims over, streaming, foaming, breaking bound, and flings thick clouds in air. He, summoning his chieftains, bade them on Latinus move, break peace, take arms, and, over Italy their shields extending, to thrust forth her foe: himself for Teucrian with Latin joined was more than match. He called upon the gods in witness of his vows: while, nothing loth, Rutulia's warriors rushed into array; some by his youth and noble beauty moved, some by his kingly sires and fame in arms. While Turnus stirred Rutulia's valiant souls,
Alecto on her Stygian pinions sped to where the Teucrians lay. She scanned the ground with eager guile, where by the river's marge fair-browed Iulus with his nets and snares rode fiercely to the chase. Then o'er his hounds that hell-born virgin breathed a sudden rage, and filled each cunning nostril with the scent of stags, till forth in wild pursuit they flew. Here all the woe began, and here awoke in rustic souls the swift-enkindling war. For a fair stag, tall-antlered, stolen away even from its mother's milk, had long been kept
by Tyrrhus and his sons—the shepherd he of all the royal flocks, and forester of a wide region round. With fondest care their sister Silvia entwined its horns with soft, fresh garlands, tamed it to run close, and combed the creature, or would bring to bathe at a clear, crystal spring. It knew the hands of all its gentle masters, and would feed from their own dish; or wandering through the wood, come back unguided to their friendly door, though deep the evening shade. Iulus' dogs now roused this wanderer in their ravening chase,
as, drifted down-stream far from home it lay, on a green bank a-cooling. From bent bow Ascanius, eager for a hunter's praise, let go his shaft; nor did Alecto fail his aim to guide: but, whistling through the air, the light-winged reed pierced deep in flank and side. Swift to its cover fled the wounded thing, and crept loud-moaning to its wonted stall, where, like a blood-stained suppliant, it seemed to fill that shepherd's house with plaintive prayer. Then Silvia the sister, smiting oft on breast and arm, made cry for help, and called
the sturdy rustics forth in gathering throng. These now (for in the silent forest couched the cruel Fury) swift to battle flew. One brandished a charred stake, another swung a knotted cudgel, as rude anger shapes its weapon of whate'er the searching eye first haps to fall on. Tyrrhus roused his clans, just when by chance he split with blows of wedge an oak in four; and, panting giant breath, shouldered his woodman's axe. Alecto then, prompt to the stroke of mischief, soared aloft from where she spying sate, to the steep roof
of a tall byre, and from its peak of straw blew a wild signal on a shepherd's horn, outflinging her infernal note so far that all the forest shuddered, and the grove throbbed to its deepest glen. Cold Trivia's lake from end to end gave ear, and every wave of the white stream of Nar, the lonely pools of still Velinus heard: while at the sound pale mothers to their breasts their children drew. Swift to the signal of the dreadful horn, snatching their weapons rude, the freeborn swains assembled for the fray; the Trojan bands
poured from their bivouac with instant aid for young Ascanius. In array of war both stand confronting. Not mere rustic brawl with charred oak-staff and cudgel is the fight, but with the two-edged steel; the naked swords wave like dark-bladed harvest-field, while far the brazen arms flash in the smiting sun, and skyward fling their beam: so some wide sea, at first but whitened in the rising wind, swells its slow-rolling mass and ever higher its billows rears, until the utmost deep lifts in one surge to heaven. The first to fall
was Almo, eldest-born of Tyrrhus' sons, whom, striding in the van, a loud-winged shaft laid low in death; deep in his throat it clung, and silenced with his blood the dying cry of his frail life. Around him fell the forms of many a brave and strong; among them died gray-haired Galaesus pleading for a truce: righteous he was, and of Ausonian fields a prosperous master; five full flocks had he of bleating sheep, and from his pastures came five herds of cattle home; his busy churls turned with a hundred ploughs his fruitful glebe.
While o'er the battle-field thus doubtful swung the scales of war, the Fury (to her task now equal proven) having dyed the day a deep-ensanguined hue, and opened fight with death and slaughter, made no tarrying within Hesperia, but skyward soared, and, Ioud in triumph, insolently thus to Juno called: “See, at thy will, their strife full-blown to war and woe! Could even thyself command them now to truce and amity? But I, that with Ausonia's blood befoul their Trojan hands, yet more can do, if thou
shift not thy purpose. For with dire alarms I will awake the bordering states to war enkindling in their souls the frenzied lust the war-god breathes; till from th' horizon round the reinforcement pours—I scattering seeds of carnage through the land.” In answer spoke juno: “Enough of artifice and fear! Thy provocation works. Now have they joined in close and deadly combat, and warm blood those sudden-leaping swords incarnadines, which chance put in their hands. Such nuptial joys, such feast of wedlock, let the famous son
of Venus with the King Latinus share! But yon Olympian Sire and King no more permits thee freely in our skies to roam. Go, quit the field! Myself will take control of hazards and of labors yet to be.” Thus Saturn's daughter spoke. Alecto then, unfolding far her hissing, viperous wings, turned toward her Stygian home, and took farewell of upper air. Deep in Italia lies a region mountain-girded, widely famed, and known in olden songs from land to land: the valley of Amsanctus; deep, dark shades
enclose it between forest-walls, whereby through thunderous stony channel serpentines a roaring fall. Here in a monstrous cave are breathing-holes of hell, a vast abyss where Acheron opes wide its noisome jaws: in this Alecto plunged, concealing so her execrable godhead, while the air of earth and heaven felt the curse removed. Forthwith the sovereign hands of Juno haste to consummate the war. The shepherds bear back from the field of battle to the town the bodies of the slain: young Almo's corse
and gray Galaesus' bleeding head. They call just gods in heaven to Iook upon their wrong, and bid Latinus see it. Turnus comes, and, while the angry mob surveys the slain, adds fury to the hour. “Shall the land have Trojan lords? Shall Phrygian marriages debase our ancient, royal blood—and I be spurned upon the threshold?” Then drew near the men whose frenzied women-folk had held bacchantic orgies in the pathless grove, awed by Amata's name: these, gathering, sued loud for war. Yea, all defied the signs
and venerable omens; all withstood divine decrees, and clamored for revenge, prompted by evil powers. They besieged the house of King Latinus, shouting-loud with emulous rage. But like a sea-girt rock unmoved he stood; like sea-girt rock when surge of waters o'er it sweeps, or howling waves surround; it keeps a ponderous front of power, though foaming cliffs around it vainly roar; from its firm base the broken sea-weeds fall. But when authority no whit could change their counsels blind, and each event fulfilled
dread Juno's will, then with complaining prayer the aged sire cried loud upon his gods and on th' unheeding air: “Alas,” said he, “My doom is shipwreck, and the tempest bears my bark away! O wretches, your own blood shall pay the forfeit for your impious crime. O Turnus! O abominable deed! Avenging woes pursue thee; to deaf gods thy late and unavailing prayer shall rise. Now was my time to rest. But as I come close to my journey's end, thou spoilest me of comfort in my death.” With this the King
fled to his house and ceased his realm to guide. A sacred custom the Hesperian land of Latium knew, by all the Alban hills honored unbroken, which wide-ruling Rome keeps to this day, when to new stroke she stirs the might of Mars; if on the Danube's wave resolved to fling the mournful doom of war, or on the Caspian folk or Arabs wild; or chase the morning far as India's verge, ind from the Parthian despot wrest away our banners Iost. Twin Gates of War there be, of fearful name, to Mars' fierce godhead vowed:
a hundred brass bars shut them, and the strength of uncorrupting steel; in sleepless watch Janus the threshold keeps. 'T is here, what time the senate's voice is war, the consul grave in Gabine cincture and Quirinal shift himself the griding hinges backward moves, and bids the Romans arm; obedient then the legionary host makes Ioud acclaim, and hoarse consent the brazen trumpets blow. Thus King Latinus on the sons of Troy was urged to open war, and backward roll those gates of sorrow: but the aged king
recoiled, refused the loathsome task, and fled to solitary shades. Then from the skies the Queen of gods stooped down, and her sole hand the lingering portal moved; Saturnia swung on their hinges the barred gates of war. ausonia from its old tranquillity bursts forth in flame. Foot-soldiers through the field run to and fro; and mounted on tall steeds the cavaliers in clouds of dust whirl by. All arm in haste. Some oil the glittering shield or javelin bright, or on the whetstone wear good axes to an edge, while joyful bands
uplift the standards or the trumpets blow. Five mighty cities to their anvils bring new-tempered arms: Atina—martial name — proud Tibur, Ardea, Crustumium, and river-walled Antemnae, crowned with towers strong hollow helmets on their brows they draw and weave them willow-shields; or melt and mould corselets of brass or shining silver greaves; none now for pruning-hook or sacred plough have love or care: but old, ancestral swords for hardier tempering to the smith they bring. Now peals the clarion; through the legions pass
the watchwords: the impatient yeoman takes his helmet from the idle roof-tree hung; while to his chariot the master yokes the mettled war-horse, dons a shining shield and golden mail, and buckles his good sword. Virgins of Helicon, renew my song! Instruct me what proud kings to battle flown with following legions throng the serried plain. Tell me what heroes and illustrious arms Italia's bosom in her dawning day benignant bore: for your celestial minds, have memory of the past, but faint and low
steals glory's whisper on a mortal ear. Foremost in fight, from shores Etrurian came Mezentius, scornful rebel against Heaven, his people all in arms; and at his side Lausus his heir (no fairer youth than he, save Turnus of Laurentum), Lausus, skilled o break proud horses and wild beasts to quell; who from Agylla's citadel in vain led forth his thousand warriors: worthy he to serve a nobler sire, and happier far he had ne'er been born Mezentius' son. Next after these, conspicuous o'er the plain,
with palm-crowned chariot and victorious steeds, rode forth well-moulded Aventinus, sprung from shapely Hercules; upon the shield his blazon was a hundred snakes, and showed his father's hydra-cincture serpentine; him deep in Aventine's most secret grove the priestess Rhea bore—a mortal maid clasped in a god's embrace the wondrous day when, flushed with conquest of huge Geryon, the lord of Tiryns to Laurentum drove, and washed in Tiber's wave th' Iberian kine. His followers brandished pointed pikes and staves,
or smooth Sabellian bodkin tipped with steel; but he, afoot, swung round him as he strode a monstrous lion-skin, its bristling mane and white teeth crowning his ferocious brow: for garbed as Hercules he sought his King. 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.
Book 8
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. When hunger and its eager edge were gone, Evander spoke: “This votive holiday, yon tables spread and altar so divine,
are not some superstition dark and vain, that knows not the old gods, O Trojan King! But as men saved from danger and great fear this thankful sacrifice we pay. Behold, yon huge rock, beetling from the mountain wall, hung from the cliff above. How lone and bare the hollowed mountain looks! How crag on crag tumbled and tossed in huge confusion lie! A cavern once it was, which ran deep down into the darkness. There th' half-human shape of Cacus made its hideous den, concealed from sunlight and the day. The ground was wet
at all times with fresh gore; the portal grim was hung about with heads of slaughtered men, bloody and pale—a fearsome sight to see. Vulcan begat this monster, which spewed forth dark-fuming flames from his infernal throat, and vast his stature seemed. But time and tide brought to our prayers the advent of a god to help us at our need. For Hercules, divine avenger, came from laying low three-bodied Geryon, whose spoils he wore exultant, and with hands victorious drove the herd of monster bulls, which pastured free
along our river-valley. Cacus gazed in a brute frenzy, and left not untried aught of bold crime or stratagem, but stole four fine bulls as they fed, and heifers four, all matchless; but, lest hoof-tracks point his way, he dragged them cave-wards by the tails, confusing the natural trail, and hid the stolen herd in his dark den; and not a mark or sign could guide the herdsmen to that cavern-door. But after, when Amphitryon's famous son, preparing to depart, would from the meads goad forth the full-fed herd, his lingering bulls
roared loud, and by their lamentable cry filled grove and hills with clamor of farewell: one heifer from the mountain-cave lowed back in answer, so from her close-guarded stall foiling the monster's will. Then hadst thou seen the wrath of Hercules in frenzy blaze from his exasperate heart. His arms he seized, his club of knotted oak, and climbed full-speed the wind-swept hill. Now first our people saw Cacus in fear, with panic in his eyes. Swift to the black cave like a gale he flew, his feet by terror winged. Scarce had he passed
the cavern door, and broken the big chains, and dropped the huge rock which was pendent there by Vulcan's well-wrought steel; scarce blocked and barred the guarded gate: when there Tirynthius stood, with heart aflame, surveying each approach, rolling this way and that his wrathful eyes, gnashing his teeth. Three times his ire surveyed the slope of Aventine; three times he stormed the rock-built gate in vain; and thrice withdrew to rest him in the vale. But high above a pointed peak arose, sheer face of rock on every side, which towered into view
from the long ridge above the vaulted cave, fit haunt for birds of evil-boding wing. This peak, which leftward toward the river leaned, he smote upon its right—his utmost blow — breaking its bases Ioose; then suddenly thrust at it: as he thrust, the thunder-sound filled all the arching sky, the river's banks asunder leaped, and Tiber in alarm reversed his flowing wave. So Cacus' lair lay shelterless, and naked to the day the gloomy caverns of his vast abode stood open, deeply yawning, just as if
the riven earth should crack, and open wide th' infernal world and fearful kingdoms pale, which gods abhor; and to the realms on high the measureless abyss should be laid bare, and pale ghosts shrink before the entering sun. Now upon Cacus, startled by the glare, caged in the rocks and howling horribly, Alcides hurled his weapons, raining down all sorts of deadly missiles—trunks of trees, and monstrous boulders from the mountain torn. But when the giant from his mortal strait no refuge knew, he blew from his foul jaws
a storm of smoke—incredible to tell — and with thick darkness blinding every eye, concealed his cave, uprolling from below one pitch-black night of mingled gloom and fire. This would Alcides not endure, but leaped headlong across the flames, where densest hung the rolling smoke, and through the cavern surged a drifting and impenetrable cloud. With Cacus, who breathed unavailing flame, he grappled in the dark, locked limb with limb, and strangled him, till o'er the bloodless throat the starting eyeballs stared.Then Hercules
burst wide the doorway of the sooty den, and unto Heaven and all the people showed the stolen cattle and the robber's crimes, and dragged forth by the feet the shapeless corpse of the foul monster slain. The people gazed insatiate on the grewsome eyes, the breast of bristling shag, the face both beast and man, and that fire-blasted throat whence breathed no more the extinguished flame. 'T is since that famous day we celebrate this feast, and glad of heart each generation keeps the holy time. Potitius began the worship due,
and our Pinarian house is vowed to guard the rites of Hercules. An altar fair within this wood they raised; 't is called ‘the Great,’ and Ara Maxima its name shall be. Come now, my warriors, and bind your brows with garlands worthy of the gift of Heaven. Lift high the cup in every thankful hand, and praise our people's god with plenteous wine.” He spoke; and of the poplar's changeful sheen, sacred to Hercules, wove him a wreath to shade his silvered brow. The sacred cup he raised in his right hand, while all the rest
called on the gods and pure libation poured. Soon from the travelling heavens the western star glowed nearer, and Potitius led forth the priest-procession, girt in ancient guise with skins of beasts and carrying burning brands. new feasts are spread, and altars heaped anew with gifts and laden chargers. Then with song the Salian choir surrounds the blazing shrine, their foreheads wreathed with poplar. Here the youth, the elders yonder, in proud anthem sing the glory and the deeds of Hercules: how first he strangled with strong infant hand
two serpents, Juno's plague; what cities proud, Troy and Oechalia, his famous war in pieces broke; what labors numberless as King Eurystheus' bondman he endured, by cruel Juno's will. “Thou, unsubdued, didst strike the twy-formed, cloud-bred centaurs down, Pholus and tall Hylaeus. Thou hast slain the Cretan horror, and the lion huge beneath the Nemean crag. At sight of thee the Stygian region quailed, and Cerberus, crouching o'er half-picked bones in gory cave. Nothing could bid thee fear. Typhoeus towered
in his colossal Titan-panoply o'er thee in vain; nor did thy cunning fail when Lema's wonder-serpent round thee drew its multudinous head. Hail, Jove's true son! New glory to the gods above, come down, and these thine altars and thy people bless!” Such hymns they chanted, telling oft the tale of Cacus' cave and blasting breath of fire: while hills and sacred grove the note prolong. 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.
Night's course half run, soon as the first repose had banished sleep,—what time some careful wife whose distaff and Minerva's humble toil must earn her bread, rekindling her warm hearth, adds a night-burden to her laboring day, and by the torch-light cheers her maidens on to their long tasks; that so her husband's bed she may in honor keep, and train to power her dear men-children—at such prime of morn, with not less eager mind the Lord of Fire fled his soft couch and to his forges tried. An island near Aeolian Lipara
not far from a Sicilian headland lies, where smoking rocks precipitously tower above a vast vault, which the Cyclops' skill outhollowed large as Aetna's thunderous caves. There ring the smitten anvils, and the roof re-echoes, roaring loud. Chalybian ores hiss in the gloom, and from the furnace mouths puff the hot-panting fires. 'T is Vulcan's seat, and all that island is Vulcania. Thither descended now the god of fire from height of heaven. At their task were found the Cyclops in vast cavern forging steel,
naked Pyracmon and gigantic-limbed Brontes and Steropes; beneath their blows a lightning-shaft, half-shaped, half-burnished lay, such as the Thunderer is wont to fling in numbers from the sky, but formless still. Three strands of whirling storm they wove with three of bursting cloud, and three did interfuse of ruddy-gleaming fires and winged winds; then fearful lightnings on the skilful forge they welded with loud horror, and with flames that bear swift wrath from Jove. Elsewhere a crew toiled at the chariot and winged wheel
wherewith the war-god wakens from repose heroes and peopled cities. Others wrought the awful Aegis, herald of dismay, by angry Pallas worn; they burnished bright the golden serpent-scales and wreathing snakes, till from the corselet of the goddess glared the Gorgon's severed head and rolling eyes. “Cyclops of Aetna,” Vulcan cried, “have done! Leave ev'ry task unfinished, and receive my new command! Good armor must be forged for warrior brave. For this I need to use your utmost sinew and your swiftest hand,
with all your master skill. No lingering now!” Swift the command, and swiftly they divide to each his portion, and united urge the common task. Forth fow the molten streams of brass and gold, and, melted in fierce fiame, the deeply-wounding steel like liquid flows. A mighty shield took shape, its single orb sufficient to withstand the gathered shock of all the Latin arms; for seven times they welded ring with ring. Some deftly ply the windy bellows, which receive and give the roaring blasts; some plunge in cooling pond
the hissing metal, while the smithy floor groans with the anvil's weight, as side by side they lift their giant arms in numbered blows and roll with gripe of tongs the ponderous bars. While thus the Lemnian god his labor sped in far Aeolian isle, the cheerful morn with voice of swallows round his lowly eaves summoned Evander. From his couch arose the royal sire, and o'er his aged frame a tunic threw, tying beneath his feet the Tuscan sandals: an Arcadian sword, girt at his left, was over one shoulder slung,
his cloak of panther trailing from behind. A pair of watch-dogs from the lofty door ran close, their lord attending, as he sought his guest Aeneas; for his princely soul remembered faithfully his former word, and promised gift. Aeneas with like mind was stirring early. King Evander's son Pallas was at his side; Achates too accompanied his friend. All these conjoin in hand-clasp and good-morrow, taking seats in midcourt of the house, and give the hour to converse unrestrained. First spoke the King:
“Great leader of the Teucrians, while thy life in safety stands, I call not Trojan power vanquished or fallen. But to help thy war my small means match not thy redoubled name. Yon Tuscan river is my bound. That way Rutulia thrusts us hard and chafes our wall with loud, besieging arms. But I propose to league with thee a numerous array of kings and mighty tribes, which fortune strange now brings to thy defence. Thou comest here because the Fates intend. Not far from ours a city on an ancient rock is seen,
Agylla, which a warlike Lydian clan built on the Tuscan hills. It prospered well for many a year, then under the proud yoke of King Mezentius it came and bore his cruel sway. Why tell the loathsome deeds and crimes unspeakable the despot wrought? May Heaven requite them on his impious head and on his children! For he used to chain dead men to living, hand on hand was laid and face on face,—torment incredible! Till, locked in blood-stained, horrible embrace, a lingering death they found. But at the last
his people rose in furious despair, and while he blasphemously raged, assailed his life and throne, cut down his guards and fired his regal dwellings; he, the while, escaped immediate death and fied away to the Rutulian land, to find defence in Turnus hospitality. To-day Etruria, to righteous anger stirred, demands with urgent arms her guilty King. To their large host, Aeneas, I will give an added strength, thyself. For yonder shores re-echo with the tumult and the cry
of ships in close array; their eager lords are clamoring for battle. But the song of the gray omen-giver thus declares their destiny: ‘O goodly princes born of old Maeonian lineage! Ye that are the bloom and glory of an ancient race, whom just occasions now and noble rage enflame against Mezentius your foe, it is decreed that yonder nation proud shall never submit to chiefs Italian-born. Seek ye a king from far!’ So in the field inert and fearful lies Etruria's force,
disarmed by oracles. Their Tarchon sent envoys who bore a sceptre and a crown even to me, and prayed I should assume the sacred emblems of Etruria's king, and lead their host to war. But unto me cold, sluggish age, now barren and outworn, denies new kingdoms, and my slow-paced powers run to brave deeds no more. Nor could I urge my son, who by his Sabine mother's line is half Italian-born. Thyself art he, whose birth illustrious and manly prime fate favors and celestial powers approve.
Therefore go forth, O bravest chief and King of Troy and Italy! To thee I give the hope and consolation of our throne, pallas, my son, and bid him find in thee a master and example, while he learns the soldier's arduous toil. With thy brave deeds let him familiar grow, and reverence thee with youthful love and honor. In his train two hundred horsemen of Arcadia, our choicest men-at-arms, shall ride; and he in his own name an equal band shall bring to follow only thee.” Such the discourse.
With meditative brows and downcast eyes Aeneas and Achates, sad at heart, mused on unnumbered perils yet to come. But out of cloudless sky Cythera's Queen gave sudden signal: from th' ethereal dome a thunder-peal and flash of quivering fire tumultuous broke, as if the world would fall, and bellowing Tuscan trumpets shook the air. All eyes look up. Again and yet again crashed the terrible din, and where the sky looked clearest hung a visionary cloud, whence through the brightness blazed resounding arms.
All hearts stood still. But Troy's heroic son knew that his mother in the skies redeemed her pledge in sound of thunder: so he cried, “Seek not, my friend, seek not thyself to read the meaning of the omen. 'T is to me Olympus calls. My goddess-mother gave long since her promise of a heavenly sign if war should burst; and that her power would bring a panoply from Vulcan through the air, to help us at our need. Alas, what deaths over Laurentum's ill-starred host impend! O Turnus, what a reckoning thou shalt pay
to me in arms! O Tiber, in thy wave what helms and shields and mighty soldiers slain shall in confusion roll! Yea, let them lead their lines to battle, and our league abjure!” He said: and from the lofty throne uprose. Straightway he roused anew the slumbering fire sacred to Hercules, and glad at heart adored, as yesterday, the household gods revered by good Evander, at whose side the Trojan company made sacrifice of chosen lambs, with fitting rites and true. Then to his ships he tried him, and rejoined
his trusty followers, of whom he took the best for valor known, to lend him aid in deeds of war. Others he bade return down stream in easy course, and tidings bear to young Ascanius of the new event, and of his father. Horses then were brought for all the Teucrians to Etruria bound; and for Aeneas one of rarest breed, o'er whom a tawny robe descended low, of lion-skin, with claws of gleaming gold. Noised swiftly through the little town it flies that to the precinct of the Tuscan King
armed horsemen speed. Pale mothers in great fear unceasing pray; for panic closely runs in danger's steps; the war-god drawing nigh looms larger; and good sire Evander now clings to the hand of his departing son and, weeping without stay, makes sad farewell: “O, that great Jove would give me once again my vanished years! O, if such man I were, as when beneath Praeneste's wall I slew the front ranks of her sons, and burned for spoil their gathered shields on my triumph day; or when this right hand hurled king Erulus
to shades below, though—terrible to tell — Feronia bore him with three lives, that thrice he might arise from deadly strife o'erthrown, and thrice be slain—yet all these lives took I, and of his arms despoiled him o'er and o'er: not now, sweet son (if such lost might were mine), should I from thy beloved embrace be torn; nor could Mezentius with insulting sword do murder in my sight and make my land depopulate and forlorn. O gods in Heaven, and chiefly thou whom all the gods obey, have pity, Jove, upon Arcadia's King,
and hear a father's prayer: if your intent be for my Pallas a defence secure, if it be writ that long as I shall live, my eyes may see him, and my arms enfold, I pray for life, and all its ills I bear. But if some curse, too dark to tell, impend from thee, O Fortune blind! I pray thee break my thread of miserable life to-day; to-day, while fear still doubts and hope still smiles on the unknown to-morrow, as I hold thee to my bosom, dearest child, who art my last and only joy; to-day, before
th' intolerable tidings smite my ears.” Such grief the royal father's heart outpoured at this last parting; the strong arms of slaves lifted him, fallen in swoon, and bore him home. Now forth beneath the wide-swung city-gates the mounted squadron poured; Aeneas rode, companioned of Achates, in the van; then other lords of Troy. There Pallas shone conspicuous in the midmost line, with cloak and blazoned arms, as when the Morning-star (To Venus dearest of all orbs that burn), out of his lucent bath in ocean wave
lifts to the skies his countenance divine, and melts the shadows of the night away. Upon the ramparts trembling matrons stand and follow with dimmed eyes the dusty cloud whence gleam the brazen arms. The warriors ride straight on through brake and fell, the nearest way; loud ring the war-cries, and in martial line the pounding hoof-beats shake the crumbling ground. By Caere's cold flood lies an ample grove revered from age to age. The hollowing hills enclasp it in wide circles of dark fir, and the Pelasgians, so the legends tell,
primaeval settlers of the Latin plains, called it the haunt of Silvan, kindly god of flocks and fields, and honoring the grove gave it a festal day. Hard by this spot had Tarchon with the Tuscans fortified his bivouac, and from the heights afar his legions could be seen in wide array outstretching through the plain. To meet them there Aeneas and his veteran chivalry made sure advance, and found repose at eve for warrior travel-worn and fainting steed. But now athwart the darkening air of heaven
came Venus gleaming bright, to bring her son the gifts divine. In deep, sequestered vale she found him by a cooling rill retired, and hailed him thus: “Behold the promised gift, by craft and power of my Olympian spouse made perfect, that my son need never fear Laurentum's haughty host, nor to provoke fierce Turnus to the fray.” Cythera's Queen so saying, embraced her son, and hung the arms, all glittering, on an oak that stood thereby. The hero, with exultant heart and proud, gazing unwearied at his mother's gift,
surveys them close, and poises in his hands the helmet's dreadful crest and glancing flame, the sword death-dealing, and the corselet strong, impenetrable brass, blood-red and large, like some dark-lowering, purple cloud that gleams beneath the smiting sun and flashes far its answering ray; and burnished greaves were there, fine gold and amber; then the spear and shield — the shield—of which the blazonry divine exceeds all power to tell. Thereon were seen Italia's story and triumphant Rome, wrought by the Lord of Fire, who was not blind
to lore inspired and prophesying song, fore-reading things to come. He pictured there Iulus' destined line of glorious sons marshalled for many a war. In cavern green, haunt of the war-god, lay the mother-wolf; the twin boy-sucklings at her udders played, nor feared such nurse; with long neck backward thrown she fondled each, and shaped with busy tongue their bodies fair. Near these were pictured well the walls of Rome and ravished Sabine wives in the thronged theatre violently seized, when the great games were done; then, sudden war
of Romulus against the Cures grim and hoary Tatius; next, the end of strife between the rival kings, who stood in arms before Jove's sacred altar, cup in hand, and swore a compact o'er the slaughtered swine. Hard by, behold, the whirling chariots tore Mettus asunder (would thou hadst been true, false Alban, to thy vow!); and Tullus trailed the traitor's mangled corse along the hills, the wild thorn dripping gore. Porsenna, next, sent to revolted Rome his proud command to take her Tarquin back, and with strong siege
assailed the city's wall; while unsubdued Aeneas' sons took arms in freedom's name. there too the semblance of the frustrate King, a semblance of his wrath and menace vain, when Cocles broke the bridge, and Cloelia burst her captive bonds and swam the Tiber's wave. Lo, on the steep Tarpeian citadel stood Manlius at the sacred doors of Jove, holding the capitol, whereon was seen the fresh-thatched house of Romulus the King. There, too, all silver, through arcade of gold fluttered the goose, whose monitory call
revealed the foeman at the gate: outside besieging Gauls the thorny pathway climbed, ambushed in shadow and the friendly dark of night without a star; their flowing hair was golden, and their every vesture gold; their cloaks were glittering plaid; each milk-white neck bore circlet of bright gold; in each man's hand two Alpine javelins gleamed, and for defence long shields the wild northern warriors bore. There, graven cunningly, the Salian choir went leaping, and in Lupercalian feast the naked striplings ran; while others, crowned
with peaked cap, bore shields that fell from heaven; and, bearing into Rome their emblems old, chaste priestesses on soft-strewn litters passed. But far from these th' artificer divine had wrought a Tartarus, the dreadful doors of Pluto, and the chastisements of sin; swung o'er a threatening precipice, was seen thy trembling form, O Catiline, in fear of fury-faces nigh: and distant far th' assemblies of the righteous, in whose midst was Cato, giving judgment and decree. Encircled by these pictures ran the waves
of vast, unrestful seas in flowing gold, where seemed along the azure crests to fly the hoary foam, and in a silver ring the tails of swift, emerging dolphins lashed the waters bright, and clove the tumbling brine. For the shield's central glory could be seen great fleets of brazen galleys, and the fight at Actium; where, ablaze with war's array, Leucate's peak glowed o'er the golden tide. Caesar Augustus led Italia's sons to battle: at his side concordant moved Senate and Roman People, with their gods
of hearth and home, and all Olympian Powers. Uplifted on his ship he stands; his brows beneath a double glory smile, and bright over his forehead beams the Julian star. in neighboring region great Agrippa leads, by favor of fair winds and friendly Heaven, his squadron forth: upon his brows he wears the peerless emblem of his rostral crown. Opposing, in barbaric splendor shine the arms of Antony: in victor's garb from nations in the land of morn he rides, and from the Red Sea, bringing in his train
Egypt and Syria, utmost Bactria's horde, and last—O shameless!—his Egyptian spouse. All to the fight make haste; the slanted oars and triple beaks of brass uptear the waves to angry foam, as to the deep they speed like hills on hill-tops hurled, or Cyclades drifting and clashing in the sea: so vast that shock of castled ships and mighty men! Swift, arrowy steel and balls of blazing tow rain o'er the waters, till the sea-god's world flows red with slaughter. In the midst, the Queen, sounding her native timbrel, wildly calls
her minions to the fight, nor yet can see two fatal asps behind. Her monster-gods, barking Anubis, and his mongrel crew, on Neptune, Venus, and Minerva fling their impious arms; the face of angry Mars, carved out of iron, in the centre frowns, grim Furies fill the air; Discordia strides in rent robe, mad with joy; and at her side, bellona waves her sanguinary scourge. There Actian Apollo watched the war, and o'er it stretched his bow; which when they knew, Egyptian, Arab, and swart Indian slave,
and all the sons of Saba fled away in terror of his arm. The vanquished Queen made prayer to all the winds, and more and more flung out the swelling sail: on wind-swept wave she fled through dead and dying; her white brow the Lord of Fire had cunningly portrayed blanched with approaching doom. Beyond her lay the large-limbed picture of the mournful Nile, who from his bosom spread his garments wide, and offered refuge in his sheltering streams and broad, blue breast, to all her fallen power. But Caesar in his triple triumph passed
the gates of Rome, and gave Italia's gods, for grateful offering and immortal praise, three hundred temples; all the city streets with game and revel and applauding song rang loud; in all the temples altars burned and Roman matrons prayed; the slaughtered herds strewed well the sacred ground. The hero, throned at snow-white marble threshold of the fane to radiant Phoebus, views the gift and spoil the nations bring, and on the portals proud hangs a perpetual garland: in long file the vanquished peoples pass, of alien tongues,
of arms and vesture strange. Here Vulcan showed ungirdled Afric chiefs and Nomads bold, Gelonian bowmen, men of Caria, and Leleges. Euphrates seemed to flow with humbler wave; the world's remotest men, Morini came, with double-horned Rhine, and Dahae, little wont to bend the knee, and swift Araxes, for a bridge too proud. Such was the blazoned shield his mother gave from Vulcan's forge; which with astonished eyes Aeneas viewed, and scanned with joyful mind such shadows of an unknown age to be;
then on his shoulder for a burden bore the destined mighty deeds of all his sons.
Book 9
While thus in distant region moves the war, down to bold Turnus Saturn's daughter sends celestial Iris. In a sacred vale, the seat of worship at his grandsire's tomb, Pilumnus, Faunus' son, the hero mused. And thus the wonder-child of Thaumas called with lips of rose: “O Turnus, what no god dared give for reward of thy fondest vow, has come unbidden on its destined day. Behold, Aeneas, who has left behind the city with his fleet and followers, is gone to kingly Palatine, the home
of good Evander. Yea, his march invades the far Etrurian towns, where now he arms the Lydian rustics. Wilt thou longer muse? Call for thy chariot and steeds! Away! Take yonder tents by terror and surprise!” She spoke; and heavenward on poising wings soared, cleaving as she fled from cloud to cloud a vast, resplendent bow. The warrior saw, and, lifting both his hands, pursued with prayer the fading glory: “Beauteous Iris, hail! Proud ornament of heaven! who sent thee here across yon cloud to earth, and unto me?
Whence may this sudden brightness fall? I see the middle welkin lift, and many a star, far-wandering in the sky. Such solemn sign I shall obey, and thee, O god unknown!” So saying, he turned him to a sacred stream, took water from its brim, and offered Heaven much prayer, with many an importuning vow. Soon o'er the spreading fields in proud array the gathered legions poured; no lack was there of steeds all fire, and broidered pomp and gold. Messapus led the van; in rearguard rode the sons of Tyrrheus; kingly Turnus towered
from the mid-column eminent: the host moved as great Ganges lifting silently his seven peaceful streams, or when the flood of fructifying Nile from many a field back to his channel flows. A swift-blown cloud of black, uprolling dust the Teucrians see o'ershadowing the plain; Calcus calls from lofty outpost: “O my countrymen, I see a huge, black ball of rolling smoke. Your swords and lances! Man the walls! To arms! The foe is here! What ho!” With clamors loud the Teucrians through the city-gates retire,
and muster on the walls. For, wise in war, Aeneas, ere he went, had left command they should not range in battle-line, nor dare, whate'er might hap, to risk in open plain the bold sortie, but keep them safe entrenched in mounded walls. So now, though rage and shame prick to a close fight, they defensive bar each portal strong, and, patient of control, from hollow towers expect th' encircling foe. Turnus, at full speed, had outridden far his laggard host, and, leading in his train a score of chosen knights, dashed into view
hard by the walls. A barb of Thracian breed dappled with white he rode; a crimson plume flamed over his golden helmet. “Who,” he cries, “Is foremost at the foe? Who follows me? Behold!” And, with the word, he hurled in air a javelin, provoking instant war: and, towering from his horse, charged o'er the field. With answering shout his men-at-arms pursue, and war-cries terrible. They laugh to scorn “the craven hearts of Troy, that cannot give fair, equal vantage, matching man to man, but cuddle into camp.” This way and that
Turnus careers, and stormily surveys the frowning rampart, and where way is none some entering breach would find: so prowls a wolf nigh the full sheepfold, and through wind and rain stands howling at the postern all night long; beneath the ewes their bleating lambs lie safe; but he, with undesisting fury, more rages from far, made frantic for his prey by hunger of long hours, his foaming jaws athirst for blood: not less the envy burned of the Rutulian, as he scanned in vain the stronghold of his foe. Indignant scorn
thrilled all his iron frame. But how contrive to storm the fortress or by force expel the Trojans from the rampart, and disperse along the plain? Straightway he spied the ships, in hiding near the camp, defended well by mounded river-bank and fleeting wave. On these he fell; while his exultant crew brought firebrands, and he with heart aflame grasped with a vengeful hand the blazing pine. To the wild work his followers sped; for who could prove him craven under Turnus' eye? The whole troop for the weapon of their rage
seized smoking coals, of many a hearth the spoil; red glare of fuming torches burned abroad, and Vulcan starward flung a sparkling cloud. What god, O Muses, saved the Trojans then from wrathful flame? Who shielded then the fleet, I pray you tell, from bursting storm of fire? From hoary eld the tale, but its renown sings on forever. When Aeneas first on Phrygian Ida hewed the sacred wood for rib and spar, and soon would put to sea, that mighty mother of the gods, they say, the Berecynthian goddess, thus to Jove
addressed her plea: “Grant, O my son, a boon, which thy dear mother asks, who aided thee to quell Olympian war. A grove I have of sacred pine, long-loved from year to year. On lofty hill it grew, and thither came my worshippers with gifts, in secret gloom of pine-trees dark and shadowing maple-boughs.; these on the Dardan warrior at his need I, not unwilling, for his fleet bestowed. But I have fears. O, Iet a parent's prayer in this prevail, and bid my care begone! Let not rude voyages nor the shock of storm
my ships subdue, but let their sacred birth on my charmed hills their strength and safety be!” Then spake her son, who guides the wheeling spheres: “Wouldst thou, my mother, strive to oversway the course of Fate? What means this prayer of thine? Can it be granted ships of mortal mould to wear immortal being? Wouldst thou see Aeneas pass undoubting and secure through doubtful strait and peril? On what god was e'er such power bestowed? Yet will I grant a different boon. Whatever ships shall find a safe Ausonian haven, and convey
safe through the seas to yon Laurentian plain the Dardan King, from such I will remove their perishable shapes, and bid them be sea-nymphs divine, like Nereus' daughters fair, Doto and Galatea, whose white breasts divide the foaming wave.” He said, and swore by his Tartarean brother's mournful stream, the pitch-black floods and dark engulfing shore of Styx; then great Jove bowed his head, and all Olympus quaked at his consenting brow. Now was the promised day at hand (for Fate had woven the web so far) when Turnus' rage
stirred the divine progenitress to save her sacred ships from fire. Then sudden shone a strange effulgence in the eastern air; and in a storm-cloud wafted o'er the sky were Corybantic choirs, whose dreadful song smote both on Teucrian and Rutulian ear: “O Teucrians, fear not for the sure defence of all the ships, nor arm your mortal hands. Yon impious Turnus shall burn up the seas before my pine-trees blest. Arise! Be free, ye goddesses of ocean, and obey your mother's mighty word.” Then instant broke
the hawsers of the sterns; the beaked prows went plunging like great dolphins from the shore down to the deeps, and, wonderful to tell, the forms of virgin goddesses uprose, one for each ship, and seaward sped away. 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. The Trojans peering from the lofty walls survey the foe, and arm for sure defence
of every point exposed. They prove the gates with fearful care, bind bridge with tower, and bring good store of javelins. Serestus bold and Mnestheus to their labors promptly fly, whom Sire Aeneas bade in time of stress to have authority and free command over his warriars. Along the walls the legions, by the cast of lots, divide the pain and peril, giving each his due of alternating vigil and repose. Nisus kept sentry at the gate: a youth of eager heart for noble deeds, the son
of Hyrtacus, whom in Aeneas' train Ida the huntress sent; swift could he speed the spear or light-winged arrow to its aim. Beside him was Euryalus, his friend: of all th' Aeneadae no youth more fair wore Trojan arms; upon his cheek unshorn the tender bloom of boyhood lingered still. Their loving hearts were one, and oft in war they battled side by side, as in that hour a common sentry at the gate they shared. Said Nisus: “Is it gods above that breathe this fever in my soul, Euryalus?
or is the tyrant passion of each breast the god it serves? Me now my urgent mind to battles or some mighty deed impels, and will not give me rest. Look yonder, where the Rutuli in dull security the siege maintain. Yet are their lights but few. They are asleep or drunk, and in their line is many a silent space. O, hear my thought, and what my heart is pondering. To recall Aeneas is the dearest wish to-night of all, both high and low. They need true men to find him and bring tidings. If our chiefs
but grant me leave to do the thing I ask (Claiming no reward save what honor gives), methinks I could search out by yonder hill a path to Pallanteum.” The amazed Euryalus, flushed warm with eager love for deeds of glory, instantly replied to his high-hearted friend: “Dost thou refuse, my Nisus, to go with me hand in hand when mighty deeds are done? Could I behold thee venturing alone on danger? Nay! Not thus my sire Opheltes, schooled in war, taught me his true child, 'mid the woes of Troy
and Argive terrors reared; not thus with thee have I proved craven, since we twain were leal to great Aeneas, sharing all his doom. In this breast also is a heart which knows contempt of life, and deems such deeds, such praise, well worth a glorious death.” Nisus to him: “I have not doubted thee, nor e'er could have one thought disloyal. May almighty Jove, or whatsoe'er good power my purpose sees, bring me triumphant to thy arms once more! But if, as oft in doubtful deeds befalls, some stroke of chance, or will divine, should turn
to adverse, 't is my fondest prayer that thou shouldst live the longer of us twain. Thy years suit better with more life. Oh! let there be one mourner true to carry to its grave my corpse, recaptured in the desperate fray, or ransomed for a price. Or if this boon should be—'t is Fortune's common way—refused, then pay the debt of grief and loyal woe unto my far-off dust, and garlands leave upon an empty tomb. No grief I give to any sorrowing mother; one alone, of many Trojan mothers, had the heart
to follow thee, her child, and would not stay in great Acestes' land.” His friend replied: “Thou weavest but a web of empty words and reasons vain, nor dost thou shake at all my heart's resolve. Come, let us haste away!” He answered so, and summoned to the gate a neighboring watch, who, bringing prompt relief, the sentry-station took; then quitted he his post assigned; at Nisus' side he strode, and both impatient sped them to the King. Now in all lands all creatures that have breath lulled care in slumber, and each heart forgot
its load of toil and pain. But they who led the Teucrian cause, with all their chosen brave, took counsel in the kingdom's hour of need what action to command or whom dispatch with tidings to Aeneas. In mid-camp on long spears leaning and with ready shield to leftward slung, th' assembled warriors stood. Thither in haste arrived the noble pair, brave Nisus with Euryalus his friend, and craved a hearing, for their suit, they said, was urgent and well-worth a patient ear. Iulus to the anxious striplings gave
a friendly welcome, bidding Nisus speak. The son of Hyrtacus obeyed: “O, hear, Princes of Teucria, with impartial mind, nor judge by our unseasoned youth the worth of what we bring. Yon Rutule watch is now in drunken sleep, and all is silent there. With our own eyes we picked out a good place to steal a march, that cross-road by the gate close-fronting on the bridge. Their lines of fire are broken, and a murky, rolling smoke fills all the region. If ye grant us leave by this good luck to profit, we will find
Aeneas and the walls of Palatine, and after mighty slaughter and huge spoil ye soon shall see us back. Nor need ye fear we wander from the way. Oft have we seen that city's crest loom o'er the shadowy vales, where we have hunted all day long and know each winding of yon river.” Then uprose aged Aletes, crowned with wisdom's years: “Gods of our fathers, who forevermore watch over Troy, ye surely had no mind to blot out Teucria's name, when ye bestowed such courage on young hearts, and bade them be
so steadfast and so leal.” Joyful he clasped their hands in his, and on their shoulders leaned, his aged cheek and visage wet with tears. “What reward worthy of such actions fair, dear heroes, could be given? Your brightest prize will come from Heaven and your own hearts. The rest Aeneas will right soon bestow; nor will Ascanius, now in youth's unblemished prime, ever forget your praise.” Forthwith replied Aeneas' son, “By all our household gods, by great Assaracus, and every shrine of venerable Vesta, I confide
my hopes, my fortunes, and all future weal to your heroic hearts. O, bring me back my father! Set him in these eyes once more! That day will tears be dry; and I will give two silver wine-cups graven and o'erlaid with clear-cut figures, which my father chose out of despoiled Arisbe; also two full talents of pure gold, and tripods twain, and ancient wine-bowl, Tyrian Dido's token. But if indeed our destiny shall be to vanquish Italy in prosperous war, to seize the sceptre and divide the spoil, —
saw you that steed of Turnus and the arms in which he rode, all golden? That same steed, that glittering shield and haughty crimson crest I will reserve thee, e'er the lots are cast, and, Nisus, they are thine. Hereto my sire will add twelve captive maids of beauty rare, and slaves in armor; last, thou hast the fields which now Latinus holds. But as for thee, to whom my youth but binds me closer still, thee, kingly boy, my whole heart makes my own, and through all changeful fortune we shall be inseparable peers: nor will I seek
renown and glory, or in peace or war, forgetting thee: but trust thee from this day in deed and word.” To him in answer spoke euryalus, “O, may no future show this heart unworthy thy heroic call! And may our fortune ever prosperous prove, not adverse. But I now implore of thee a single boon worth all beside. I have a mother, from the venerated line of Priam sprung, whom not the Trojan shore nor King Acestes' city could detain, alas! from following me. I leave her now
without farewell; nor is her love aware of my supposed peril. For I swear by darkness of this night and thy right hand, that all my courage fails me if I see a mother's tears. O, therefore, I implore, be thou her sorrow's comfort and sustain her solitary day. Such grace from thee equip me for my war, and I shall face with braver heart whatever fortune brings.” With sudden sorrow thrilled, the veteran lords of Teucria showed their tears. But most of all such likeness of his own heart's filial love
on fair Iulus moved, and thus he spoke: “Promise thyself what fits thy generous deeds. Thy mother shall be mine, Creusa's name alone not hers; nor is the womb unblest that bore a child like thee. Whate'er success may follow, I make oath immutable by my own head, on which my father swore, that all I promise thee of gift or praise if home thou comest triumphing, shall be the glory of thy mother and thy kin.” Weeping he spoke, and from his shoulder drew the golden sword, well-wrought and wonderful,
which once in Crete Lycaon's cunning made and sheathed in ivory. On Nisus then Mnestheus bestowed a shaggy mantle torn from a slain lion; good Aletes gave exchange of crested helms. In such array they hastened forth; and all the princely throng, young men and old, ran with them to the gates, praying all gods to bless. Iulus then, a fair youth, but of grave, heroic soul beyond his years, gave them in solemn charge full many a message for his sire, but these the hazard of wild winds soon scattered far,
and flung them fruitless on the darkening storm. Forth through the moat they climb, and steal away through midnight shades, to where their foemen lie encamped in arms; of whom, before these fall, a host shall die. Along the turf were seen, laid low in heavy slumber and much wine, a prostrate troop; the horseless chariots stood tilted on the shore, 'twixt rein and wheel the drivers dozed, wine-cups and idle swords strewn round them without heed. The first to speak was Nisus. “Look, Euryalus,” he cried, “Now boldly strike. The hour to do the deed
is here, the path this way. Keep wide-eyed watch that no man smite behind us. I myself will mow the mighty fieid, and lead thee on in a wide swath of slaughter.” With this word he shut his lips; and hurled him with his sword on haughty Rhamnes, who lay propped at ease on pillows huge, and from his heaving breast poured slumber loud: of royal stem was he and honored of King Turnus for his skill in augury; yet could no augur's charm that bloody stroke forefend. And Nisus slew three slaves near by, that lay in reckless sleep
upon their spears; then him that bore the shield of Remus, then the driver of his car close to the horses caught; his sword cut through their prostrate necks; then their great master's head he lifted high, and left decapitate the huge corpse spilling forth its crimson gore o'er couch and ground. Like stroke on Lamus fell and Lamyrus, with young Serranus, who had gamed the midnight through and sleeping lay, his fair young body to the wine-god given; but happier now had that long-revelling night been merry till the dawn! Thus round full folds
of sheep a famished lion fiercely prowls; mad hunger moves him; he devours and rends with bloody, roaring mouth, the feeble flock that trembles and is dumb. Nor was the sword of fair Euryalus less fatal found; but fiercely raging on his path of death, he pressed on through a base and nameless throng, Rhoetus, Herbesus, Fadus, Abaris; surprising all save Rhoetus, who awake saw every stroke, and crouched in craven fear behind a mighty wine-bowl; but not less clean through his bare breast as he started forth
the youth thrust home his sword, then drew it back death-dripping, while the bursting purple stream of life outflowed, with mingling blood and wine. Then, flushed with stealthy slaughter, he crept near the followers of Messapus, where he saw their camp-fire dying down, and tethered steeds upon the meadow feeding. Nisus then knew the hot lust of slaughter had swept on too far, and cried, “Hold off! For, lo, the monitory dawn is nigh. Revenge has fed us to the full. We have achieved clean passage through the foe.” Full many a prize
was left untaken: princely suits of mail enwrought with silver pure, huge drinking-bowls, and broideries fair. Yet grasped Euryalus the blazonry at Rhamnes' corselet hung, and belt adorned with gold: which were a gift to Remulus of Tibur from the store of opulent Caedicus, who sued from far to be a friend; and these in death he gave to his son's son, who slain in battle fell, and proud Rutulians seized them with the spoil. Euryalus about his shoulder strong this booty slung—unprofitable gain! —
and fitted on a gorgeous, crested helm which once Messapus wore. So from the camp, escaping danger, the two champions ran. But horsemen from the Latin city sent to join the serried legions of the plain had come at Turnus' call, three hundred strong all bearing shields, and under the command of Volscens. Nigh the camp and walls they drew; and soon they spied upon the leftward path th' heroic pair, where in dim shades of night the helmet of Euryalus betrayed the heedless boy, and with a glancing beam
flashed on the foe. Nor was it seen in vain. Loud from the line the voice of Volscens called: “Stand, gentlemen! What business brings you here? Whose your allegiance? Whither speed so fast?” No answer gave they save to fly in haste to cover of the forest and deep gloom of the defensive night. The horsemen then blocked every crossway known, and, scattering wide, kept sentry at the entrance. The great wood was all of tangled brush and blinding shade of flex-boughs. Impenetrable thorns had thickly overgrown, and seldom showed
a pathway through the maze. Euryalus, by the black branches and his ponderous spoil impeded, groped along in fearful doubt, deceived and quite astray. Nisus his friend had quit him, and incautiously had forced a sally through the close-encircling foe, into that region which should after bear the name of Alba—a rude shelter then for King Latinus' herds. He stayed him there and looked, but vainly, for the comrade gone. “Euryalus, ill-fated boy!” he cried, “Where have I lost thee in the pathless wild?
How find thee? How retrace the blinding maze of yonder treacherous wood?” Yet ere he said, on his own path he turns him back, and scans his own light footprints through the tangled thorn, so dark and still. But suddenly he hears the tread of horses, with confusing din and tumult of pursuit. Nor was it long he tarried ere upon his anguished ear smote a great cry: and, lo! Euryalus, trapped by the dark night, the deceptive ground, faced the whole onset, and fell back o'erwhelmed by a loud mob of foes, while his sole sword
tried many a thrust in vain. O, what defence may Nisus bring? With what audacious arms his chosen comrade save? Shall he make bare his dying breast to all their swords, and run to honorable death that bloody way? he swung his spear with lifted arm, then looked to the still moon, in heaven, and thus implored: “O goddess, aid me in my evil case. O glory of the stars, Latona's child! O guardian of groves, if in my name my father Hyrtacus made offerings on burning altars, if my own right hand,
successful in the chase, ere hung its gift beneath thy dome or on thy sacred wall, grant me yon troop to scatter. Guide my spear along its path in air.” He spoke, and hurled with all his gathered strength the shaft of steel. the swift spear clove the shades of night, and struck full in the back of Sulmo, where it split, but tore through to his very heart. The breast poured forth life's glowing stream, and he, o'erthrown lay cold in death, while his huge, heaving sides gave lingering throes. The men about him stared this way and that. But Nisus, fiercer still,
poised level with his ear a second shaft, and, while the foeman paused, the whizzing spear straight through the brows of Tagus drove, and clung deep in the cloven brain. In frenzy rose Volscens, but nowhere could espy what hand the shaft had hurled, nor whither his wild rage could make reply. “But thou,” he cried, “shalt feed with thy hot blood my honor and revenge for both the slain.” Then with a sword unsheathed upon Euryalus he fell. Loud shrieked Nisus, of reason reft, who could not bear such horror, nor in sheltering gloom of night
longer abide: “'T is I, 't is I!” he said. look on the man who slew them! Draw on me your swords, Rutulians! The whole stratagem was mine, mine only, and the lad ye slay dared not, and could not. O, by Heaven above and by the all-beholding stars I swear, he did but love his hapless friend too well.” But while he spoke, the furious-thrusting sword had pierced the tender body, and run through the bosom white as snow. Euryalus sank prone in death; upon his goodly limbs the life-blood ran unstopped, and low inclined
the drooping head; as when some purpled flower, cut by the ploughshare, dies, or poppies proud with stem forlorn their ruined beauty bow before the pelting storm. Then Nisus flew straight at his foes; but in their throng would find Volscens alone, for none but Volscens stayed: they gathered thickly round and grappled him in shock of steel with steel. But on he plunged, swinging in ceaseless circles round his head his lightning-sword, and thrust it through the face of shrieking Volscens, with his own last breath striking his foeman down; then cast himself
upon his fallen comrade's breast; and there, stabbed through, found tranquil death and sure repose. Heroic pair and blest! If aught I sing have lasting music, no remotest age shall blot your names from honor's storied scroll: not while the altars of Aeneas' line shall crown the Capitol's unshaken hill, nor while the Roman Father's hand sustains its empire o'er the world. The Rutules seized the spoils of victory, and slowly to their camp, with wail and cry, bore Volscens' corse; and in the eamp they made
like wailing over Rhamnes lifeless found, o'er Numa and Serranus, and a throng of princes dead. The gazing people pressed around the slain, the dying, where the earth ran red with slaughter and full many a stream of trickling gore; nor did they fail to know Messapus' glittering helm, his baldric fair, recaptured now with lavish sweat and pain. Now, from Tithonus' saffron couch set free, Aurora over many a land outpoured the rising morn; the sun's advancing beam unveiled the world; and Turnus to his host
gave signal to stand forth, while he arrayed himself in glorious arms. Then every chief awoke his mail-clad company, and stirred their slumbering wrath with tidings from the foe. Tumultuously shouting, they impaled on lifted spears—O pitiable sight! — the heads of Nisus and Euryalus. Th' undaunted Trojans stood in battle-line along the wall to leftward (for the right the river-front defended) keeping guard on the broad moat; upon the ramparts high sad-eyed they stood, and shuddered as they saw
the hero-faces thrust aloft; too well their loyal grief the blood-stained features knew. On restless pinions to the trembling town had voiceful Rumor hied, and to the ears of that lone mother of Euryalus relentless flown. Through all her feeble frame the chilling sorrow sped. From both her hands dropped web and shuttle; she flew shrieking forth, ill-fated mother! and with tresses torn, to the wide ramparts and the battle-line ran frantic, heeding naught of men-at-arms, nor peril nor the rain of falling spears;
and thus with loud and lamentable cry filled all the air: “Is it in yonder guise, Euryalus, thou comest? Art thou he, last comfort of my life? O cruel one! Couldst thou desert me? When they thrust thee forth to death and danger, did they dare refuse a wretched mother's last embrace? But now — O woe is me!—upon this alien shore thou liest for a feast to Latin dogs and carrion birds. Nor did thy mother lead the mourners to thy grave, nor shut those eyes, nor wash the dreadful wounds, nor cover thee
with the fair shroud, which many a night and day I swiftly wove, and at my web and loom forgot my years and sorrows. Whither now to seek and follow thee? What spot of earth holds the torn body and the mangled limbs? Is all the gift thou bringest home, dear child, this? O, was this the prize for which I came o'er land and sea? O, stab me very deep, if ye have any pity; hurl on me your every spear, Rutulians; make of me your swords' first work. Or, Father of the gods! Show mercy, thou! and with thy lightning touch
this head accurst, and let it fall by thee down to the dark. For else what power is mine my tortured life to end?” Her agony smote on their listening souls; a wail of woe along the concourse ran. Stern men-at-arms felt valor for a moment sleep, and all their rage of battle fail. But while she stirred the passion of her grief, Ilioneus and young Iulus, weeping filial tears, bade Actor and Idaeus, lifting her in both their reverent arms, to bear her home. But now the brazen trumpet's fearsome song
blares loud, and startled shouts of soldiery spread through the roaring sky. The Volscian band press to the siege, and, locking shield with shield, fill the great trenches, tear the palisades, or seek approach by ladders up the walls, where'er the line of the defenders thins, and light through their black circle shines. The Trojans pour promiscuous missiles down, and push out hard with heavy poles—so well have they been schooled to fight against long sieges. They fling down a crushing weight of rocks, in hope to break th' assailing line, where roofed in serried shields
the foe each charge repels. But not for long the siegers stand; along their dense array the crafty Teucrians down the rampart roll a boulder like a hill-top, laying low the Rutule troop and crashing through their shields. Nor may the bold Rutulian longer hope to keep in cover, but essays to storm only with far-flung shafts the bastion strong. Here grim Mezentius, terrible to see, waved an Etrurian pine, and made his war with smoking firebrands; there, in equal rage, Messapus, the steed-tamer, Neptune's son,
ripped down the palisade, and at the breach strung a steep path of ladders up the wall. Aid, O Calliope, the martial song! Tell me what carnage and how many deaths the sword of Turnus wrought: what peer in arms each hero to the world of ghosts sent down. Unroll the war's great book before these eyes. A tower was there, well-placed and looming large, with many a lofty bridge, which desperately th' Italians strove to storm, and strangely plied besieging enginery to cast it down: the Trojans hurled back stones, or, standing close,
flung through the loopholes a swift shower of spears. But Turnus launched a firebrand, and pierced the wooden wall with flame, which in the wind leaped larger, and devoured from floor to floor, burning each beam away. The trembling guards sought flight in vain; and while they crowded close into the side unkindled yet, the tower bowed its whole weight and fell, with sudden crash that thundered through the sky. Along the ground half dead the warriors fell (the crushing mass piled over them) by their own pointed spears pierced to the heart, or wounded mortally
by cruel splinters of the wreck. Two men, Helenor one, and Lyeus at his side, alone get free. Helenor of the twain was a mere youth; the slave Lycymnia bore him in secret to the Lydian King, and, arming him by stealth, had sent away to serve the Trojan cause. One naked sword for arms had he, and on his virgin shield no blazon of renown; but when he saw the hosts of Turnus front him, and the lines this way and that of Latins closing round, — as a fierce, forest-creature, brought to bay
in circling pack of huntsmen, shows its teeth against the naked spears, and scorning death leaps upward on the javelins,—even so, not loth to die, the youthful soldier flew straight at the centre of his foes, and where the shining swords looked thickest, there he sprung. But Lyeus, swifter-footed, forced his way past the opposing spears and made escape far as the ciity-wall, where he would fain clutch at the coping and climb up to clasp some friend above: but Turnus, spear in hand, had hotly followed, and exulting loud
thus taunted him, “Hadst thou the hope, rash fool, beyond this grasp to fly?” So, as he clung, he tore him down; and with him broke and fell a huge piece of the wall: not otherwise a frail hare, or a swan of snow-white wing, is clutched in eagle-talons, when the bird of Jove soars skyward with his prey; or tender lamb from bleating mother and the broken fold is stolen by the wolf of Mars. Wild shouts on every side resound. In closer siege the foe press on, and heap the trenches full, or hurl hot-flaming torches at the towers.
Ilioneus with mountain-mass of stone struck down Lucetius, as he crept with fire too near the city-gate. Emathion fell by Liger's hand, and Corynteus' death Asilas dealt: one threw the javelin well; th' insidious arrow was Asilas' skill. Ortygius was slain by Caeneus, then victorious Geneus fell by Turnus' ire. Then smote he Dioxippus, and laid low Itys and Promolus and Sagaris and Clonius, and from the lofty tower shot Idas down. The shaft of Capys pierced
Privernus, whom Themilla's javelin but now had lightly grazed, and he, too bold, casting his shield far from him, had outspread his left hand on the wound: then sudden flew the feathered arrow, and the hand lay pinned against his left side, while the fatal barb was buried in his breathing life. The son of Arcens now stood forth in glittering arms. His broidered cloak was red Iberian stain, and beautiful was he. Arcens his sire had sent him to the war; but he was bred in a Sicilian forest by a stream
to his nymph-mother dear, where rose the shrine of merciful Palicus, blest and fair. But, lo! Mezentius his spear laid by, and whirled three times about his head the thong of his loud sling: the leaden bullet clove the youth's mid-forehead, and his towering form fell prostrate its full length along the ground. 'T was then Ascanius first shot forth in war the arrow swift from which all creatures wild were wont to fly in fear: and he struck down with artful aim Numanus, sturdy foe, called Remulus, who lately was espoused
to Turnus' younger sister. He had stalked before the van, and made vociferous noise of truths and falsehoods foul and base, his heart puffed up with new-found greatness. Up and down he strode, and swelled his folly with loud words: “No shame have ye this second time to stay cooped close within a rampart's craven siege, O Phrygians twice-vanquished? Is a wall your sole defence from death? Are such the men who ask our maids in marriage? Say what god, what doting madness, rather, drove ye here to Italy? This way ye will not find
the sons of Atreus nor the trickster tongue of voluble Ulysses. Sturdy stock are we; our softest new-born babes we dip in chilling rivers, till they bear right well the current's bitter cold. Our slender lads hunt night and day and rove the woods at large, or for their merriment break stubborn steeds, or bend the horn-tipped bow. Our manly prime in willing labor lives, and is inured to poverty and scantness; we subdue our lands with rake and mattock, or in war bid strong-walled cities tremble. Our whole life
is spent in use of iron; and we goad the flanks of bullocks with a javelin's end. Nor doth old age, arriving late, impair our brawny vigor, nor corrupt the soul to frail decay. But over silvered brows we bind the helmet. Our unfailing joy is rapine, and to pile the plunder high. But ye! your gowns-are saffron needlework or Tyrian purple; ye love shameful ease, or dancing revelry. Your tunics fiow long-sleeved, and ye have soft caps ribbon-bound. Aye, Phrygian girls are ye, not Phrygian men!
Hence to your hill of Dindymus! Go hear the twy-mouthed piping ye have loved so long. The timbrel, hark! the Berecynthian flute calls you away, and Ida's goddess calls. Leave arms to men, true men! and quit the sword!” Of such loud insolence and words of shame Ascanius brooked no more, but laid a shaft athwart his bowstring, and with arms stretched wide took aim, first offering suppliant vow to Jove: “Almighty Jupiter, thy favor show to my bold deed! So to thy shrine I bear gifts year by year, and to thine altars lead
a bull with gilded brows, snow-white, and tall as his own dam, what time his youth begins to lower his horns and fling the sand in air.” The Father heard, and from a cloudless sky thundered to leftward, while the deadly bow resounded and the arrow's fearful song hissed from the string; it struck unswervingly the head of Remulus and clove its way deep in the hollows of his brow. “Begone! Proud mocker at the brave! Lo, this reply twice-vanquished Phrygians to Rutulia send.” Ascanius said no more. The Teucrians
with deep-voiced shout of joy applaud, and lift their exultation starward. Then from heaven the flowing-haired Apollo bent his gaze upon Ausonia's host, and cloud-enthroned looked downward o'er the city, speaking thus to fair Iulus in his victory: “Hail to thy maiden prowess, boy! This way the starward path to dwelling-place divine. O sired of gods and sire of gods to come, all future storms of war by Fate ordained shall into peace and lawful calm subside beneath the offspring of Assaracus.
No Trojan destinies thy glory bound.” So saying, from his far, ethereal seat he hied him down, and, cleaving the quick winds drew near Ascanius. He wore the guise of aged Butes, who erewhile had borne Anchises, armor and kept trusty guard before his threshold, but attended now Ascanius, by commandment of his sire. Clad in this graybeard's every aspect, moved apollo forth,—his very voice and hue, his hoary locks and grimly sounding shield, — and to the flushed Iulus spoke this word:
“Child of Aeneas, be content that now Numanus unavenged thine arrows feels. Such dawn of glory great Apollo's will concedes, nor envies thee the fatal shaft so like his own. But, tender youth, refrain hereafter from this war!” So said divine Apollo, who, while yet he spoke, put by his mortal aspect, and before their eyes melted to viewless air. The Teucrians knew the vocal god with armament divine of arrows; for his rattling quiver smote their senses as he fled. Obedient
to Phoebus' voice they held back from the fray Iulus' fury, and their eager souls faced the fresh fight and danger's darkest frown. From tower to tower along the bastioned wall their war-cry flew: they bend with busy hand the cruel bow, or swing the whirling thong of javelins. The earth on every side is strewn with spent shafts, the reverberant shield and hollow helmet ring with blows; the fight more fiercely swells; not less the bursting storm from watery Kid-stars in the western sky lashes the plain, or multitudinous hail
beats upon shallow seas, when angry Jove flings forth tempestuous and-boundless rain, and splits the bellied clouds in darkened air. The brothers Pandarus and Bitias, of whom Alcanor was the famous sire, on Ida born, and whom Iaera bred in sacred wood of Jove, an oread she, twin warriors, like their native hills and trees of stature proud, now burst those portals wide to them in ward consigned, and sword in hand challenge the foe to enter. Side by side, steel-clad, their tall heads in bright crested helms,
to left and right, like towers, the champions stand as when to skyward, by the gliding waves of gentle Athesis or Padus wide, a pair of oaks uprise, and lift in air their shaggy brows and nodding crests sublime. In burst the Rutules where the onward way seemed open wide; Quercens no tarrying knows, nor proud Aquiculus in well-wrought arms; Tmarus sweeps on impetuous, and the host of Haemon, child of Mars. Some routed fly; some lay their lives-down at the gate. Wild rage o'erflows each martial breast, and gathered fast
the Trojans rally to one point, and dare close conflict, or long sallies o'er the plain. To Turnus, who upon a distant field was storming with huge havoc, came the news that now his foe, before a gate thrown wide, was red with slaughter. His own fight he stays, and speeds him, by enormous rage thrust on, to those proud brethren at the Dardan wall. There first Antiphates, who made his war far in the van (a Theban captive's child to great Sarpedon out of wedlock born), he felled to earth with whirling javelin:
th' Italic shaft of cornel lightly flew along the yielding air, and through his throat pierced deep into the breast; a gaping wound gushed blood; the hot shaft to his bosom clung. Then Erymas and Merops his strong hand laid low: Aphidnus next, then came the turn of Bitias, fiery-hearted, furious-eyed: but not by javelin,—such cannot fall by flying javelin,—the ponderous beam of a phalaric spear, with mighty roar, like thunderbolt upon him fell; such shock neither the bull's-hides of his double shield
nor twofold corselet's golden scales could stay but all his towering frame in ruin fell. Earth groaned, and o'er him rang his ample shield. so crashes down from Baiae's storied shore a rock-built mole, whose mighty masonry, piled up with care, men cast into the sea; it trails its wreckage far, and fathoms down lies broken in the shallows, while the waves whirl every way, and showers of black sand are scattered on the air: with thunder-sound steep Prochyta is shaken, and that bed of cruel stone, Inarime, which lies
heaped o'er Typhoeus by revenge of Jove. Now to the Latins Mars, the lord of war, gave might and valor, and to their wild hearts his spur applied, but on the Teucrians breathed dark fear and flight. From every quarter came auxiliar hosts, where'er the conflict called, and in each bosom pulsed the god of war. When Pandarus now saw his brother's corse low Iying, and which way the chance and tide of battle ran, he violently moved the swinging hinges of the gate, and strained with both his shoulders broad. He shut outside
not few of his own people, left exposed in fiercest fight but others with himself he barred inside and saved them as they fled; nor noted, madman, how the Rutule King had burst in midmost of the line, and now stood prisoned in their wall, as if he were some monstrous tiger among helpless kine. His eyeballs strangely glared; his armor rang terrific, his tall crest shook o'er his brows blood-red, and lightnings glittered from his shield familiar loomed that countenance abhorred and frame gigantic on the shrinking eyes
of the Aeneadae. Then Pandarus sprang towering forth, all fever to revenge his brother's slaughter. “Not this way,” he cried “Amata's marriage-gift! No Ardea here mews Turnus in his fathers' halls. Behold thy foeman's castle! Thou art not allowed to take thy leave.” But Turnus looked his way, and smiled with heart unmoved. “Begin! if thou hast manhood in thee, and meet steel with steel! Go tell dead Priam thou discoverest here Achilles!” For reply, the champion tall hurled with his might and main along the air
his spear of knotted wood and bark untrimmed. But all it wounded was the passing wind, for Saturn's daughter turned its course awry, and deep in the great gate the spear-point drove. “Now from the stroke this right arm means for thee thou shalt not fly. Not such the sender of this weapon and this wound.” He said, and towered aloft to his full height; the lifted sword clove temples, brows, and beardless cheeks clean through with loudly ringing blow; the ground beneath shook with the giant's ponderous fall, and, lo, with nerveless limbs, and brains spilt o'er his shield,
dead on the earth he lay! in equal halves the sundered head from either shoulder swung. In horror and amaze the Trojans all dispersed and fled; had but the conqueror thought to break the barriers of the gates and call his followers through, that fatal day had seen an ending of the Teucrians and their war. But frenzied joy of slaughter urged him on, infuriate, to smite the scattering foe. First Phaleris he caught; then cut the knees of Gyges; both their spears he snatched away and hurled them at the rout; 't was Juno roused
his utmost might of rage. Now Halys fell, and Phegeus, whom he pierced right through the shield: next, at the walls and urging reckless war, Alcander, Halius, and Noemon gave their lives, and Prytanis went down. In vain Lynceus made stand and called his comrades brave: for Turnus from the right with waving sword caught at him and lopped off with one swift blow the head, which with its helmet rolled away. Next Amycus, destroyer of wild beasts, who knew full well to smear a crafty barb with venomed oil; young Clytius he slew,
son of the wind-god; then on Cretheus fell, a follower of the muses and their friend: Cretheus, whose every joy it was to sing, and fit his numbers to the chorded Iyre; steeds, wars, armed men were his perpetual song. At last the Teucrian chiefs had heard the tale of so much slaughter; and in council met are Mnestheus and Serestus bold, who see their comrades routed and the conquering foe within the gates. Cries Mnestheus, “Whither fly? What open way is yonder or what wall? Beyond these ramparts lost what stronger lie?
Shall one lone man here in your walls confined, make havoc unavenged and feed the grave with your best warriors? 0 cowards vile! For your sad country and her ancient gods and for renowned Aeneas, can ye feel no pity and no shame?” Enflamed to fight by words like these, they close the line, and stand in strong array. So Turnus for a space out of the battle step by step withdrew to make the river-bank his rearguard strong; whereat the Teucrians, shouting loud, swept on the fiercer, and in solid mass pressed round.
as when a troop of hunters with keen spears encircle a wild lion, who in fear, but glaring grim and furious, backward falls, valor and rage constrain him ne'er to cease fronting the foe; yet not for all his ire can he against such serried steel make way: so Turnus backward with a lingering step unwilling drew, and wrath his heart oterflowed. for twice already had he cloven a path into the foe's mid-press, and twice had driven their flying lines in panic through the town. But now the whole throng from the camp he sees
massed to the onset. Nor will Juno now dare give him vigor to withstand, for Jove had sent aerial Iris out of heaven with stern commandment to his sister-queen that Turnus from the Teucrian walls retire. Therefore the warrior's shield avails no more, nor his strong arm; but he is overthrown by general assault. Around his brows his smitten helmet rings; the ponderous mail cracks under falling stones; the haughty plumes are scattered from his head, nor can the boss of his stout shield endure; the Trojans hurl
redoubled rain of spears; and with them speeds Mnestheus like thunderbolt. The hero's flesh dissolves in sweat; no room to breathe has he; his limbs are spent and weary; his whole frame shakes with his gasping breath: then bounding fort with all his harness on, headlong he plunged into the flowing stream; its yellow tide embraced him as he fell, and gentle waves restored him smiling to his friends in arms, with all the gore and carnage washed away.
Book 10
Meanwhile Olympus, seat of sovereign sway, threw wide its portals, and in conclave fair the Sire of gods and King of all mankind summoned th' immortals to his starry court, whence, high-enthroned, the spreading earth he views— and Teucria's camp and Latium's fierce array. Beneath the double-gated dome the gods were sitting; Jove himself the silence broke: “O people of Olympus, wherefore change your purpose and decree, with partial minds in mighty strife contending? I refused such clash of war 'twixt Italy and Troy.
Whence this forbidden feud? What fears seduced to battles and injurious arms either this folk or that? Th' appointed hour for war shall be hereafter—speed it not!— When cruel Carthage to the towers of Rome shall bring vast ruin, streaming fiercely down the opened Alp. Then hate with hate shall vie, and havoc have no bound. Till then, give o'er, and smile upon the concord I decree!” Thus briefly, Jove. But golden Venus made less brief reply. “O Father, who dost hold o'er Man and all things an immortal sway!
Of what high throne may gods the aid implore save thine? Behold of yonder Rutuli th' insulting scorn! Among them Turnus moves in chariot proud, and boasts triumphant war in mighty words. Nor do their walls defend my Teucrians now. But in their very gates, and on their mounded ramparts, in close fight they breast their foes and fill the moats with blood. Aeneas knows not, and is far away. Will ne'er the siege have done? A second time above Troy's rising walls the foe impends; another host is gathered, and once more
from his Aetolian Arpi wrathful speeds a Diomed. I doubt not that for me wounds are preparing. Yea, thy daughter dear awaits a mortal sword! If by thy will unblest and unapproved the Trojans came to Italy, for such rebellious crime give them their due, nor lend them succor, thou, with thy strong hand! But if they have obeyed unnumbered oracles from gods above and sacred shades below, who now has power to thwart thy bidding, or to weave anew the web of Fate? Why speak of ships consumed
along my hallowed Erycinian shore? Or of the Lord of Storms, whose furious blasts were summoned from Aeolia? Why tell of Iris sped from heaven? Now she moves the region of the shades (one kingdom yet from her attempt secure) and thence lets loose Alecto on the world above, who strides in frenzied wrath along th' Italian hills. No more my heart now cherishes its hope of domination, though in happier days such was thy promise. Let the victory fall to victors of thy choice! If nowhere lies
the land thy cruel Queen would deign accord unto the Teucrian people,—O my sire, I pray thee by yon smouldering wreck of Troy to let Ascanius from the clash of arms escape unscathed. Let my own offspring live! Yea, let Aeneas, tossed on seas unknown, find some chance way; let my right hand avail to shelter him and from this fatal war in safety bring. For Amathus is mine, mine are Cythera and the Paphian hills and temples in Idalium. Let him drop the sword, and there live out inglorious days.
By thy decree let Carthage overwhelm Ausonia's power; nor let defence be found to stay the Tyrian arms! What profits it that he escaped the wasting plague of war and fled Argolic fires? or that he knew so many perils of wide wilderness and waters rude? The Teucrians seek in vain new-born Troy in Latium. Better far crouched on their country's ashes to abide, and keep that spot of earth where once was Troy! Give back, O Father, I implore thee, give Xanthus and Simois back! Let Teucer's sons
unfold once more the tale of Ilium's woe!” Then sovereign Juno, flushed with solemn scorn, made answer. “Dost thou bid me here profane the silence of my heart, and gossip forth of secret griefs? What will of god or man impelled Aeneas on his path of war, or made him foeman of the Latin King? Fate brought him to Italia? Be it so! Cassandra's frenzy he obeyed. What voice — say, was it mine?—urged him to quit his camp, risk life in storms, or trust his war, his walls, to a boy-captain, or stir up to strife
Etruria's faithful, unoffending sons? What god, what pitiless behest of mine, impelled him to such harm? Who traces here the hand of Juno, or of Iris sped from heaven? Is it an ignoble stroke that Italy around the new-born Troy makes circling fire, and Turnus plants his heel on his hereditary earth, the son of old Pilumnus and the nymph divine, Venilia? For what offence would Troy bring sword and fire on Latium, or enslave lands of an alien name, and bear away
plunder and spoil? Why seek they marriages, and snatch from arms of love the plighted maids? An olive-branch is in their hands; their ships make menace of grim steel. Thy power one day ravished Aeneas from his Argive foes, and gave them shape of cloud and fleeting air to strike at for a man. Thou hast transformed his ships to daughters of the sea. What wrong if I, not less, have lent the Rutuli something of strength in war? Aeneas, then, is far away and knows not! Far away let him remain, not knowing! If thou sway'st
Cythera, Paphos, and Idalium, why rouse a city pregnant with loud wars, and fiery hearts provoke? That fading power of Phrygia, do I, forsooth, essay to ruin utterly? O, was it I exposed ill-fated Troy to Argive foe? For what offence in vast array of arms did Europe rise and Asia, for a rape their peace dissolving? Was it at my word th' adulterous Dardan shepherd came to storm the Spartan city? Did my hand supply his armament, or instigate a war
for Cupid's sake? Then was thy decent hour to tremble for thy children; now too late the folly of thy long lament to Heaven, and objurgation vain.” Such Juno's plea; the throng of gods with voices loud or low gave various reply: as gathering winds sing through the tree-tops in dark syllables, and fling faint murmur on the far-off sea, to tell some pilot of to-morrow's storm. Then Jupiter omnipotent, whose hands have governance supreme, began reply; deep silence at his word Olympus knew,
Earth's utmost cavern shook; the realms of light were silent; the mild zephyrs breathed no more, and perfect calm o'erspread the levelled sea. “Give ear, ye gods, and in your hearts record my mandate and decree. Fate yet allows no peace 'twixt Troy and Italy, nor bids your quarrel end. Therefore, what Chance this day to either foe shall bring, whatever hope either may cherish,—the Rutulian cause and Trojan have like favor in my eyes. The destinies of Italy constrain the siege; which for the fault of Troy fulfills
an oracle of woe. Yon Rutule host I scatter not. But of his own attempt let each the triumph and the burden bear; for Jove is over all an equal King. The Fates will find the way.” The god confirmed his sentence by his Stygian brother's wave, the shadowy flood and black, abysmal shore. He nodded; at the bending of his brow Olympus shook. It is the council's end. Now from the golden throne uprises Jove; the train of gods attend him to the doors. Meanwhile at every gate the Rutule foe
urges the slaughter on, and closes round the battlements with ring of flame. The host of Trojans, prisoned in the palisades, lies in strict siege and has no hope to fly. In wretched plight they man the turrets tall, to no avail, and with scant garrison the ramparts crown. In foremost line of guard are Asius Imbrasides, the twin Assaraci, and Hicetaon's son Thymoetes, and with Castor at his side the veteran Thymbris; then the brothers both of slain Sarpedon, and from Lycian steep
Clarus and Themon. With full-straining thews lifting a rock, which was of some huge hill no fragment small, Lyrnesian Acmon stood; nor less than Clytius his sire he seemed, nor Mnestheus his great brother. Some defend the wall with javelins; some hurl down stones or firebrands, or to the sounding string fit arrows keen. But lo! amid the throng, well worth to Venus her protecting care, the Dardan boy, whose princely head shone forth without a helm, like radiant jewel set in burnished gold for necklace or for crown;
or like immaculate ivory inclosed in boxwood or Orician terebinth; his tresses o'er his white neck rippled down, confined in circlet of soft twisted gold. Thee, too, the warrior nations gaze upon, high-nurtured Ismarus, inflicting wounds with shafts of venomed reed: Maeonia's vale thy cradle was, where o'er the fruitful fields well-tilled and rich, Pactolus pours his gold. Mnestheus was there, who, for his late repulse of Turnus from the rampart, towered forth in glory eminent; there Capys stood,
whose name the Capuan citadel shall bear. While these in many a shock of grievous war hotly contend, Aeneas cleaves his way at midnight through the waters. He had fared from old Evander to th' Etruscan folk, addressed their King, and to him told the tale of his own race and name, his suit, his powers; of what allies Mezentius had embraced, and Turnus' lawless rage. He bids him know how mutable is man, and warning gives, with supplication joined. Without delay Tarchon made amity and sacred league,
uniting with his cause. The Lydian tribe, now destined from its tyrant to be free, embarked, obedient to the gods, and gave allegiance to the foreign King. The ship Aeneas rode moved foremost in the line: its beak a pair of Phrygian lions bore; above them Ida rose, an emblem dear to exiled Trojans. On his Iofty seat was great Aeneas, pondering the events of changeful war; and clinging to his side the youthful Pallas fain would learn the lore of stars, the highway of dark night, and asks
the story of his toils on land and sea. Now open Helicon and move my song, ye goddesses, to tell what host in arms followed Aeneas from the Tuscan shore, and manned his ships and traveiled o'er the sea! First Massicus his brazen Tigress rode, cleaving the brine; a thousand warriors were with him out of Clusium's walls, or from the citadel of Coste, who for arms had arrows, quivers from the shoulder slung, and deadly bows. Grim Abas near him sailed; his whole band wore well-blazoned mail; his ship
displayed the form of Phoebus, all of gold: to him had Populonia consigned (His mother-city, she) six hundred youth well-proven in war; three hundred Elba gave, an island rich in unexhausted ores of iron, like the Chalybes. Next came Asilas, who betwixt the gods and men interprets messages and reads clear signs in victims' entrails, or the stars of heaven, or bird-talk, or the monitory flames of lightning: he commands a thousand men close lined, with bristling spears, of Pisa all,
that Tuscan city of Alpheus sprung. Then Astur followed, a bold horseman he, Astur in gorgeous arms, himself most fair: three hundred are his men, one martial mind uniting all: in Caere they were bred and Minio's plain, and by the ancient towers of Pyrgo or Gravisca's storm-swept hill. Nor thy renown may I forget, brave chief of the Ligurians, Cinyrus; nor thine, Cupavo, with few followers, thy crest the tall swan-wings, of love unblest the sign and of a father fair: for legends tell
that Cycnus, for his Phaethon so dear lamenting loud beneath the poplar shade of the changed sisters, made a mournful song to soothe his grief and passion: but erewhile, in his old age, there clothed him as he sang soft snow-white plumes, and spurning earth he soared on high, and sped in music through the stars. His son with bands of youthful peers urged on a galley with a Centaur for its prow, which loomed high o'er the waves, and seemed to hurl a huge stone at the water, as the keel ploughed through the deep. Next Ocnus summoned forth
a war-host from his native shores, the son of Tiber, Tuscan river, and the nymph Manto, a prophetess: he gave good walls, O Mantua, and his mother's name, to thee,— to Mantua so rich in noble sires, but of a blood diverse, a triple breed, four stems in each; and over all enthroned she rules her tribes: her strength is Tuscan born. Hate of Mezentius armed against his name five hundred men: upon their hostile prow was Mincius in a cloak of silvery sedge,— Lake Benacus the river's source and sire.
Last good Aulestes smites the depths below, with forest of a hundred oars: the flood like flowing marble foams; his Triton prow threatens the blue waves with a trumpet-shell; far as the hairy flanks its form is man, but ends in fish below—the parting waves beneath the half-brute bosom break in foam. Such chosen chiefs in thirty galleys ploughed the salt-wave, bringing help to Trojan arms. Day now had left the sky. The moon benign had driven her night-wandering chariot to the mid-arch of heaven. Aeneas sate,
for thought and care allowed him no repose, holding the helm and tending his own sails. but, as he sped, behold, the beauteous train, lately his own, of nymphs, anon transformed by kind Cybebe to sea-ruling powers. In even ranks they swam the cloven wave,— nymphs now, but once as brazen galleys moored along the sandy shore. With joy they knew their King from far, and with attending train around him drew. Cymodocea then, best skilled in mortal speech, sped close behind, with her right hand upon the stern, uprose
breast-high, and with her left hand deeply plied the silent stream, as to the wondering King she called: “So late on watch, O son of Heaven, Aeneas? Slack thy sail, but still watch on! We were the pine-trees on the holy top of Ida's mountain. Sea-nymphs now are we, and thine own fleet. When, as we fled, the flames rained o'er us from the false Rutulian's hand 't was all unwillingly we cast away thy serviceable chains: and now once more we follow thee across the sea. These forms our pitying mother bade us take, with power
to haunt immortally the moving sea. Lo, thy Ascanius lies close besieged in moated walls, assailed by threatening arms and Latium's front of war. Arcadia, her horsemen with the bold Etruscan joined, stands at the place appointed. Turnus means, with troop opposing, their advance to bar and hold them from the camp. Arouse thee, then, and with the rising beams of dawn call forth thy captains and their followers. Take that shield victorious, which for thee the Lord of Fire forged for a gift and rimmed about with gold.
To-morrow's light—deem not my words be vain!— shall shine on huge heaps of Rutulia's dead.” So saying, she pushed with her right hand the stern with skilful thrust, and vanished. The ship sped swift as a spear, or as an arrow flies no whit behind the wind: and all the fleet quickened its course. Anchises' princely son, dumb and bewildered stood, but took good heart at such an omen fair. Then in few words with eyes upturned to heaven he made his prayer: “Mother of gods, O Ida's Queen benign, who Iovest Dindymus and towns with towers,
and lion-yokes obedient to thy rein, be thou my guide in battle, and fulfil thine augury divine. In Phrygia's cause be present evermore with favoring power!” He spoke no more. For now the wheels of day had sped full circle into perfect light, the dark expelling. Then, for his first care, he bade his captains heed the signal given, equip their souls for war, and wait in arms the coming fray. Now holds he full in view his Trojans and their fortress, as he stands upon his towering ship. With his left hand
he lifts his radiant shield; then from the wall the Dardan warriors send a battle-cry that echoes to the stars, as kindling hope their rage renews. A flight of spears they hurl: 't was like the cranes of Strymon, through dark clouds each other calling, when they cleave the skies vociferous, outwinging as they fly the swift south winds—Ioud music them pursues. Amazement on Ausonia's captains fell and Turnus, as they gazed. But soon they saw ships pointing shoreward and the watery plain all stirring with a fleet. Aeneas' helm
uplifted its bright peak,—like streaming flame the crimson crest; his shield of orbed gold poured forth prodigious fire: it seemed as when in cloudless night a comet's blood-red beam makes mournful splendor, or the Dog-star glows, which rises to bring drought and pestilence to hapless men, and with ill-omened ray saddens the sky. But Turnus, undismayed, trusted not less to hurl th' invaders back and hold the shore against them. “Look!” he cried, your prayer is come to pass,—that sword in hand ye now may shatter them. The might of Mars
is in a true man's blow. Remember well each man his home and wife! Now call to mind the glory and great deeds of all your sires! Charge to yon river-bank, while yet they take with weak and fearful steps their shoreward way! Fortune will help the brave.” With words like these, he chose, well-weighing, who should lead the charge, who at the leaguered walls the fight sustain. Aeneas straightway from his lofty ships lets down his troop by bridges. Some await the ebbing of slack seas, and boldly leap into the shallows; others ply the oar.
Tarchon a beach discovers, where the sands sing not, nor waves with broken murmur fall, but full and silent swells the gentle sea. Steering in haste that way, he called his crews: “Now bend to your stout oars, my chosen brave. Lift each ship forward, till her beak shall cleave yon hostile shore; and let her keel's full weight the furrow drive. I care not if we break our ship's side in so sure an anchorage, if once we land.” While Tarchon urged them thus, the crews bent all together to their blades and sped their foaming barks to Latium's plain,
till each beak gripped the sand and every keel lay on dry land unscathed:—all save thine own, O Tarchon! dashed upon a sand-bar, she! Long poised upon the cruel ridge she hung, tilted this way or that and beat the waves, then split, and emptied forth upon the tide her warriors; and now the drifting wreck of shattered oars and thwarts entangles them, or ebb of swirling waters sucks them down. Turnus no lingering knows, but fiercely hurls his whole line on the Teucrians, and makes stand along the shore. Now peals the trumpet's call.
Aeneas in the van led on his troop against the rustic foe, bright augury for opening war, and laid the Latins low, slaughtering Theron, a huge chief who dared offer Aeneas battle; through the scales of brazen mail and corselet stiff with gold the sword drove deep, and gored the gaping side. Then smote he Lichas, from his mother's womb ripped in her dying hour, and unto thee, O Phoebus, vowed, because his infant days escaped the fatal steel. Hard by him fell stout Cisseus and gigantic Gyas; these
to death were hurled, while with their knotted clubs they slew opposing hosts; but naught availed Herculean weapons, nor their mighty hands, or that Melampus was their sire, a peer of Hercules, what time in heavy toils through earth he roved. See next how Pharon boasts! But while he vainly raves, the whirling spear smites full on his loud mouth. And also thou, Cydon, wast by the Trojan stroke o'erthrown, while following in ill-omened haste the steps of Clytius, thy last joy, whose round cheek wore its youthful golden down: soon hadst thou lain
in death, unheeding of thy fancies fond which ever turned to youth;—but now arose the troop of all thy brothers, Phorcus' sons, a close array of seven, and seven spears they hurled: some from Aeneas' helm or shield glanced off in vain; some Venus' kindly power, just as they touched his body, turned away. Aeneas then to true Achates cried: “Bring on my spears: not one shall fruitless fly against yon Rutules, even as they pierced the breasts of Greeks upon the Ilian plain.” Then one great shaft he seized and threw; it sped
straight into Maeon's brazen shield, and clove his mail-clad heart. Impetuous to his aid brother Alcanor came, and lifted up with strong right hand his brother as he fell: but through his arm a second skilful shaft made bloody way, and by the sinews held the lifeless right hand from the shoulder swung. Then from his brother's body Numitor the weapon plucked and hurled it, furious, upon Aeneas; but it could not strike the hero's self, and grazed along the thigh of great Achates. Next into the fight
Clausus of Cures came, in youthful bloom exulting, and with far-thrown javelin struck Dryops at the chin, and took away from the gashed, shrieking throat both life and voice; the warrior's fallen forehead smote the dust; his lips poured forth thick blood. There also fell three Thracians, odspring of the lordly stem of Boreas, and three of Idas' sons from Ismara, by various doom struck down. Halaesus here his wild Auruncans brings; and flying to the fight comes Neptune's son, Messapus, famous horseman. On both sides
each charges on the foe. Ausonia's strand is one wide strife. As when o'er leagues of air the envious winds give battle to their peers, well-matched in rage and power; and neither they nor clouds above, nor plunging seas below will end the doubtful war, but each withstands the onset of the whole—in such wild way the line of Trojans on the Latian line hurls itself, limb on limb and man on man. But at a distance where the river's flood had scattered rolling boulders and torn trees uprooted from the shore, young Pallas spied
th' Arcadian band, unused to fight on foot, in full retreat, the Latins following close— who also for the roughness of the ground were all unmounted: he (the last resource of men in straits) to wild entreaty turned and taunts, enkindling their faint hearts anew: “Whither, my men! O, by your own brave deeds, O, by our lord Evander's happy wars, the proud hopes I had to make my name a rival glory,—think not ye can fly! Your swords alone can carve ye the safe way straight through your foes. Where yonder warrior-throng
is fiercest, thickest, there and only there your Country's honor calls for men like you, and for your captain Pallas. Nay, no gods against us fight; we are but mortal men pressed by a mortal foe. Not more than ours the number of their lives or swords. Behold, the barrier of yonder spreading sea emprisons us, and for a craven flight yon lands are all too small. Ha! Shall we steer across the sea to Troy?” He said, and sprang full in the centre of his gathered foes. First in his path was Lagus, thither led
by evil stars; whom, as he tried to lift a heavy stone, the shaft of Pallas pierced where ribs and spine divide: backward he drew the clinging spear; But Hisbo from above surprised him not, though meaning it; for while (In anger blind for friend unpitying slain) at Pallas' face he flew:—he, standing firm, plunged deep into that swelling breast the sword. Then Sthenius he slew; and next Anchemolus of Rhoetus' ancient line, who dared defile his step-dame's bridal bed. And also ye, fair Thymber and Larides, Daucus' twins,
fell on that Rutule field; so like were ye, your own kin scarce discerned, and parents proud smiled at the dear deceit; but now in death cruel unlikeness Pallas wrought; thy head fell, hapless Thymber, by Evander's sword; and thy right hand, Larides, shorn away, seemed feeling for its Iord; the fingers cold clutched, trembling, at the sword. Now all the troop of Arcady, their chief's great action seen, and by his warning roused, made at their foes, spurred on by grief and shame. Next Pallas pierced the flying Rhoetus in his car; this gained
for Ilus respite and delay, for him the stout spear aimed at; but its flight was stopped by Rhoetus, as in swift retreat he rode, by the two high-born brothers close pursued, Teuthras and Tyres: from his car he rolled, making deep furrows with his lifeless heels along the Rutule plain. Oft when the winds of summer, long awaited, rise and blow, a shepherd fires the forest, and the blaze devours the dense grove, while o'er the fields, in that one moment, swift and sudden spread grim Vulcan's serried flames; from some high seat
on distant hill, the shepherd peering down sees, glad at heart, his own victorious fires: so now fierce valor spreads, uniting all in one confederate rage, 'neath Pallas' eyes. But the fierce warrior Halaesus next led on the charge, behind his skilful shield close-crouching. Ladon and Demodocus and Pheres he struck down; his glittering blade cut Strymon's hand, which to his neck was raised, sheer off; with one great stone he crushed the brows of Thoas, scattering wide the broken skull, bones, brains, and gore. Halaesus' prophet-sire,
foreseeing doom, had hid him in dark groves; but when the old man's fading eyes declined in death, the hand of Fate reached forth and doomed the young life to Evander's sword; him now Pallas assailed, first offering this prayer: “O Father Tiber, give my poising shaft through stout Halaesus' heart its lucky way! The spoil and trophy of the hero slain on thine own oak shall hang.” The god received the vow, and while Halaesus held his shield over Imaon, his ill-fated breast lay naked to th' Arcadian's hungry spear.
But Lausus, seeing such a hero slain, bade his troop have no fear, for he himself was no small strength in war; and first he slew Abas, who fought hard, and had ever seemed himself the sticking-point and tug of war. Down went Arcadia's warriors, and slain etruscans fell, with many a Trojan brave the Greek had spared. Troop charges upon troop well-matched in might, with chiefs of like renown; the last rank crowds the first;—so fierce the press scarce hand or sword can stir. Here Pallas stands, and pushes back the foe; before him looms
Lausus, his youthful peer, conspicuous both in beauty; but no star will them restore to home and native land. Yet would the King of high Olympus suffer not the pair to close in battle, but each hero found a later doom at hands of mightier foes. Now Turnus' goddess-sister bids him haste to Lausus' help. So he, in wheeling car, cut through the lines; and when his friends he saw, “Let the fight stop! “ he cried, “for none but I may strike at Pallas; unto me alone the prize of Pallas falls. I would his sire
stood by to see.” He spake: his troop withdrew a fitting space. But as they made him room, the young prince, wondering at the scornful words, looked upon Turnus, glancing up and down that giant frame, and with fierce-frowning brows scanned him from far, hurling defiant words in answer to the King's. “My honor now shall have the royal trophy of this war, or glorious death. For either fortune fair my sire is ready. Threaten me no more!” So saying, to the midmost space he strode, and in Arcadian hearts the blood stood still.
Swift from his chariot Turnus leaped, and ran to closer fight. As when some lion sees from his far mountain-lair a raging bull that sniffs the battle from the grassy field, and down the steep he flies—such picture showed grim Turnus as he came. But when he seemed within a spear's cast, Pallas opened fight, expecting Fortune's favor to the brave in such unequal match; and thus he prayed: “O, by my hospitable father's roof, where thou didst enter as a stranger-guest, hear me, Alcides, and give aid divine
to this great deed. Let Turnus see these hands strip from his half-dead breast the bloody spoil! and let his eyes in death endure to see his conqueror!” Alcides heard the youth: but prisoned in his heart a deep-drawn sigh, and shed vain tears; for Jove, the King and Sire, . spoke with benignant accents to his son: “To each his day is given. Beyond recall man's little time runs by: but to prolong life's glory by great deeds is virtue's power. Beneath the lofty walls of fallen Troy fell many a son of Heaven. Yea, there was slain
Sarpedon, my own offspring. Turnus too is summoned to his doom, and nears the bounds of his appointed span.” So speaking, Jove turned from Rutulia's war his eyes away. But Pallas hurled his lance with might and main, and from its hollow scabbard flashed his sword. The flying shaft touched where the plated steel over the shoulders rose, and worked its way through the shield's rim—then falling, glanced aside from Turnus' giant body. Turnus then poised, without haste, his iron-pointed spear, and, launching it on Pallas, cried, “Look now
will not this shaft a good bit deeper drive?” He said: and through the mid-boss of the shield, steel scales and brass with bull's-hide folded round, the quivering spear-point crashed resistlessly, and through the corselet's broken barrier pierced Pallas' heart. The youth plucked out in vain the hot shaft from the wound; his life and blood together ebbed away, as sinking prone on his rent side he fell; above him rang his armor; and from lips with blood defiled he breathed his last upon his foeman's ground. Over him Turnus stood: “Arcadians all,”
He cried, “take tidings of this feat of arms to King Evander. With a warrior's wage his Pallas I restore, and freely grant what glory in a hero's tomb may lie, or comfort in a grave. They dearly pay who bid Aeneas welcome at their board.” So saying, with his left foot he held down the lifeless form, and raised the heavy weight of graven belt, which pictured forth that crime of youthful company by treason slain, all on their wedding night, in bridal bowers to horrid murder given,—which Clonus, son
of Eurytus, had wrought in lavish gold; this Turnus in his triumph bore away, exulting in the spoil. O heart of man, not knowing doom, nor of events to be! Nor, being lifted up, to keep thy bounds in prosperous days! To Turnus comes the hour when he would fain a prince's ransom give had Pallas passed unscathed, and will bewail cuch spoil of victory. With weeping now and lamentations Ioud his comrades lay young Pallas on his shield, and thronging close carry him homeward with a mournful song:
alas! the sorrow and the glorious gain thy sire shall have in thee. For one brief day bore thee to battle and now bears away; yet leavest thou full tale of foemen slain. No doubtful rumor to Aeneas breaks the direful news, but a sure messenger tells him his followers' peril, and implores prompt help for routed Troy. His ready sword reaped down the nearest foes, and through their line clove furious path and broad; the valiant blade through oft-repeated bloodshed groped its way, proud Turnus, unto thee! His heart beholds
Pallas and Sire Evander, their kind board in welcome spread, their friendly league of peace proffered and sealed with him, the stranger-guest. So Sulmo's sons, four warriors, and four of Ufens sprung, he took alive—to slay as victims to the shades, and pour a stream of captives' blood upon a flaming pyre. Next from afar his hostile shaft he threw at Mago, who with wary motion bowed beneath the quivering weapon, as it sped clean over him; then at Aeneas' knees he crouched and clung with supplicating cry:
“O, by thy father's spirit, by thy hope in young Iulus, I implore thee, spare for son and father's sake this life of mine. A lofty house have I, where safely hid are stores of graven silver and good weight of wrought and unwrought gold. The fate of war hangs not on me; nor can one little life thy victory decide.” In answer spoke Aeneas: “Hoard the silver and the gold for thy own sons. Such bartering in war finished with Turnus, when fair Pallas fell. Thus bids Anchises' shade, Iulus—thus!”
He spoke: and, grasping with his mighty left the helmet of the vainly suppliant foe, bent back the throat and drove hilt-deep his sword. A little space removed, Haemonides, priest of Phoebus and pale Trivia, stood, whose ribboned brows a sacred fillet bound: in shining vesture he, and glittering arms. Him too the Trojan met, repelled, and towered above the fallen form, o'ermantling it in mortal shade; Serestus bore away those famous arms a trophy vowed to thee, Gradivus, Iord of war! Soon to fresh fight
came Caeculus, a child of Vulcan's line, and Umbro on the Marsic mountains bred: these met the Trojan's wrath. His sword shore off Anxur's left hand, and the whole orbed shield dropped earthward at the stroke: though Anxur's tongue had boasted mighty things, as if great words would make him strong, and lifting his proud heart as high as heaven, had hoped perchance to see gray hairs and length of days. Then Tarquitus strode forth, exulting in his burnished arms (Him Dryope, the nymph, to Faunus bore), and dared oppose Aeneas' rage. But he
drew back his lance and, charging, crushed at once corselet and ponderous shield; then off he struck the supplicating head, which seemed in vain preparing speech; while o'er the reeking corpse the victor stood, and thrusting it away spoke thus with wrathful soul: “Now lie thou there, thou fearsome sight! No noble mother's hand shall hide thee in the ground, or give those limbs to their ancestral tomb. Thou shalt be left to birds of ravin; or go drifting far along yon river to engulfing seas, where starving fishes on those wounds shall feed.”
Antceus next and Lucas he pursues, though all in Turnus' van; and Numa bold and Camers tawny-tressed, the son and heir of Volscens the stout-hearted, whose domain surpassed the richest of Ausonia's lords, when over hushed Amyclae he was king. Like old Aegaeon of the hundred arms, the hundred-handed, from whose mouths and breasts blazed fifty fiery blasts, as he made war with fifty sounding shields and fifty swords against Jove's thunder;—so Aeneas raged victorious o'er the field, when once his steel
warmed to its work. But lo, he turns him now where come Niphaeus' bold-advancing wheels and coursers four, who, when at furious speed they faced his giant stride and dreadful cry, upreared in panic, and reversing spilled their captain to the ground, and bore away the chariot to the river's distant shore. Meanwhile, with two white coursers to their car, the brothers Lucagus and Liger drove into the heart of battle: Liger kept with skilful hand the manage of the steeds; bold Lucagus swung wide his naked sword.
Aeneas, by their wrathful brows defied, brooked not the sight, but to the onset flew, huge-looming, with adverse and threatening spear. Cried Liger, “Not Achilles' chariot, ours! Nor team of Diomed on Phrygia's plain! The last of life and strife shall be thy meed upon this very ground.” Such raving word flowed loud from Liger's lip: not with a word the Trojan hero answered him, but flung his whirling spear; and even as Lucagus leaned o'er the horses, goading them with steel, and, left foot forward, gathered all his strength
to strike—the spear crashed through the under rim of his resplendent shield and entered deep in the left groin; then from the chariot fallen, the youth rolled dying on the field, while thus pious Aeneas paid him taunting words: “O Lucagus, thy chariot did not yield because of horses slow to fly, or scared by shadows of a foe. It was thyself leaped o'er the wheel and fled.” So saying, he grasped the horses by the rein. The brother then, spilled also from the car, reached wildly forth his helpless hands: “O, by thy sacred head,
and by the parents who such greatness gave, good Trojan, let me live! Some pity show to prostrate me!” But ere he longer sued, Aeneas cried, “Not so thy language ran a moment gone! Die thou! Nor let this day brother from brother part!” Then where the life hides in the bosom, he thrust deep his sword. Thus o'er the field of war the Dardan King moved on, death-dealing: like a breaking flood or cloudy whirlwind seemed his wrath. Straightway the boy Ascanius from the ramparts came, his warriors with him; for the siege had failed.
Now Jupiter to Juno thus began: “O ever-cherished spouse and sister dear, surely 't is Venus—as thy mind misgave— whose favor props—O, what discernment thine! Yon Trojan power; not swift heroic hands, or souls of fury facing perilous war!” Juno made meek reply: “O noblest spouse! Why vex one sick at heart, who humbly fears thy stern command? If I could claim to-day what once I had, my proper right and due, love's induence, I should not plead in vain to thee, omnipotent, to give me power
to lead off Turnus from the fight unscathed, and save him at his father Daunus' prayer. Aye, let him die! And with his loyal blood the Teucrians' vengeance feed! Yet he derives from our Saturnian stem, by fourth remove sprung from Pilumnus. Oft his liberal hands have heaped unstinted offering at thy shrine.” Thus in few words th' Olympian King replied: “If for the fated youth thy prayer implores delay and respite of impending doom, if but so far thou bidst me interpose,— go—favor Turnus' flight, and keep him safe
in this imperilled hour; I may concede such boon. But if thy pleading words intend some larger grace, and fain would touch or change the issue of the war, then art thou fed on expectation vain.” With weeping eyes Juno made answer: “Can it be thy mind gives what thy words refuse, and Turnus' life, if rescued, may endure? Yet afterward some cruel close his guiltless day shall see— or far from truth I stray! O, that I were the dupe of empty fears! and O, that thou wouldst but refashion to some happier end
the things by thee begun—for thou hast power!” She ceased; and swiftly from the peak of heaven moved earthward, trailing cloud-wrack through the air, and girdled with the storm. She took her way to where Troy's warriors faced Laurentum's line. There of a hollow cloud the goddess framed a shape of airy, unsubstantial shade, Aeneas' image, wonderful to see, and decked it with a Dardan lance and shield, a crested helmet on the godlike head; and windy words she gave of soulless sound, and motion like a stride—such shapes, they say,
the hovering phantoms of the dead put on, or empty dreams which cheat our slumbering eyes. Forth to the front of battle this vain shade stalked insolent, and with its voice and spear challenged the warrior. At it Turnus flew, and hurled a hissing spear with distant aim; the thing wheeled round and fled. The foe forthwith, thinking Aeneas vanquished, with blind scorn flattered his own false hope: “Where wilt thou fly, Aeneas? Wilt thou break a bridegroom's word? This sword will give thee title to some land thou hast sailed far to find!” So clamoring loud
he followed, flashing far his naked sword; nor saw the light winds waft his dream away. By chance in covert of a lofty crag a ship stood fastened and at rest; her sides showed ready bridge and stairway; she had brought Osinius, king of Clusium. Thither came Aeneas' counterfeit of flight and fear, and dropped to darkness. Turnus, nothing loth, gave close chase, overleaping every bar, and scaling the high bridge; but scarce he reached the vessel's prow, when Juno cut her loose, the cables breaking, and along swift waves
pushed her to sea. Yet in that very hour Aeneas to the battle vainly called the vanished foe, and round his hard-fought path stretched many a hero dead. No longer now the mocking shadow sought to hide, but soared visibly upward and was Iost in cloud, while Turnus drifted o'er the waters wide before the wind. Bewildered and amazed he looked around him; little joy had he in his own safety, but upraised his hands in prayer to Heaven: “O Sire omnipotent! Didst thou condemn me to a shame like this?
Such retribution dire? Whither now? Whence came I here? What panic wafts away this Turnus—if 't is he? Shall I behold Laurentum's towers once more? But what of those my heroes yonder, who took oath to me, and whom—O sin and shame!—I have betrayed to horrible destruction? Even now I see them routed, and my ears receive their dying groans. What is this thing I do? Where will the yawning earth crack wide enough beneath my feet? Ye tempests, pity me! On rocks and reef—'t is Turnus' faithful prayer,
let this bark founder; fling it on the shoals of wreckful isles, where no Rutulian eye can follow me, or Rumor tell my shame.” With such wild words his soul tossed to and fro, not knowing if to hide his infamy with his own sword and madly drive its blade home to his heart, or cast him in the sea, and, swimming to the rounded shore, renew his battle with the Trojan foe. Three times each fatal course he tried; but Juno's power three times restrained, and with a pitying hand the warrior's purpose barred. So on he sped
o'er yielding waters and propitious tides, far as his father Daunus' ancient town. At Jove's command Mezentius, breathing rage, now takes the field and leads a strong assault against victorious Troy. The Tuscan ranks meet round him, and press hard on him alone, on him alone with vengeance multiplied their host of swords they draw. As some tall cliff, projecting to the sea, receives the rage of winds and waters, and untrembling bears vast, frowning enmity of seas and skies,— so he. First Dolichaon's son he slew,
Hebrus; then Latagus and Palmus, though they fled amain; he smote with mighty stone torn from the mountain, full upon the face of Latagus; and Palmus he let lie hamstrung and rolling helpless; he bestowed the arms on his son Lausus for a prize, another proud crest in his helm to wear; he laid the Phrygian Euanthus Iow; and Mimas, Paris' comrade, just his age,— born of Theano's womb to Amycus his sire, that night when royal Hecuba, teeming with firebrand, gave Paris birth:
one in the city of his fathers sleeps; and one, inglorious, on Laurentian strand. As when a wild boar, harried from the hills by teeth of dogs (one who for many a year was safe in pine-clad Vesulus, or roamed the meres of Tiber, feeding in the reeds) falls in the toils at last, and stands at bay, raging and bristling, and no hunter dares defy him or come near, but darts are hurled from far away, with cries unperilous: not otherwise, though righteous is their wrath against Mezentius, not a man so bold
as face him with drawn sword, but at long range they throw their shafts and with loud cries assail; he, all unterrified, makes frequent stand, gnashing his teeth, and shaking off their spears. From ancient Corythus had Acron come, a Greek, who left half-sung his wedding-song, and was an exile; him Mezentius saw among long lines of foes, with flaunting plumes and purple garments from his plighted spouse. Then as a starving lion when he prowls about high pasture-lands, urged on his way by maddening hunger (if perchance he see
a flying she-goat or tall-antlered stag) lifts up his shaggy mane, and gaping wide his monstrous jaws, springs at the creature's side, feeding foul-lipped, insatiable of gore: so through his gathered foes Mezentius flew at his prey. He stretched along the ground ill-fated Acron, who breathed life away, beating the dark dust with his heels, and bathed his broken weapons in his blood. Nor deigned Mezentius to strike Orodes down as he took flight, nor deal a wound unseen with far-thrown spear; but ran before his face,
fronting him man to man, nor would he win by sleight or trick, but by a mightier sword. Soon on the fallen foe he set his heel, and, pushing hard, with heel and spear, cried out: “Look ye, my men, where huge Orodes lies, himself a dangerous portion of this war!” With loyal, Ioud acclaim his peers reply; but thus the dying hero: “Victor mine, whoe'er thou art, I fall not unavenged! Thou shalt but triumph for a fleeting hour. Like doom for thee is written. Speedily thou shalt this dust inhabit, even as I!”
Mezentius answered him with wrathful smile: “Now die! What comes on me concerns alone the Sire of gods and Sovereign of mankind.” So saying, from the wounded breast he plucked his javelin: and on those eyes there fell inexorable rest and iron slumber, and in unending night their vision closed. Then Caedicus cut down Alcathous, Sacrator slew Hydaspes, Rapo smote Parthenius and Orses stout and strong; Messapus, good blade cut down Clonius and Ericetes, fierce Lycaon's child;
the one from an unbridled war-horse thrown, the other slain dismounted. Then rode forth Agis the Lycian, but bold Valerus, true to his valiant breeding, hurled him down; having slain Thronius, Salius was slain by skilled Nealces, of illustrious name for spear well cast and far-surprising bow. Thus Mars relentless holds in equal scale slaughters reciprocal and mutual woe; the victors and the vanquished kill or fall in equal measure; neither knows the way to yield or fly. Th' Olympians Iook down
out of Jove's house, and pity as they see the unavailing wrath of either foe, and burdens measureless on mortals laid. Lo! Venus here, Saturnian Juno yon, in anxious watch; while pale Tisiphone moves on infuriate through the battling lines. On strode Mezentius o'er the gory plain, and swollen with rage waved wide-his awful spear. Like tall Orion when on foot he goes trough the deep sea and lifts his shoulders high above the waves; or when he takes his path along the mountain-tops, and has for staff
an aged ash-tree, as he fixes firm his feet in earth and hides his brows in cloud;— so Ioomed Mezentius with his ponderous arms. To match him now, Aeneas, Iooking down the long array of war, came forth in arms to challenge and defy. But quailing not, a mass immovable, the other stood waiting his noble foe, and with a glance measured to cast his spear the space between. “May this right hand“, he said, “and this swift spear which here I poise, be favoring gods for me! The spoils from yonder robber's carcase stripped
I vow to hang on thee, my Lausus, thou shalt stand for trophy of Aeneas slain.” He said, and hurled from far the roaring spear, which from the shield glanced off, and speeding still smote famed Antores 'twixt the loin and side— antores, friend of Hercules, who came from Argos, and had joined Evander's cause, abiding in Italia. Lo, a wound meant for another pierced him, and he lay, ill-fated! Iooking upward to the light, and dreaming of dear Argos as he died. Then good Aeneas hurled his spear; it passed
through hollow orb of triple bronze, and through layers of flax and triple-twisted hides; then in the lower groin it lodged, but left its work undone. Aeneas, not ill-pleased to see the Tuscan wounded, swiftly drew the falchion from his thigh, and hotly pressed his startled foe. But Lausus at the sight groaned loud, so much he loved his father dear, and tears his cheek bedewed. O storied youth! If olden worth may win believing ear, let not my song now fail of thee to sing, thy noble deeds, thy doom of death and pain!
Mezentius, now encumbered and undone, fell backward, trailing from the broken shield his foeman's spear. His son leaped wildly forth to join the fray; and where Aeneas' hand lifted to strike, he faced the thrusting sword and gave the hero pause. His comrades raised applauding cries, as shielded by his son the father made retreat; their darts they hurl, and vex with flying spears the distant foe: Aeneas, wrathful, stands beneath his shield. As when the storm-clouds break in pelting hail, the swains and ploughmen from the furrows fly,
and every traveller cowers in sure defence of river-bank or lofty shelving crag, while far and wide it pours; and by and by, each, when the sun returns, his task pursues: so great Aeneas, by assault o'erwhelmed, endured the cloud of battle, till its rage thundered no more; then with a warning word to Lausus with upbraiding voice he called: “Why, O death-doomed, rush on to deeds too high for strength like thine. Thou art betrayed, rash boy, by thine own loyal heart!” But none the less the youth made mad defence; while fiercer burned
the Trojan's anger; and of Lausus' days the loom of Fate spun forth the last thin thread; for now Aeneas thrust his potent blade deep through the stripling's breast and out of sight; through the light shield it passed—a frail defence to threaten with!—and through the tunic fine his mother's hand had wrought with softest gold: blood filled his bosom, and on path of air down to the shades the mournful soul withdrew, its body quitting. As Anchises' son beheld the agonizing lips and brow so wondrous white in death, he groaned aloud
in pity, and reached o'er him his right hand, touched to the heart such likeness to behold of his own filial love. “Unhappy boy! What reward worthy of heroic deeds can I award thee now? Wear still those arms so proudly worn! And I will send thee home (Perhaps thou carest!) to the kindred shades and ashes of thy sires. But let it be some solace in thy pitiable doom that none but great Aeneas wrought thy fall.” Then to the stripling's tardy followers he sternly called, and lifted from the earth
with his own hand the fallen foe: dark blood defiled those princely tresses braided fair. Meanwhile Mezentius by the Tiber's wave with water staunched his wound, and propped his weight against a tree; upon its limbs above his brazen helmet hung, and on the sward his ponderous arms lay resting. Round him watched his chosen braves. He, gasping and in pain, clutched at his neck and let his flowing beard loose on his bosom fall; he questions oft of Lausus, and sends many a messenger to bid him back, and bear him the command
of his sore-grieving sire. But lo! his peers bore the dead Lausus back upon his shield, and wept to see so strong a hero quelled by stroke so strong. From long way off the sire, with soul prophetic of its woe, perceived what meant their wail and cry. On his gray hairs the dust he flung, and, stretching both his hands to heaven, he cast himself the corpse along. “O son,” he cried, “was life to me so sweet, that I to save myself surrendered o'er my own begotten to a foeman's steel? Saved by these gashes shall thy father be,
and living by thy death? O wretched me, how foul an end have I! Now is my wound deep! deep! 't was I, dear son, have stained thy name with infamy—to exile driven from sceptre and hereditary throne by general curse. Would that myself had borne my country's vengeance and my nation's hate! Would my own guilty life my debt had paid— yea, by a thousand deaths! But, see, I live! Not yet from human kind and light of day have I departed. But depart I will.” So saying, he raised him on his crippled thigh,
and though by reason of the grievous wound his forces ebbed, yet with unshaken mien he bade them lead his war-horse forth, his pride, his solace, which from every war victorious bore him home. The master then to the brave beast, which seemed to know his pain, spoke thus: “My Rhoebus, we have passed our days long time together, if long time there be for mortal creatures. Either on this day thou shalt his bloody spoils in triumph bear and that Aeneas' head,—and so shalt be avenger of my Lausus' woe; or else,
if I be vanquished, thou shalt sink and fall beside me. For, my bravest, thou wouldst spurn a stranger's will, and Teucrian lords to bear.” He spoke and, mounting to his back, disposed his limbs the wonted way and filled both hands with pointed javelins; a helm of brass with shaggy horse-hair crest gleamed o'er his brow. Swift to the front he rode: a mingled flood surged in his heart of sorrow, wrath, and shame; and thrice with loud voice on his foe he called. Aeneas heard and made exulting vow: “Now may the Father of the gods on high,
and great Apollo hear! Begin the fray!” He said, and moved forth with a threatening spear. The other cried: “Hast robbed me of my son, and now, implacable, wouldst fright me more? That way, that only, was it in thy power to cast me down. No fear of death I feel. Nor from thy gods themselves would I refrain. Give o'er! For fated and resolved to die I come thy way: but; bring thee as I pass these offerings.” With this he whirled a spear against his foe, and after it drove deep another and another, riding swift
in wide gyration round him. But the shield, the golden boss, broke not. Three times he rode in leftward circles, hurling spear on spear against th' unmoved Aeneas: and three times the Trojan hero in his brazen shield the sheaf of spears upbore. But such slow fight, such plucking of spent shafts from out his shield, the Trojan liked not, vexed and sorely tried in duel so ill-matched. With wrathful soul at length he strode forth, and between the brows of the wild war-horse planted his Iong spear. Up reared the creature, beating at the air
with quivering feet, then o'er his fallen lord entangling dropped, and prone above him lay, pinning with ponderous shoulder to the ground. The Trojans and the Latins rouse the skies with clamor Ioud. Aeneas hastening forth unsheathes his sword, and looming o'er him cries: “Where now is fierce Mezentius, and his soul's wild pulse of rage?” The Tuscan in reply with eyes uprolled, and gasping as he gave long looks at heaven, recalled his fading mind: “Why frown at me and fume, O bitterest foe? Why threaten death? To slay me is no sin.
Not to take quarter came I to this war, not truce with thee did my lost Lausus crave, yet this one boon I pray,—if mercy be for fallen foes: O, suffer me when dead in covering earth to hide! Full well I know what curses of my people ring me round. Defend me from that rage! I pray to be my son's companion in our common tomb.” He spoke: then offered with unshrinking eye his veined throat to the sword. O'er the bright mail his vital breath gushed forth in streaming gore.
Book 11
Up from the sea now soared the dawning day: Aeneas, though his sorrow bids him haste to burial of the slain, and his sad soul is clouded with the sight of death, fulfils, for reward to his gods, a conqueror's vow, at morning's earliest beam. A mighty oak shorn of its limbs he sets upon a hill and clothes it o'er with glittering arms, the spoil of King Mezentius, and a trophy proud to thee, great lord of war. The hero's plumes bedewed with blood are there, and splintered spears; there hangs the corselet, by the thrusting steel
twelve times gored through; upon the left he binds the brazen shield, and from the neck suspends the ivory-hilted sword. Aeneas thus, as crowding close his train of captains throng, addressed his followers: “Ye warriors mine, our largest work is done. Bid fear begone of what is left to do. Behold the spoils! Yon haughty King was firstfruits of our war. See this Mezentius my hands have made! Now to the Latin town and King we go. Arm you in soul! With heart of perfect hope prepare the war! So when the gods give sign
to open battle and lead forth our brave out of this stronghold, no bewilderment, nor tarrying, nor fearful, faltering mind shall slack our march. Meanwhile in earth we lay our comrades fallen; for no honor else in Acheron have they. Go forth,” said he, “bring gifts of honor and of last farewell to those high hearts by shedding of whose blood our country lives. To sad Evander's town bear Pallas first; who, though he did not fail of virtue's crown, was seized by doom unblest, and to the bitterness of death consigned.”
Weeping he spoke, and slowly backward drew to the tent-door, where by the breathless clay of Pallas stood Acoetes, aged man, once bearer of Evander's arms, but now under less happy omens set to guard his darling child. Around him is a throng of slaves, with all the Trojan multitude, and Ilian women, who the wonted way let sorrow's tresses loosely flow. When now Aeneas to the lofty doors drew near, all these from smitten bosoms raised to heaven a mighty moaning, till the King's abode
was loud with anguish. There Aeneas viewed the pillowed head of Pallas cold and pale, the smooth young breast that bore the gaping wound of that Ausonian spear, and weeping said: “Did Fortune's envy, smiling though she came, refuse me, hapless boy, that thou shouldst see my throne established, and victorious ride beside me to thy father's house? Not this my parting promise to thy King and sire, Evander, when with friendly, fond embrace to win imperial power he bade me go; yet warned me anxiously I must resist
bold warriors and a stubborn breed of foes. And haply even now he cheats his heart with expectation vain, and offers vows, heaping with gifts the altars of his gods. But we with unavailing honors bring this lifeless youth, who owes the gods of heaven no more of gift and vow. O ill-starred King! Soon shalt thou see thy son's unpitying doom! What a home-coming! This is glory's day so Iong awaited; this the solemn pledge I proudly gave. But fond Evander's eyes will find no shameful wounding on the slain,
nor for a son in coward safety kept wilt thou, the sire, crave death. But woe is me! How strong a bulwark in Ausonia falls! What loss is thine, Iulus!” Thus lamenting, he bids them lift the body to the bier, and sends a thousand heroes from his host to render the last tributes, and to share father's tears:—poor solace and too small for grief so great, but due that mournful sire. Some busy them to build of osiers fine the simple litter, twining sapling oaks with evergreen, till o'er death's Iofty bed
the branching shade extends. Upon it lay, as if on shepherd's couch, the youthful dead, like fairest flower by virgin fingers culled, frail violet or hyacinth forlorn, of color still undimmed and leaf unmarred; but from the breast of mother-earth no more its life doth feed. Then good Aeneas brought two broidered robes of scarlet and fine gold, which with the gladsome labor of her hands Sidonian Dido wrought him long ago, the thin-spun gold inweaving. One of these the sad prince o'er the youthful body threw
for parting gift; and with the other veiled those tresses from the fire; he heaped on high Laurentum's spoils of war, and bade to bring much tribute forth: horses and arms he gave, seized from the fallen enemy; with hands fettered behind them filed a captive train doomed to appease the shades, and with the flames to mix their flowing blood. He bade his chiefs set up the trunks of trees and clothe them well with captured arms, inscribing on each one some foeman's name. Then came Acoetes forth, a wretched, worn old man, who beat his breast
with tight-clenched hands, and tore his wrinkled face with ruthless fingers; oft he cast him down full length along the ground. Then lead they forth the blood-stained Rutule chariots of war; Aethon, the war-horse, of his harness bare, walks mournful by; big teardrops wet his cheek. Some bear the lance and helm; for all the rest victorious Turnus seized. Then filed along a mournful Teucrian cohort; next the host Etrurian and the men of Arcady with trailing arms reversed. Aeneas now, when the long company had passed him by,
spoke thus and groaned aloud: “Ourselves from hence are summoned by the same dread doom of war to other tears. Farewell forevermore! Heroic Pallas! be forever blest! I bid thee hail, farewell!” In silence then back to the stronghold's Iofty walls he moved. Now envoys from the Latin citadel came olive-crowned, to plead for clemency: would he not yield those bodies of the dead sword-scattered o'er the plain, and let them lie beneath an earth-built tomb? Who wages war upon the vanquished, the unbreathing slain?
To people once his hosts and kindred called, would he not mercy show? To such a prayer, deemed not unworthy, good Aeneas gave the boon, and this benignant answer made: “Ye Latins, what misfortune undeserved has snared you in so vast a war, that now you shun our friendship? Have you here implored peace for your dead, by chance of battle fallen? Pain would I grant it for the living too. I sailed not hither save by Heaven's decree, which called me to this land. I wage no war with you, the people; 't was your King refused
our proffered bond of peace, and gave his cause to Turnus' arms. More meet and just it were had Turnus met this death that makes you mourn. If he would end our quarrel sword in hand, thrusting us Teucrians forth, 't was honor's way to cross his blade with mine; that man to whom the gods, or his own valor, had decreed the longer life, had lived. But now depart! Beneath your lost friends light the funeral fires!” So spoke Aeneas; and with wonder mute all stood at gaze, each turning to behold his neighbor's face. Then Drances, full of years,
and ever armed with spite and slanderous word against young Turnus, made this answering plea: “O prince of mighty name, whose feats of arms are even mightier! Trojan hero, how shall my poor praise exalt thee to the skies? Is it thy rectitude or strenuous war most bids me wonder? We will bear thy word right gladly to the city of our sires; and there, if Fortune favor it, contrive a compact with the Latin King. Henceforth let Turnus find his own allies! Ourselves will much rejoice to see thy destined walls,
and our own shoulders will be proud to bear the stone for building Troy.” Such speech he made, and all the common voice consented loud. So twelve days' truce they swore, and safe from harm Latins and Teucrians unmolested roved together o'er the wooded hills. Now rang loud steel on ash-tree bole; enormous pines, once thrusting starward, to the earth they threw; and with industrious wedge asunder clove stout oak and odorous cedar, piling high harvest of ash-trees on the creaking wain. Now Rumor, herald of prodigious woe,
to King Evander hied, Evander's house and city filling, where, but late, her word had told in Latium Pallas' victory. th' Arcadians thronging to the city-gates bear funeral torches, the accustomed way; in lines of flame the long street flashes far, lighting the fields beyond. To meet them moves a Phrygian company, to join with theirs its lamentation loud. The Latin wives, soon as they saw them entering, aroused the whole sad city with shrill songs of woe. No hand could stay Evander. Forth he flew
into the midmost tumult, and fell prone on his dead Pallas, on the resting bier; he clung to the pale corse with tears, with groans, till anguish for a space his lips unsealed: “Not this thy promise, Pallas, to thy sire, to walk not rashly in the war-god's way. I knew too well how honor's morning-star, and sweet, foretasted glory tempt and woo in a first battle. O first-fruit forlorn of youth so fair! O prelude pitiless of war approaching! O my vows and prayers, which not one god would hear! My blessed wife,
how happy was the death that spared thee not to taste this bitterness! But I, the while, by living longer lived to meet my doom,— a father sole-surviving. Would I myself had perished by the Rutule's cruel spear, the Trojan's cause espousing! This breath of life how gladly had I given! And O, that now yon black solemnity were bearing home myself, not Pallas, dead! Yet blame I not, O Teucrians, the hallowed pact we made, nor hospitable bond and clasp of hands. This doom ye bring me was writ long ago,
for my old age. And though my child is fallen untimely, I take comfort that he fell where thousands of the Volscians slaughtered lie, and into Latium led the Teucrian arms. What brighter glory could I crave in death for thee, my Pallas, than Aeneas brings, and Phrygian princes, and Etrurian lords with all Etruria's legions? Lo, they bear yon glittering spoils of victims of thy sword! Thou, Turnus, too, wert now an effigy in giant armor clad, if but his years and strength full ripe had been fair match for thine!
But now my woes detain the Trojan host from battle. I beseech ye haste away, and bear this faithful message to your King: since I but linger out a life I loathe, without my Pallas, nothing but thy sword can bid me live. Then let thy sword repay its debt to sire and son by Turnus slain! Such deed alone may with thy honor fit, and happier fortunes. But my life to me has no joy left to pray for, save to bring my son that solace in the shadowy land.” Meanwhile o'er sorrowing mortals the bright morn
had lifted her mild beam, renewing so the burden of man's toil. Aeneas now built funeral pyres along the winding shore, King Tarchon at his side. Each thither brought the bodies of his kin, observing well all ancient ritual. The fuming fires burned from beneath, till highest heaven was hid in blackest, overmantling cloud. Three times the warriors, sheathed in proud, resplendent steel, paced round the kindling pyres; and three times fair companies of horsemen circled slow, with loud lamenting, round the doleful flame.
The wail of warriors and the trumpets' blare the very welkin rend. Cast on the flames are spoils of slaughtered Latins,—helms and blades, bridles and chariot-wheels. Yet others bring gifts to the dead familiar, their own shields and unavailing spears. Around them slain great herds of kine give tribute unto death: swine, bristly-backed, from many a field are borne, and slaughtered sheep bleed o'er the sacred fire. So on the shore the wailing multitude behold their comrades burning, and keep guard o'er the consuming pyres, nor turn away
till cooling night re-shifts the globe of heaven, thick-strewn with numberless far-flaming stars. Likewise the mournful Latins far away have built their myriad pyres. Yet of the slain not few in graves are laid, and borne with tears to neighboring country-side or native town; the rest—promiscuous mass of dead unknown— to nameless and unhonored ashes burn; with multitude of fires the far-spread fields blaze forth unweariedly. But when from heaven the third morn had dispelled the dark and cold, the mournful bands raked forth the mingled bones
and plenteous ashes from the smouldering pyres, then heaped with earth the one sepulchral mound. Now from the hearth-stones of the opulent town of old Latinus a vast wail burst forth, for there was found the chief and bitterest share of all the woe. For mothers in their tears, lone brides, and stricken souls of sisters fond, and boys left fatherless, fling curses Ioud on Turnus' troth-plight and the direful war: “Let him, let Turnus, with his single sword decide the strife,”—they cry,—“and who shall claim Lordship of Italy and power supreme.”
Fierce Drances whets their fury, urging all that Turnus singly must the challenge hear, and singly wage the war; but others plead in Turnus' favor; the Queen's noble name protects him, and his high renown in arms defends his cause with well-won trophies fair. Amid these tumults of the wrathful throng, lo, the ambassadors to Diomed arrive with cloudy forehead from their quest in his illustrious town; for naught availed their toilsome errand, nor the gifts and gold, nor strong entreaty. Other help in war
the Latins now must find, or humbly sue peace from the Trojan. At such tidings dire even Latinus trembles: Heaven's decrees and influence of gods too visible sustain Aeneas; so the wrath divine and new-filled sepulchres conspicuous give warning clear. Therefore the King convenes a general council of his captains brave beneath the royal towers. They, gathering, throng the approaches thither, where their Iord, gray-haired Latinus, takes the central throne, wearing authority with mournful brow.
He bids the envoys from Aetolia's King sent back, to speak and tell the royal words in order due. Forthwith on every tongue fell silence, while the princely Venulus, heeding his Iord's behest, began the parle: “My countrymen,” he said, “our eyes have seen strongholds of Greeks and Diomed the King. We braved all perils to our journey's end and clasped that hand whereof the dreadful stroke wrought Ilium's fall. The hero built a town, Argyripa, hereditary name, near mount Garganus in Apulian land:
passing that city's portal and the King's, we found free audience, held forth thy gifts, and told our names and fatherland. We showed what condict was enkindled, and what cause brought us to Arpi's King. He, hearing all, with brow benign made answer to our plea: ‘O happy tribes in Saturn's kingdom born, Ausonia's ancient stem! What fortune blind tempts ye from peace away, and now ensnares in wars unknown? Look how we men that dared lay Ilium waste (I speak not of what woes in battling neath her lofty walls we bore,
nor of dead warriors sunk in Simois' wave) have paid the penalty in many a land with chastisement accurst and changeful woe, till Priam's self might pity. Let the star of Pallas tell its tale of fatal storm, off grim Caphereus and Eubcea's crags. Driven asunder from one field of war, Atrides unto farthest Egypt strayed, and wise Ulysses saw from Aetna's caves the Cyclops gathering. Why name the throne of Pyrrhus, or the violated hearth whence fled Idomeneus? Or Locri cast
on Libya's distant shore? For even he, Lord of Mycenae by the Greeks obeyed, fell murdered on his threshold by the hand of that polluted wife, whose paramour trapped Asia's conqueror. The envious gods withheld me also from returning home to see once more the hearth-stone of my sires, the wife I yearn for, and my Calydon, the beauteous land. For wonders horrible pursue me still. My vanished followers through upper air take wing, or haunt and rove in forms of birds the island waters o'er:
ah me, what misery my people feel! The tall rocks ring with their lament and cry. Naught else had I to hope for from that day when my infatuate sword on gods I drew, and outraged with abominable wound the hand of Venus. Urge me not, I pray, to conflicts in this wise. No more for me of war with Trojans after Ilium's fall! I take no joy in evils past, nor wish such memory to renew. Go, lay these gifts, brought to my honor from your ancient land, at great Aeneas' feet. We twain have stood
confronting close with swords implacable in mortal fray. Believe me, I have known the stature of him when he lifts his shield, and swings the whirlwind of his spear. If Troy two more such sons had bred, the Dardan horde had stormed at Argos' gates, and Greece to-day were for her fallen fortunes grieving sore. Our lingering at Ilium's stubborn wall, our sluggard conquest halting ten years Iong, was his and Hector's work. Heroic pair! Each one for valor notable, and each famous in enterprise of arms,—but he
was first in piety. Enclasp with his your hands in plighted peace as best ye may: but shock of steel on steel ye well may shun.’ now hast thou heard, good King, a king's reply, and how his wisdom sits in this vast war.” Soon as the envoys ceased, an answering sound of troubled voices through the council flowed of various note, as when its rocky bed impedes an arrowy stream, and murmurs break from the strait-channelled flood; the fringing shores repeat the tumult of the clamorous wave. But when their hearts and troublous tongues were still,
the King, invoking first the gods in heaven, thus from a Iofty throne his sentence gave: “Less evil were our case, if long ago ye had provided for your country's weal, O Latins, as I urged. It is no time to hold dispute, while, compassing our walls, the foeman waits. Ill-omened war is ours against a race of gods, my countrymen, invincible, unwearied in the fray, and who, though lost and fallen, clutch the sword. If hope ye cherished of Aetolia's power, dismiss it! For what hope ye have is found
in your own bosoms only. But ye know how slight it is and small. What ruin wide has fallen, is now palpable and clear. No blame I cast. What valor's uttermost may do was done; our kingdom in this war strained its last thews. Now therefore I will tell such project as my doubtful mind may frame, and briefly, if ye give good heed, unfold: an ancient tract have I, close-bordering the river Tiber; it runs westward far beyond Sicania's bound, and filth it bears to Rutule and Auruncan husbandmen,
who furrow its hard hills or feed their flocks along the stonier slopes. Let this demesne, together with its pine-clad mountain tall, be given the Teucrian for our pledge of peace, confirmed by free and equitable league, and full alliance with our kingly power. Let them abide there, if it please them so, and build their city's wall. But if their hearts for other land or people yearn, and fate permits them hence to go, then let us build twice ten good galleys of Italian oak, or more, if they can man them. All the wood
lies yonder on the shore. Let them but say how numerous and large the ships they crave, and we will give the brass, the artisans, and ship-supplies. Let us for envoys choose a hundred of the Latins noblest born to tell our message and arrange the peace, bearing mild olive-boughs and weighty gifts of ivory and gold, with chair of state and purple robe, our emblems as a king. But freely let this council speak; give aid to our exhausted cause.” Then Drances rose, that foe inveterate, whom Turnus' fame
to stinging hate and envy double-tongued ever pricked on. Of liberal wealth was he and flowing speech, but slack of hand in war at council board accounted no weak voice, in quarrels stronger still; of lofty birth in the maternal line, but by his sire's uncertain and obscure. He, claiming place, thus multiplies with words the people's ire: “A course most clear, nor needing voice of mine, thy council is, good King; for all men see the way of public weal, but smother close the telling of it. Turnus must concede
freedom to speak, and his own arrogance diminish! Under his ill-boding star and fatal conduct—yea, I speak it plain, though with his naked steel my death he swear— yon host of princes fell, and we behold the whole land bowed with grief; while he assails the Trojan camp (beating such bold retreats!) and troubles Heaven with war. One gift the more, among the many to the Trojans given, one chiefly, best of kings, thy choice should be. Let not wild violence thy will restrain from granting, sire, thy virgin daughter's hand
to son-in-law illustrious, in a match worthy of both,—and thus the lasting bond of peace establish. But if verily our hearts and souls be weak with craven fear, let us on Turnus call, and grace implore even of him. Let him no more oppose; but to his country and his King concede their natural right. Why wilt thou o'er and o'er fling thy poor countrymen in danger's way, O chief and fountain of all Latium's pain? War will not save us. Not a voice but sues for peace, O Turnus! and, not less than peace,
its one inviolable pledge. Behold, I lead in this petition! even I whom thou dost feign thy foe—(I waste no words denying)—look! I supplicate of thee, take pity on thy kindred; drop thy pride, and get thee home defeated. We have seen slaughter enough, enough of funeral flames, and many a wide field waste and desolate. If glory move thee, if thy martial breast so swell with strength, and if a royal dower be thy dear dream, go, pluck thy courage up, and front thy own brave bosom to the foe.
for, lo, that Turnus on his wedding day may win a princess, our cheap, common lives— we the mere mob, unwept, unsepulchred— must be spilled forth in battle! Thou, I say, if there be mettle in thee and some drops of thy undaunted sires, Iook yonder where the Trojan chieftain waits thee in the field.” By such discourse he stirred the burning blood of Turnus, who groaned loud and from his heart this utterance hurled: “O Drances, thou art rich in large words, when the day of battle calls for actions. If our senators convene
thou comest early. But the council hall is not for swollen talk, such as thy tongue in safety tosses forth; so long as walls hold back thy foes, and ere the trenches flow with blood of brave men slain. O, rattle on in fluent thunder—thy habitual style! Brand me a coward, Drances, when thy sword has heaped up Trojan slain, and on the field thy shining trophies rise. Now may we twain our martial prowess prove. Our foe, forsooth, is not so far to seek; around yon wall he lies in siege: to front him let us fly!
Why art thou tarrying? Wilt thou linger here, a soldier only in thy windy tongue, and thy swift, coward heels? Defeated, I? Foul wretch, what tongue that honors truth can tell of my defeat, while Tiber overflows with Trojan blood? while King Evander's house in ruin dies, and his Arcadians lie stripped naked on the field? O, not like thee did Bitias or the giant Pandarus misprize my honor; nor those men of Troy whom this good sword to death and dark sent down, a thousand in a day,—though I was penned
a prisoner in the ramparts of my foe. War will not save us? Fling that prophecy on the doomed Dardan's head, or on thy own, thou madman! Aye, with thy vile, craven soul disturb the general cause. Extol the power of a twice-vanquished people, and decry Latinus' rival arms. From this time forth let all the Myrmidonian princes cower before the might of Troy; let Diomed and let Achilles tremble; let the stream of Aufidus in panic backward flow from Hadria's wave. But hear me when I say
that though his guilt and cunning feign to feel fear of my vengeance, much embittering so his taunts and insult—such a life as his my sword disdains. O Drances, be at ease! In thy vile bosom let thy breath abide! But now of thy grave counsel and thy cause, O royal sire, I speak. If from this hour thou castest hope of armed success away, if we be so unfriended that one rout o'erwhelms us utterly, if Fortune's feet never turn backward, let us, then, for peace offer petition, lifting to the foe
our feeble, suppliant hands. Yet would I pray some spark of manhood such as once we knew were ours once more! I count him fortunate, and of illustrious soul beyond us all, who, rather than behold such things, has fallen face forward, dead, his teeth upon the dust. But if we still have power, and men-at-arms unwasted and unscathed, if there survive Italian tribes and towns for help in war, aye! if the Trojans have but won success at bloody cost,—for they dig graves, I ween, storm-smitten not less than we,—O, wherefore now
stand faint and shameful on the battle's edge? Why quake our knees before the trumpet call? Time and the toil of shifting, changeful days restore lost causes; ebbing tides of chance deceive us oft, which after at their flood do lift us safe to shore. If aid come not from Diomed in Arpi, our allies shall be Mezentius and Tolumnius, auspicious name, and many a chieftain sent from many a tribe; not all inglorious are Latium's warriors from Laurentian land! Hither the noble Volscian stem sends down
Camilla with her beauteous cavalry in glittering brass arrayed. But if, forsooth, the Trojans call me singly to the fight, if this be what ye will, and I so much the public weal impair—when from this sword has victory seemed to fly away in scorn? I should not hopeless tread in honor's way whate'er the venture. Dauntless will I go though equal match for great Achilles, he, and though he clothe him in celestial arms in Vulcan's smithy wrought. I, Turnus, now, not less than equal with great warriors gone,
vow to Latinus, father of my bride, and to ye all, each drop of blood I owe. Me singly doth Aeneas call? I crave that challenge. Drances is not called to pay the debt of death, if wrath from Heaven impend; nor his a brave man's name and fame to share.” Thus in their doubtful cause the chieftains strove. Meanwhile Aeneas his assaulting line moved forward. The ill tidings wildly sped from royal hall to hall, and filled the town with rumors dark: for now the Trojan host o'er the wide plains from Tiber's wave was spread
in close array of war. The people's soul was vexed and shaken, and its martial rage rose to the stern compulsion. Now for arms their terror calls; the youthful soldiery clamor for arms; the sires of riper days weep or repress their tears. On every side loud shouts and cries of dissonant acclaim trouble the air, as when in lofty grove legions of birds alight, or by the flood of Padus' fishy stream the shrieking swans far o'er the vocal marish fling their song. Then, seizing the swift moment, Turnus cried:
“Once more, my countrymen,—ye sit in parle, lazily praising peace, while yonder foe speeds forth in arms our kingdom to obtain.” He spoke no more, but hied him in hot haste, and from the housetop called, “Volusus, go! Equip the Volscian companies! Lead forth my Rutules also! O'er the spreading plain, ye brothers Coras and Messapus range our host of cavalry! Let others guard the city's gates and hold the walls and towers: I and my followers elsewhere oppose the shock of arms.” Now to and fro they run
to man the walls. Father Latinus quits— the place of council and his large design, vexed and bewildered by the hour's distress. He blames his own heart that he did not ask Trojan Aeneas for his daughter's Iord, and gain him for his kingdom's lasting friend. They dig them trenches at the gates, or lift burden of stakes and stones. The horn's harsh note sounds forth its murderous signal for the war; striplings and women, in a motley ring, defend the ramparts; the decisive hour lays tasks on all. Upon the citadel
a train of matrons, with the doleful Queen, toward Pallas' temple moves, and in their hand are gifts and offerings. See, at their side the maid Lavinia, cause of all these tears, drops down her lovely eyes! The incense rolls in clouds above the altar; at the doors with wailing voice the women make this prayer: “Tritonian virgin, arbitress of war! Break of thyself yon Phrygian robber's spear! Hurl him down dying in the dust! Spill forth his evil blood beneath our lofty towers!” Fierce Turnus girds him, emulous to slay:
a crimson coat of mail he wears, with scales of burnished bronze; beneath his knees are bound the golden greaves; upon his naked brow no helm he wears; but to his thigh is bound a glittering sword. Down from the citadel runs he, a golden glory, in his heart boldly exulting, while impatient hope fore-counts his fallen foes. He seemed as when, from pinfold bursting, breaking his strong chain, th' untrammelled stallion ranges the wide field, or tries him to a herd of feeding mares, or to some cooling river-bank he knows,
most fierce and mettlesome; the streaming mane o'er neck and shoulder flies. Across his path Camilla with her Volscian escort came, and at the city-gate the royal maid down from her charger leaped; while all her band at her example glided to the ground, their horses leaving. Thus the virgin spoke: “Turnus, if confidence beseem the brave, I have no fear; but of myself do vow to meet yon squadrons of Aeneadae alone, and front me to the gathered charge of Tuscan cavalry. Let me alone
the war's first venture-prove. Take station, thou, here at the walls, this rampart to defend.” With fixed eyes on the terror-striking maid, Turnus replied, “O boast of Italy, O virgin bold! What praise, what gratitude can words or deeds repay? But since thy soul so large of stature shows, I bid thee share my burden and my war. Our spies bring news that now Aeneas with pernicious mind sends light-armed horse before him, to alarm the plains below, while through the wilderness he climbs the steep hills, and approaches so
our leaguered town. But I in sheltered grove a stratagem prepare, and bid my men in ambush at a mountain cross-road lie. Meet thou the charge of Tuscan cavalry with all thy banners. For auxiliar strength take bold Messapus with his Latin troop and King Tiburtus' men: but the command shall be thy task and care.” He spoke, and urged with like instruction for the coming fray Messapus and his captains; then advanced to meet the foe. There is a winding vale for armed deception and insidious war
well fashioned, and by interlacing leaves screened darkly in; a small path thither leads, through strait defile-a passage boding ill. Above it, on a mountain's lofty brow, are points of outlook, level spaces fair, and many a safe, invisible retreat from whence on either hand to challenge war, or, standing on the ridges, to roll down huge mountain boulders. Thither Turnus fared, and, ranging the familiar tract, chose out his cunning ambush in the dangerous grove. But now in dwellings of the gods on high,
Diana to fleet-footed Opis called, a virgin from her consecrated train, and thus in sorrow spoke: “O maiden mine! Camilla now to cruel conflict flies; with weapons like my own she girds her side, in vain, though dearest of all nymphs to me. Nor is it some new Iove that stirs to-day with sudden sweetness in Diana's breast: for long ago, when from his kingdom driven, for insolent and envied power, her sire King Metabus, from old Privernum's wall was taking flight amidst opposing foes,
he bore a little daughter in his arms to share his exile; and he called the child (Changing Casmilla, her queen-mother's name) Camilla. Bearing on his breast the babe, he fled to solitary upland groves. But hovering round him with keen lances, pressed the Volscian soldiery. Across his path, lo, Amasenus with full-foaming wave o'erflowed its banks—so huge a rain had burst but lately from the clouds. There would he fain swim over, but the love of that sweet babe restrained him, trembling for his burden dear.
In his perplexed heart suddenly arose firm resolve. It chanced the warrior bore huge spear in his brawny hand, strong shaft of knotted, seasoned oak; to this he lashed his little daughter with a withe of bark pulled from a cork-tree, and with skilful bonds fast bound her to the spear; then, poising it high in his right hand, thus he called on Heaven: ‘Latona's daughter, whose benignant grace protects this grove, behold, her father now gives thee this babe for handmaid! Lo, thy spear her infant fingers hold, as from her foes
she flies a suppliant to thee! Receive, O goddess, I implore, what now I cast upon the perilous air.’—He spoke, and hurled with lifted arm the whirling shaft. The waves roared loud, as on the whistling javelin hapless Camilla crossed th' impetuous flood. But Metabus, his foes in hot pursuit, dared plunge him in mid-stream, and, triumphing, soon plucked from grass-grown river-bank the spear, the child upon it,—now to Trivia vowed, a virgin offering. Him nevermore could cities hold, nor would his wild heart yield
its sylvan freedom, but his days were passed with shepherds on the solitary hills. His daughter too in tangled woods he bred: a brood-mare from the milk of her fierce breast suckled the child, and to its tender lips .Her udders moved; and when the infant feet their first firm steps had taken, the small palms were armed with a keen javelin; her sire a bow and quiver from her shoulder slung. Instead of golden combs and flowing pall, she wore, from her girl-forehead backward thrown, the whole skin of a tigress; with soft hands
she made her plaything of a whirling spear, or, swinging round her head the polished thong of her good sling, she fetched from distant sky Strymonian cranes or swans of spotless wing. From Tuscan towns proud matrons oft in vain sought her in marriage for their sons; but she to Dian only turned her stainless heart, her virgin freedom and her huntress' arms with faithful passion serving. Would that now this Iove of war had ne'er seduced her mind the Teucrians to provoke! So might she be one of our wood-nymphs still. But haste, I pray,
for bitter is her now impending doom. Descend, dear nymph, from heaven, and explore the country of the Latins, where the fight with unpropitious omens now begins. These weapons take, and from this quiver draw a vengeful arrow, wherewith he who dares to wound her sacred body, though he be a Trojan or Italian, shall receive bloody and swift reward at my command. Then, in a cloud concealed, I will consign her corpse, ill-fated but inviolate unto the sepulchre, restoring so
the virgin to her native land.” Thus spake the goddess; but her handmaid, gliding down, took her loud pathway on the moving winds, and mantled in dark storm her shape divine. Meanwhile the Teucrian legions to the wall draw near, with Tuscan lords and cavalry in numbered troops arrayed. Loud-footed steeds prance o'er the field, to manage of the rein rebellious, but turned deftly here or there. The iron harvest of keen spears spreads far, and all the plain burns bright with lifted steel. Messapus and swift Latin cavalry,
Coras his brother, and th' attending train of the fair maid Camilla, form their lines in the opposing field. Their poised right hands point the long lances forward, and light shafts are brandished in the air; the warrior hosts on steeds of fire come kindling as they ride. One instant, at a spear-throw's space, each line its motion stays; then with one sudden cry they rush forth, spurring on each frenzied steed. From-every side the multitudinous spears pour down like snowflakes, mantling heaven in shade. Now with contending spears and straining thews,
Tyrrhenus, and Aconteus, champion bold, ride forward; with the onset terrible loudly their armor rings; their chargers twain crash breast to breast, and like a thunderbolt Aconteus drops, or like a ponderous stone hurled from a catapult; full length he falls, surrend'ring to the winds his fleeting soul. Now all is panic: holding their light shields behind their backs, the Latin horse wheel round, retreating to the wall, the Trojan foe in close pursuit. Asilas, chieftain proud, led on th' assault. Hard by the city gates
the Latins wheeled once more and pressed the rein strong on the yielding neck; the charging foe took flight and hurried far with loose-flung rein. 'T was like the shock and onset of the sea that landward hurls the alternating flood and hides high cliffs in foam,—the tawny sands upflinging as it rolls; then, suddenly whirled backward on the reingulfing waves, it quits the ledges, and with ebbing flow far from the shore retires. The Tuscans twice drive back the flying Rutules to the town; and twice repulsed, with shields to rearward thrown,
glare back at the pursuer; but conjoined in the third battle-charge, both armies merge confusedly together in grim fight of man to man; then follow dying groans, armor blood-bathed and corpses, and strong steeds inextricably with their masters slain, so fierce the fray. Orsilochus—afraid to front the warrior's arms—launched forth a spear at Remulus' horse, and left the fatal steel clinging below its ear; the charger plunged madly, and tossed its trembling hoofs in air, sustaining not the wound; the rider fell,
flung headlong to the ground. Catillus slew Iollas; and then struck Herminius down, great-bodied and great-hearted, who could wield a monster weapon, and whose yellow hair from naked head to naked shoulder flowed. By wounds unterrified he dared oppose his huge bulk to the foe: the quivering spear pierced to his broad back, and with throes of pain bowed the man double and clean clove him through. Wide o'er the field th' ensanguined horror flowed, where fatal swords were crossed and cut their way through many a wound to famous death and fair.
Swift through the midmost slaughter proudly strides the quiver-girt Camilla, with one breast thrust naked to the fight, like Amazon. Oft from her hand her pliant shafts she rains, or whirls with indefatigable arm a doughty battle-axe; her shoulder bears Diana's sounding arms and golden bow. Sometimes retreating and to flight compelled, the maiden with a rearward-pointing bow shoots arrows as she flies. Around her move her chosen peers, Larina, virgin brave, Tarpeia, brandishing an axe of bronze,
and Tulla, virgins out of Italy whom the divine Camilla chose to be her glory, each a faithful servitress in days of peace or war. The maids of Thrace ride thus along Thermodon's frozen flood, and fight with blazoned Amazonian arms around Hippolyta; or when returns Penthesilea in triumphal car 'mid acclamations shrill, and all her host of women clash in air the moon-shaped shield. What warrior first, whom last, did thy strong spear, fierce virgin, earthward fling? Or what thy tale
of prostrate foes laid gasping on the ground? Eunaeus first, the child of Clytius' Ioins, whose bared breast, as he faced his foe, she pierced with fir-tree javelin; from his lips outpoured the blood-stream as he fell; and as he bit the gory dust, he clutched his mortal wound. Then Liris, and upon him Pagasus she slew: the one clung closer to the reins of his stabbed horse, and rolled off on the ground; the other, flying to his fallen friend, reached out a helpless hand; so both of these fell on swift death together. Next in line
she smote Amastrus, son of Hippotas; then, swift-pursuing, pierced with far-flung spear Tereus, Harpalycus, Demophoon, and Chromis; every shaft the virgin threw laid low its Phrygian warrior. From afar rode Ornytus on his Apulian steed, bearing a hunter's uncouth arms; for cloak he wore upon his shoulders broad a hide from some wild bull stripped off; his helmet was a wolf's great, gaping mouth, with either jaw full of white teeth; the weapon in his hand, a farmer's pole. He strode into the throng,
head taller than them all. But him she seized and clove him through (his panic-stricken troop gave her advantage), and with wrathful heart she taunted thus the fallen: “Didst thou deem this was a merry hunting in the wood in chase of game? Behold, thy fatal day befalls thee at a woman's hand, and thus thy boasting answers. No small glory thou unto the ghosts of thy dead sires wilt tell, that 't was Camilla's javelin struck thee down.” The turn of Butes and Orsilochus came next, who were the Trojans, hugest twain:
yet Butes with her javelin-point she clove from rearward, 'twixt the hauberk and the helm, just where the horseman's neck showed white, and where from shoulder leftward slung the light-weight shield. From swift Orsilochus she feigned to fly, through a wide circle sweeping, craftily taking the inside track, pursuing so her own pursuer; then she raised herself to her full height, and through the warrior's helm drove to his very skull with doubling blows of her strong battle-axe,—while he implored her mercy with loud prayers: his cloven brain
spilt o'er his face. Next in her pathway came— but shrank in startled fear—the warrior son of Aunus, haunter of the Apennine, not least of the Ligurians ere his doom cut short a life of lies. He, knowing well no flight could save him from the shock of arms nor turn the royal maid's attack, began with words of cunning and insidious guile: “What glory is it if a girl be bold, on sturdy steed depending? Fly me not! But, venturing with me on this equal ground, gird thee to fight on foot. Soon shalt thou see
which one of us by windy boast achieves a false renown.” He spoke; but she, to pangs of keenest fury stung, gave o'er her steed in charge of a companion, and opposed her foe at equal vantage, falchion drawn, on foot, and, though her shield no blazon bore, of fear incapable. But the warrior fled, thinking his trick victorious, and rode off full speed, with reins reversed,—his iron heel goading his charger's flight. Camilla cried: “Ligurian cheat! In vain thy boastful heart puffs thee so large; in vain thou hast essayed
thy father's slippery ways; nor shall thy trick bring thee to guileful Aunus safely home.” Herewith on winged feet that virgin bold flew past the war-horse, seized the streaming rein, and, fronting him, took vengeance on her foe in bloody strokes: with not less ease a hawk, dark bird of omen, from his mountain crag pursues on pinions strong a soaring dove to distant cloud, and, clutching with hooked claws, holds tight and rips,—while through celestial air the torn, ensanguined plumage floats along. But now not blindly from Olympian throne
the Sire of gods and men observant saw how sped the day. Then to the conflict dire the god thrust Tarchon forth, the Tyrrhene King, goading the warrior's rage. So Tarchon rode through slaughter wide and legions in retreat, and roused the ranks with many a wrathful cry: he called each man by name, and toward the foe drove back the routed lines. “What terrors now, Tuscan cowards, dead to noble rage, have seized ye? or what laggard sloth and vile unmans your hearts, that now a woman's arm pursues ye and this scattered host confounds?
Why dressed in steel, or to what purpose wear your futile swords? Not slackly do ye join the ranks of Venus in a midnight war; or when fantastic pipes of Bacchus call your dancing feet, right venturesome ye fly to banquets and the flowing wine—what zeal, what ardor then! Or if your flattering priest begins the revel, and to Iofty groves fat flesh of victims bids ye haste away!” So saying, his steed he spurred, and scorning death dashed into the mid-fray, where, frenzy-driven, he sought out Venulus, and, grappling him
with one hand, from the saddle snatched his foe, and, clasping strongly to his giant breast, exultant bore away. The shouting rose to heaven, and all the Latins gazed his way, as o'er the plain the fiery Tarchon flew bearing the full-armed man; then, breaking off the point of his own spear, he pried a way through the seam'd armor for the mortal wound; the other, struggling, thrust back from his throat the griping hand, full force to force opposing. As when a golden eagle high in air knits to a victim—snake his clinging feet
and deeply-thrusting claws; but, coiling back, the wounded serpent roughens his stiff scales and stretches high his hissing head; whereat the eagle with hooked beak the more doth rend her writhing foe, and with swift stroke of wing lashes the air: so Tarchon, from the ranks of Tibur's sons, triumphant snatched his prey. The Tuscans rallied now, well pleased to view their king's example and successful war. Then Arruns, marked for doom, made circling line around Camilla's path, his crafty spear seeking its lucky chance. Where'er the maid
sped furious to the battle, Arruns there in silence dogged her footsteps and pursued; or where triumphant from her fallen foes she backward drew, the warrior stealthily turned his swift reins that way: from every side he circled her, and scanned his vantage here or vantage there, his skilful javelin stubbornly shaking. But it soon befell that Chloreus, once a priest of Cybele, shone forth in far-resplendent Phrygian arms, and urged a foaming steed, which wore a robe o'erwrought with feathery scales of bronze and gold;
while he, in purples of fine foreign stain, bore light Gortynian shafts and Lycian bow; his bow was gold; a golden casque he wore upon his priestly brow; the saffron cloak, all folds of rustling cambric, was enclasped in glittering gold; his skirts and tunics gay were broidered, and the oriental garb swathed his whole leg. Him when the maiden spied, (Perchance she fain on temple walls would hang the Trojan prize, or in such captured gold her own fair shape array), she gave mad chase, and reckless through the ranks her prey pursued,
desiring, woman-like, the splendid spoil. Then from his ambush Arruns seized at last the fatal moment and let speed his shaft, thus uttering his vow to heavenly powers: “Chief of the gods, Apollo, who dost guard Soracte's hallowed steep, whom we revere first of thy worshippers, for thee is fed the heap of burning pine; for thee we pass through the mid-blaze in sacred zeal secure, and deep in glowing embers plant our feet. O Sire Omnipotent, may this my spear our foul disgrace put by. I do not ask
for plunder, spoils, or trophies in my name, when yonder virgin falls; let honor's crown be mine for other deeds. But if my stroke that curse and plague destroy, may I unpraised safe to the cities of my sires return.” Apollo heard and granted half the prayer, but half upon the passing breeze he threw: granting his votary he should confound Camilla by swift death; but 't was denied the mountain-fatherland once more to see, or safe return,—that prayer th' impetuous winds swept stormfully away. Soon as the spear
whizzed from his hand, straight-speeding on the air, the Volscians all turned eager thought and eyes toward their Queen. She only did not heed that windy roar, nor weapon dropped from heaven, till in her bare, protruded breast the spear drank, deeply driven, of her virgin blood. Her terror-struck companians swiftly throng around her, and uplift their sinking Queen. But Arruns, panic-stricken more than all, makes off, half terror and half joy, nor dares hazard his lance again, nor dares oppose a virgin's arms. As creeps back to the hills
in pathless covert ere his foes pursue, from shepherd slain or mighty bull laid low, some wolf, who, now of his bold trespass ware, curls close against his paunch a quivering tail and to the forest tries: so Arruns speeds from sight of men in terror, glad to fly, and hides him in the crowd. But his keen spear dying Camilla from her bosom drew, though the fixed barb of deeply-wounding steel clung to the rib. She sank to earth undone, her cold eyes closed in death, and from her cheeks the roses fled. With failing breath she called
on Acca—who of all her maiden peers was chiefly dear and shared her heart's whole pain— and thus she spoke: “O Acca, sister mine, I have been strong till now. The cruel wound consumes me, and my world is growing dark. Haste thee to Turnus! Tell my dying words! 'T is he must bear the battle and hold back the Trojan from our city wall. Farewell!” So saying, her fingers from the bridle-rein unclasped, and helpless to the earth she fell; then, colder grown, she loosed her more and more out of the body's coil; she gave to death
her neck, her drooping head, and ceased to heed her war-array. So fled her spirit forth with wrath and moaning to the world below. Then clamor infinite uprose and smote the golden stars, as round Camilla slain the battle newly raged. To swifter charge the gathered Trojans ran, with Tuscan lords and King Evander's troops of Arcady. Fair Opis, keeping guard for Trivia in patient sentry on a lofty hill, beheld unterrified the conflict's rage. Yet when, amid the frenzied shouts of soldiery,
she saw from far Camilla pay the doom of piteous death, with deep-drawn voice of sight she thus complained: “O virgin, woe is me! Too much, too much, this agony of thine, to expiate that thou didst lift thy spear for wounding Troy. It was no shield in war, nor any vantage to have kept thy vow to chaste Diana in the thorny wild. Our maiden arrows at thy shoulder slung availed thee not! Yet will our Queen divine not leave unhonored this thy dying day, nor shall thy people let thy death remain
a thing forgot, nor thy bright name appear a glory unavenged. Whoe'er he be that marred thy body with the mortal wound shall die as he deserves.” Beneath that hill an earth-built mound uprose, the tomb of King Dercennus, a Laurentine old, by sombre ilex shaded: thither hied the fair nymph at full speed, and from the mound looked round for Arruns. When his shape she saw in glittering armor vainly insolent, “Whither so fast?” she cried. “This way, thy path! This fatal way approach, and here receive
thy reward for Camilla! Thou shalt fall, vile though thou art, by Dian's shaft divine.” She said; and one swift-coursing arrow took from golden quiver, like a maid of Thrace, and stretched it on her bow with hostile aim, withdrawing far, till both the tips of horn together bent, and, both hands poising well, the left outreached to touch the barb of steel, the right to her soft breast the bowstring drew: the hissing of the shaft, the sounding air, Arruns one moment heard, as to his flesh the iron point clung fast. But his last groan
his comrades heeded not, and let him lie, scorned and forgotten, on the dusty field, while Opis soared to bright Olympian air. Camilla's light-armed troop, its virgin chief now fallen, were the first to fly; in flight the panic-stricken Rutule host is seen and Acer bold; his captains in dismay with shattered legions from the peril fly, and goad their horses to the city wall. Not one sustains the Trojan charge, or stands in arms against the swift approach of death. Their bows unstrung from drooping shoulder fall,
and clatter of hoof-beats shakes the crumbling ground. On to the city in a blinding cloud the dust uprolls. From watch-towers Iooking forth, the women smite their breasts and raise to heaven shrill shouts of fear. Those fliers who first passed the open gates were followed by the foe, routed and overwhelmed. They could not fly a miserable death, but were struck down in their own ancient city, or expired before the peaceful shrines of hearth and home. Then some one barred the gates. They dared not now give their own people entrance, and were deaf
to all entreaty. Woeful deaths ensued, both of the armed defenders of the gate, and of the foe in arms. The desperate band, barred from the city in the face and eyes of their own weeping parents, either dropped with headlong and inevitable plunge into the moat below; or, frantic, blind, battered with beams against the stubborn door and columns strong. Above in conflict wild even the women (who for faithful love of home and country schooled them to be brave Camilla's way) rained weapons from the walls,
and used oak-staves and truncheons shaped in flame, as if, well-armed in steel, each bosom bold would fain in such defence be first to die. Meanwhile th' unpitying messenger had flown to Turnus in the wood; the warrior heard from Acca of the wide confusion spread, the Volscian troop destroyed, Camilla slain, the furious foe increasing, and, with Mars to help him, grasping all, till in that hour far as the city-gates the panic reigned. Then he in desperate rage (Jove's cruel power decreed it) from the ambushed hills withdrew
and pathless wild. He scarce had passed beyond to the bare plain, when forth Aeneas marched along the wide ravine, climbed up the ridge, and from the dark, deceiving grove stood clear. Then swiftly each with following ranks of war moved to the city-wall, nor wide the space that measured 'twixt the twain. Aeneas saw the plain with dust o'erclouded, and the lines of the Laurentian host extending far; Turnus, as clearly, saw the war array of dread Aeneas, and his ear perceived loud tramp of mail-clad men and snorting steeds.
Soon had they sped to dreadful shock of arms, hazard of war to try; but Phoebus now, glowing rose-red, had dipped his wearied wheel deep in Iberian seas, and brought back night above the fading day. So near the town both pitch their camps and make their ramparts strong.
Book 12
When Turnus marks how much the Latins quail in adverse war, how on himself they call to keep his pledge, and with indignant eyes gaze all his way, fierce rage implacable swells his high heart. As when on Libyan plain a lion, gashed along his tawny breast by the huntsman's grievous thrust, awakens him unto his last grim fight, and gloriously shaking the great thews of his maned neck, shrinks not, but crushes the despoiler's spear with blood-sprent, roaring mouth,—not less than so burns the wild soul of Turnus and his ire.
Thus to the King he spoke with stormful brow: “The war lags not for Turnus' sake. No cause constrains the Teucrian cowards and their King to eat their words and what they pledged refuse. On his own terms I come. Bring forward, sire, the sacrifice, and seal the pact I swear: either to deepest hell this hand shall fling yon Trojan runaway—the Latins all may sit at ease and see!—and my sole sword efface the general shame; or let him claim the conquest, and Lavinia be his bride.” To him Latinus with unruffled mind
thus made reply: “O youth surpassing brave! The more thy sanguinary valor burns beyond its wont, the more with toilsome care I ponder with just fear what chance may fall, weighing it well. Thy father Daunus' throne, and many a city by thy sword subdued, are still thy own. Latinus also boasts much golden treasure and a liberal hand. Other unwedded maids of noble stem in Latium and Laurentine land are found. Permit me, then, to tell thee without guile things hard to utter; let them deeply fill
thy listening soul. My sacred duty 'twas to plight my daughter's hand to nonesoe'er of all her earlier wooers—so declared the gods and oracles; but overcome by love of thee, by thy dear, kindred blood, and by the sad eyes of my mournful Queen, I shattered every bond; I snatched away the plighted maiden from her destined lord, and took up impious arms. What evil case upon that deed ensued, what hapless wars, thou knowest, since thyself dost chiefly bear the cruel burden. In wide-ranging fight
twice-conquered, our own city scarce upholds the hope of Italy. Yon Tiber's wave still runs warm with my people's blood; the plains far round us glisten with their bleaching bones. Why tell it o'er and o'er? What maddening dream perverts my mind? If after Turnus slain I must for friendship of the Trojan sue, were it not better to suspend the fray while Turnus lives? For what will be the word of thy Rutulian kindred—yea, of all Italia, if to death I give thee o'er— (Which Heaven avert!) because thou fain wouldst win
my daughter and be sworn my friend and son? Bethink thee what a dubious work is war; have pity on thy father's reverend years, who even now thy absence daily mourns in Ardea, his native land and thine.” But to this pleading Turnus' frenzied soul yields not at all, but rather blazes forth more wildly, and his fever fiercer burns beneath the healer's hand. In answer he, soon as his passion gathered voice, began: “This keen solicitude for love of me, I pray, good sire, for love of me put by!
And let me traffic in the just exchange of death for glory. This right hand, O King, can scatter shafts not few, nor do I wield untempered steel. Whene'er I make a wound blood follows. For my foeman when we meet will find no goddess-mother near, with hand to hide him in her woman's skirt of cloud, herself in dim, deluding shade concealed.” But now the Queen, whose whole heart shrank in fear from these new terms of duel, wept aloud, and like one dying clasped her fiery son: “O Turnus, by these tears-if in thy heart
thou honorest Amata still—O thou who art of our distressful, dark old age the only hope and peace, the kingly name and glory of Latinus rests in thee; thou art the mighty prop whereon is stayed our falling house. One favor I implore: give o'er this fight with Trojans. In such strife thy destined doom is destined to be mine by the same fatal stroke. For in that hour this hated life shall cease, nor will I look with slave's eyes on Aeneas as my son.” Lavinia heard her mother's voice, and tears
o'erflowed her scarlet cheek, where blushes spread like flame along her warm, young face and brow: as when the Indian ivory must wear ensanguined crimson stain, or lilies pale mingled with roses seem to blush, such hues her virgin features bore; and love's desire disturbed his breast, as, gazing on the maid, his martial passion fiercer flamed; whereon in brief speech he addressed the Queen: “No tears! No evil omen, mother, I implore! Make me no sad farewells, as I depart to the grim war-god's game! Can Turnus' hand
delay death's necessary coming? Go, Idmon, my herald, to the Phrygian King, and tell him this—a word not framed to please: soon as Aurora from her crimson car flushes to-morrow's sky, let him no more against the Rutule lead the Teucrian line; let Teucrian swords and Rutule take repose, while with our own spilt blood we twain will make an end of war; on yonder mortal field let each man woo Lavinia for his bride.” So saying, he hied him to his lordly halls, summoned his steeds, and with pleased eye surveyed
their action proud: them Orithyia, bride of Boreas, to Sire Pilumnus gave, which in their whiteness did surpass the snow in speed the wind. The nimble charioteers stood by and smote with hollowed hand and palm the sounding chests, or combed the necks and manes. But he upon his kingly shoulders clasped his corselet, thick o'erlaid with blazoned gold and silvery orichalch; he fitted him with falchion, shield, and helm of purple plume, that falchion which the Lord of Fire had made for Daunus, tempering in the Stygian wave
when white it glowed; next grasped he the good spear which leaned its weight against a column tall in the mid-court, Auruncan Actor's spoil, and waved it wide in air with mighty cry: “O spear, that ne'er did fail me when I called, the hour is come! Once mighty Actor's hand, but now the hand of Turnus is thy lord. Grant me to strike that carcase to the ground, and with strong hand the corselet rip and rend from off that Phrygian eunuch: let the dust befoul those tresses, tricked to curl so fine with singeing steel and sleeked with odorous oil.”
Such frenzy goads him: his impassioned brow is all on flame, the wild eyes flash with fire. Thus, bellowing loud before the fearful fray, some huge bull proves the fury of his horns, pushing against a tree-trunk; his swift thrusts would tear the winds in pieces; while his hoofs toss up the turf and sand, rehearsing war. That self-same day with aspect terrible Aeneas girt him in the wondrous arms his mother gave; made sharp his martial steel, and roused his heart to ire; though glad was he to seal such truce and end the general war.
Then he spoke comfort to his friends; and soothed Iulus' fear, unfolding Heaven's intent; but on Latinus bade his heralds lay unyielding terms and laws of peace impose. Soon as the breaking dawn its glory threw along the hills, and from the sea's profound leaped forth the horses of the sun-god's car, from lifted nostrils breathing light and fire, then Teucrian and Rutulian measured out a place for duel, underneath the walls of the proud city. In the midst were set altars of turf and hearth-stones burning bright
in honor of their common gods. Some brought pure waters and the hallowed flame, their thighs in priestly skirt arrayed, and reverend brows with vervain bound. Th' Ausonians, spear in hand, out from the city's crowded portals moved in ordered column: next the Trojans all, with Tuscan host in various martial guise, equipped with arms of steel, as if they heard stern summons to the fight. Their captains, too, emerging from the multitude, in pride of gold and purple, hurried to and fro: Mnestheus of royal stem, Asilas brave;
and Neptune's offspring, tamer of the steed, Messapus. Either host, at signal given, to its own ground retiring, fixed in earth the long shafts of the spears and stacked the shields. Then eagerly to tower and rampart fly the women, the infirm old men, the throng of the unarmed, and sit them there at gaze, or on the columned gates expectant stand. But Juno, peering from that summit proud which is to-day the Alban (though that time nor name nor fame the hallowed mountain knew), surveyed the plain below and fair array
of Trojan and Laurentine, by the walls of King Latinus. Whereupon straightway with Turnus' sister she began converse, goddess with goddess; for that nymph divine o'er Alba's calm lakes and loud rivers reigns; Jove, the high monarch of th' ethereal sky, gave her such glory when he stole away her virgin zone. “O nymph“, she said, “who art the pride of flowing streams, and much beloved of our own heart! thou knowest thou alone hast been my favorite of those Latin maids that to proud Jove's unthankful bed have climbed;
and willingly I found thee place and share in our Olympian realm. So blame not me, but hear, Juturna, what sore grief is thine: while chance and destiny conceded aught of strength to Latium's cause, I shielded well both Turnus and thy city's wall; but now I see our youthful champion make his war with fates adverse. The Parcae's day of doom implacably impends. My eyes refuse to Iook upon such fight, such fatal league. If for thy brother's life thou couldst be bold to venture some swift blow, go, strike it now!
'T is fit and fair! Some issue fortunate may tread on sorrow's heel.” She scarce had said, when rained the quick tears from Juturna's eyes. Three times and yet again her desperate hand smote on her comely breast. But Juno cried, “No tears to-day! But haste thee, haste and find what way, if way there be, from clutch of death to tear thy brother free; arouse the war; their plighted peace destroy. I grant thee leave such boldness to essay.” With this command she left the nymph dismayed and grieving sore. Meanwhile the kings ride forth: Latinus first,
looming tall-statured from his four-horse car; twelve rays of gold encircle his bright brow, sign of the sun-god, his progenitor; next Turnus, driving snow-white steeds, is seen,— two bread-tipped javelins in his hand he bears; Aeneas, of Rome's blood the source and sire, with star-bright shield and panoply divine, far-shining comes; Ascanius by his side— of Roman greatness the next hope is he. To camp they rode, where, garbed in blameless white, with youngling swine and two-year sheep unshorn, the priest before the flaming altars drove
his flock and offering: to the rising sun all eyes are lifted, as with careful hand the salted meal is scattered, while with knives they mark each victim's brow, outpouring wine from shallow bowls, the sacrifice to bless. Then good Aeneas, his sword drawn, put forth this votive prayer: “O Sun in heaven; and thou, Italia, for whom such toils I bear, be witness of my orison. On thee, Father omnipotent, I call; on thee, his Queen Saturnia,—now may she be more gracious to my prayer! O glorious Mars,
beneath whose godhead and paternity all wars begin and end, on thee I call; hail, all ye river-gods and haunted springs; hail, whatsoever gods have seat of awe in yonder distant sky, and ye whose power is in the keeping of the deep, blue sea: if victory to Ausonian Turnus fall, then let my vanquished people take its way unto Evander's city! From these plains Iulus shall retire—so stands the bond; nor shall the Trojans with rebellious sword bring after-trouble on this land and King.
But if on arms of ours success shall shine, as I doubt not it shall (may gods on high their will confirm!), I purpose not to chain Italian captive unto Teucrian lord, nor seek I kingly power. Let equal laws unite in federation without end the two unconquered nations; both shall share my worshipped gods. Latinus, as my sire, shall keep his sword, and as my sire receive inviolable power. The Teucrians shall build my stronghold, but our citadel shall bear forevermore Lavinia's name.”
Aeneas thus: then with uplifted eyes Latinus swore, his right hand raised to heaven: “I too, Aeneas, take the sacred vow. By earth and sea and stars in heaven I swear, by fair Latona's radiant children twain, and two-browed Janus; by the shadowy powers of Hades and th' inexorable shrines of the Infernal King; and may Jove hear, who by his lightnings hallows what is sworn! I touch these altars, and my lips invoke the sacred altar-fires that 'twixt us burn: we men of Italy will make this peace
inviolate, and its bond forever keep, let come what will; there is no power can change my purpose, not if ocean's waves o'erwhelm the world in billowy deluge and obscure the bounds of heaven and hell. We shall remain immutable as my smooth sceptre is“ (By chance a sceptre in his hand he bore), “which wears no more light leaf or branching shade; for long since in the grove 't was plucked away from parent stem, and yielded to sharp steel its leaves and limbs; erewhile 't was but a tree, till the wise craftsman with fair sheath of bronze
encircled it and laid it in the hands of Latium's royal sires.” With words like these they swore the bond, in the beholding eyes of gathered princes. Then they slit the throats of hallowed victims o'er the altar's blaze, drew forth the quivering vitals, and with flesh on loaded chargers heaped the sacrifice. But to Rutulian eyes th' approaching joust seemed all ill-matched; and shifting hopes and fears disturbed their hearts the closer they surveyed th' unequal risks: still worse it was to see how Turnus, silent and with downcast eyes,
dejectedly drew near the place of prayer, worn, pale, and wasted in his youthful bloom. The nymph Juturna, with a sister's fear, noted the growing murmur, and perceived how all the people's will did shift and change; she went from rank to rank, feigning the shape of Camers, scion of illustrious line, with heritage of valor, and himself dauntless in war; unceasingly she ran from rank to rank, spreading with skilful tongue opinions manifold, and thus she spoke: “Will ye not blush, Rutulians, so to stake
one life for many heroes? Are we not their match in might and numbers? O, behold those Trojan sons of Heaven making league with exiled Arcady; see Tuscan hordes storming at Turnus. Yet we scarce could find one foe apiece, forsooth, if we should dare fight them with half our warriors. Of a truth your champion brave shall to those gods ascend before whose altars his great heart he vows; and lips of men while yet on earth he stays will spread his glory far. Ourselves, instead, must crouch to haughty masters, and resign
this fatherland upon whose fruitful fields we dwell at ease.” So speaking, she inflamed the warriors' minds, and through the legions ran increasing whisper; the Laurentine host and even Latium wavered. Those who late prayed but for rest and safety, clamored loud for arms, desired annulment of the league, and pitied Turnus' miserable doom. Whereon Juturna tried a mightier stroke, a sign from heaven, which more than all beside confused the Latins and deceived their hearts with prodigy. For through the flaming skies
Jove's golden eagle swooped, and scattered far a clamorous tribe of river-haunting birds; then, swiftly to the waters falling, seized one noble swan, which with keen, curving claws he ruthless bore away: th' Italians all watched eagerly, while the loud-screaming flock wheeled upward (wondrous sight!), with host of wings shadowed the sky, and in a legion-cloud chased through the air the foe; till, overborne by heavier odds, the eagle from his claws flung back his victim to the waves, and fled to the dim, distant heaven. The Rutules then
hailed the good omen with consenting cry, and grasped the sword and shield. Tolumnius the augur spake first: “Lo, the sign I sought with many a prayer! I welcome and obey the powers divine. Take me for captain, me! And draw your swords, ye wretches, whom th' assault of yonder foreign scoundrel puts in fear like feeble birds, and with his violence lays waste your shore. He too shall fly away, spreading his ships' wings on the distant seas. Close up your ranks—one soul in all our breasts! Defend in open war your stolen King.”
So saying, he hurled upon th' opposing foe his javelin, running forward. The strong shaft of corner whistled shrill, and clove the air unerring. Instantly vast clamor rose, and all th' onlookers at the spectacle leaped up amazed, and every heart beat high. The spear sped flying to the foeman's line, where stood nine goodly brethren, pledges all of one true Tuscan mother to her lord, Gylippus of Arcadia; it struck full on one of these at his gold-belted waist, and where the clasp clung, pierced the rib clean through.
And stretched the fair youth in his glittering arms full length and lifeless on the yellow sand. His brothers then, bold band to wrath aroused by sorrow, seize the sword or snatch the spear and blindly charge. Opposing them, the host Laurentine makes advance, and close-arrayed the Trojans like a torrent pour, enforced by Tuscans and the gay-accoutred clans of Arcady. One passion moved in all to try the judgment of the sword. They tore the altars down: a very storm of spears rose angrily to heaven, in iron rain
down-pouring: while the priests bore far away the sacrificial bowls and sacred fires. Even Latinus fled; his stricken gods far from his violated oath he bore. Some leaped to horse or chariot and rode with naked swords in air. Messapus, wild to break the truce, assailed the Tuscan King, Aulestes, dressed in kingly blazon fair, with fearful shock of steeds; the Tuscan dropped helplessly backward, striking as he fell his head and shoulders on the altar-stone that lay behind him. But Messapus flew,
infuriate, a javelin in his hand, and, towering o'er the suppliant, smote him strong with the great beam-like spear, and loudly cried: “Down with him! Ah! no common victim he to give the mighty gods!” Italia's men despoiled the dead man ere his limbs were cold. Then Corynaeus snatched a burning brand out of the altar, and as Ebysus came toward him for to strike, he hurled the flame full in his face: the big beard quickly blazed with smell of singeing; while the warrior bold strode over him, and seized with firm left hand
his quailing foe's Iong hair; then with one knee he pushed and strained, compelled him to the `ground— and struck straight at his heart with naked steel. The shepherd Alsus in the foremost line came leaping through the spears; when o'er him towered huge Podalirius with a flashing sword in close pursuit; the mighty battle-axe clove him with swinging stroke from brow to chin, and spilt along his mail the streaming gore: so stern repose and iron slumber fell upon that shepherd's eyes, and sealed their gaze in endless night. But good Aeneas now
stretched forth his unarmed hand, and all unhelmed thus Ioudly to his people called: “What means this frantic stir, this quarrel rashly bold? Recall your martial rage! The pledge is given and all its terms agreed. 'T is only I do lawful battle here. So let me forth, and tremble not. My own hand shall confirm the solemn treaty. For these rites consign Turnus to none but me.” Yet while he spoke, behold, a winged arrow, hissing loud, the hero pierced; but what bold hand impelled its whirling speed, none knew; nor if it were
chance or some power divine that brought this fame upon Rutulia; for the glorious deed was covered o'er with silence: none would boast an arrow guilty of Aeneas' wound. When Turnus saw Aeneas from the line retreating, and the captains in dismay, with sudden hope he burned: he called for steeds, for arms, and, leaping to his chariot, rode insolently forth, the reins in hand. Many strong heroes he dispatched to die, as on he flew, and many stretched half-dead, or from his chariot striking, or from far
raining his javelins on the recreant foe. As Mars, forth-speeding by the wintry stream of Hebrus, smites his sanguinary shield and whips the swift steeds to the front of war, who, flying past the winds of eve and morn, scour the wide champaign; the bounds of Thrace beneath their hoof-beats thunder; the dark shapes of Terror, Wrath, and Treachery move on in escort of the god: in such grim guise bold Turnus lashed into the fiercest fray his streaming steeds, that pitiful to see trod down the slaughtered foe; each flying hoof
scattered a bloody dew; their path was laid in mingled blood and sand. To death he flung Pholus and Sthenelus and Thamyris: two smitten in close fight and one from far: also from far he smote with fatal spear Glaucus and Lades, the Imbrasidae, whom Imbrasus himself in Lycia bred, and honored them with arms of equal skill when grappling with a foe, or o'er the field speeding a war-horse faster than the wind. Elsewhere Eumedes through a throng of foes to battle rode, the high-born Dolon's child,
famous in war, who bore his grandsire's name, but seemed in might and courage like his sire: that prince, who reconnoitring crept so near the Argive camp, he dared to claim for spoil the chariot of Achilles; but that day great Diomed for such audacious deed paid wages otherwise,—and he no more dreamed to possess the steeds of Peleus' son. When Turnus recognized in open field this warrior, though far, he aimed and flung his javelin through the spacious air; then stayed his coursers twain, and, leaping from his car,
found the wretch helpless fallen; so planted he his foot upon his neck, and from his hand wrested the sword and thrust it glittering deep in the throat, thus taunting as he slew: “There's land for thee, thou Trojan! Measure there th' Hesperian provinces thy sword would find. Such reward will I give to all who dare draw steel on me; such cities they shall build.” To bear him company his spear laid low Asbutes, Sybaris, Thersilochus, Chloreus and Dares, and Thymoetes thrown sheer off the shoulders of his balking steed.
As when from Thrace the north wind thunders down the vast Aegean, flinging the swift flood against the shore, and where his blasts assail the cloudy cohorts vanish out of heaven: so before Turnus, where his path he clove, the lines fell back, the wheeling legions fled. The warrior's own wild impulse swept him on, and every wind that o'er his chariot blew shook out his plume in air. But such advance so bold, so furious, Phegeus could not brook, but, fronting the swift chariot's path, he seized the foam-flecked bridles of its coursers wild,
while from the yoke his body trailed and swung; the broad lance found his naked side, and tore his double corselet, pricking lightly through the outer flesh; but he with lifted shield still fought his foe and thrust with falchion bare; but the fierce pace of whirling wheel and pole flung him down prone, and stretched him on the plain. Then Turnus, aiming with relentless sword between the corselet's edge and helmet's rim struck off his whole head, leaving on the sands the mutilated corpse. While thus afield victorious Turnus dealt out death and doom,
Mnestheus, Achates true, and by their side Ascanius, have carried to the camp Aeneas, gashed and bleeding, whose long lance sustained his limping step. With fruitless rage he struggled with the spear-head's splintered barb, and bade them help him by the swiftest way to carve the wound out with a sword, to rip the clinging weapon forth, and send him back to meet the battle. Quickly to his side came Iapyx, dear favorite and friend of Phoebus, upon whom the god bestowed his own wise craft and power, Iove-impelled.
The gifts of augury were given, and song, with arrows of swift wing: he when his sire was carried forth to die, deferred the doom for many a day, by herbs of virtue known to leechcraft; and without reward or praise his silent art he plied. Aeneas stood, bitterly grieving, propped upon his spear; a throng of warriors were near him, and Iulus, sorrowing. The aged man gathered his garments up as leeches do, and with skilled hand and Phoebus' herbs of power bustled in vain; in vain his surgery
pried at the shaft, and with a forceps strong seized on the buried barb. But Fortune gave no remedy, nor did Apollo aid his votary. So more and more grim fear stalks o'er the field of war, and nearer hies the fatal hour; the very heavens are dust; the horsemen charge, and in the midmost camp a rain of javelins pours. The dismal cry of men in fierce fight, and of men who fall beneath relentless Mars, rends all the air. Then Venus, by her offspring's guiltless woe sore moved, did cull from Cretan Ida's crest
some dittany, with downy leaf and stem and flowers of purple bloom—a simple known to mountain goats, when to their haunches clings an arrow gone astray. This Venus brought, mantling her shape in cloud; and this she steeped in bowls of glass, infusing secretly ambrosia's healing essence and sweet drops of fragrant panacea. Such a balm aged Iapyx poured upon the wound, though unaware; and sudden from the flesh all pain departed and the blood was staunched, while from the gash the arrow uncompelled
followed the hand and dropped: his wonted strength flowed freshly through the hero's frame. “Make haste! Bring forth his arms! Why tarry any more?” Iapyx shouted, being first to fire their courage 'gainst the foe. “This thing is done not of man's knowledge, nor by sovereign skill; nor has my hand, Aeneas, set thee free. Some mighty god thy vigor gives again for mighty deeds.” Aeneas now put on, all fever for the fight, his golden greaves, and, brooking not delay, waved wide his spear. Soon as the corselet and the shield were bound
on back and side, he clasped Ascanius to his mailed breast, and through his helmet grim tenderly kissed his son. “My boy", he cried, “What valor is and patient, genuine toil learn thou of me; let others guide thy feet to prosperous fortune. Let this hand and sword defend thee through the war and lead thee on to high rewards. Thou also play the man! And when thy riper vigor soon shall bloom, forget not in thy heart to ponder well the story of our line. Heed honor's call, like Sire Aeneas and Hector thy close kin.”
After such farewell word, he from the gates in mighty stature strode, and swung on high his giant spear. With him in serried line Antheus and Mnestheus moved, and all the host from the forsaken fortress poured. The plain was darkened with their dust; the startled earth shook where their footing fell. From distant hill Turnus beheld them coming, and the eyes of all Ausonia saw: a chill of fear shot through each soldier's marrow; in their van Juturna knew full well the dreadful sound, and fled before it, shuddering. But he
hurried his murky cohorts o'er the plain. As when a tempest from the riven sky drives landward o'er mid-ocean, and from far the hearts of husbandmen, foreboding woe, quake ruefully,—for this will come and rend their trees asunder, kill the harvests all, and sow destruction broadcast; in its path fly roaring winds, swift heralds of the storm: such dire approach the Trojan chieftain showed before his gathered foes. In close array they wedge their ranks about him. With a sword Thymbraeus cuts huge-limbed Osiris down;
Mnestheus, Arcetius; from Epulo Achates shears the head; from Ufens, Gyas; Tolumnius the augur falls, the same who flung the first spear to the foeman's line. Uprose to heaven the cries. In panic now the Rutules in retreating clouds of dust scattered across the plain. Aeneas scorned either the recreant or resisting foe to slaughter, or the men who shoot from far: for through the war-cloud he but seeks the arms of Turnus, and to single combat calls. The warrior-maid Juturna, seeing this,
distraught with terror, strikes down from his place Metiscus, Turnus' charioteer, who dropped forward among the reins and off the pole. Him leaving on the field, her own hand grasped the loosely waving reins, while she took on Metiscus' shape, his voice, and blazoned arms. As when through some rich master's spacious halls speeds the black swallow on her lightsome wing, exploring the high roof, or harvesting some scanty morsel for her twittering brood, round empty corridors or garden-pools noisily flitting: so Juturna roams
among the hostile ranks, and wings her way behind the swift steeds of the whirling car. At divers points she lets the people see her brother's glory, but not yet allows the final tug of war; her pathless flight keeps far away. Aeneas too must take a course circuitous, and follows close his foeman's track; Ioud o'er the scattered lines he shouts his challenge. But whene'er his eyes discern the foe, and fain he would confront the flying-footed steeds, Juturna veers the chariot round and flies. What can he do?
Aeneas' wrath storms vainly to and fro, and wavering purposes his heart divide. Against him lightly leaped Messapus forth, bearing two pliant javelins tipped with steel; and, whirling one in air, he aimed it well, with stroke unfailing. Great Aeneas paused in cover of his shield and crouched low down upon his haunches. But the driven spear battered his helmet's peak and plucked away the margin of his plume. Then burst his rage: his cunning foes had forced him; so at last, while steeds and chariot in the distance fly,
he plunged him in the fray, and called on Jove the altars of that broken oath to see. Now by the war-god's favor he began grim, never-pitying slaughter, and flung free the bridle of his rage. What voice divine such horror can make known? What song declare the bloodshed manifold, the princes slain, or flying o'er the field from Turnus' blade, or from the Trojan King? Did Jove ordain so vast a shock of arms should interpose 'twixt nations destined to perpetual bond?
Aeneas met the Rutule Sucro—thus staying the Trojan charge—and with swift blow struck at him sidewise, where the way of death is quickest, cleaving ribs and rounded side with reeking sword. Turnus met Amycus, unhorsed him, though himself afoot, and slew Diores, his fair brother (one was pierced fronting the spear, the other felled to earth by strike of sword), and both their severed heads he hung all dripping to his chariot's rim. But Talon, Tanais, and Cethegus brave, three in one onset, unto death went down
at great Aeneas' hand; and he dispatched ill-starred Onites of Echion's line, fair Peridia's child. Then Turnus slew two Lycian brothers unto Phoebus dear, and young Menoetes, an Arcadian, who hated war (though vainly) when he plied his native fisher-craft in Lerna's streams, where from his mean abode he ne'er went forth to wait at great men's doors, but with his sire reaped the scant harvest of a rented glebe. as from two sides two conflagrations sweep dry woodlands or full copse of crackling bay,
or as, swift-leaping from the mountain-vales, two flooded, foaming rivers seaward roar, each on its path of death, not less uproused, speed Turnus and Aeneas o'er the field; now storms their martial rage; now fiercely swells either indomitable heart; and now each hero's full strength to the slaughter moves. Behold Murranus, boasting his high birth from far-descended sires of storied name, the line of Latium's kings! Aeneas now with mountain-boulder lays him low in dust, smitten with whirlwind of the monster stone;
and o'er him fallen under yoke and rein roll his own chariot wheels, while with swift tread the mad hoofs of his horses stamp him down, not knowing him their lord. But Turnus found proud Hyllus fronting him with frantic rage, and at his golden helmet launched the shaft that pierced it; in his cloven brain it clung. Nor could thy sword, O Cretheus, save thee then from Turnus, though of bravest Greeks the peer; nor did Cupencus' gods their priest defend against Aeneas, but his breast he gave unto the hostile blade; his brazen shield
delayed no whit his miserable doom. Thee also, Aeolus, Laurentum saw spread thy huge body dying on the ground; yea, dying, thou whom Greeks in serried arms subdued not, nor Achilles' hand that hurled the throne of Priam down: here didst thou touch thy goal of death; one stately house was thine on Ida's mountain, at Lyrnessus, one; Laurentum's hallowed earth was but thy grave. Now the whole host contends; all Latium meets all Ilium; Mnestheus and Serestus bold; Messapus, the steed-breaker, and high-soured
Asilas; Tuscans in a phalanx proud; Arcadian riders of Evander's train: each warrior lifts him to his height supreme of might and skill; no sloth nor lingering now, but in one far-spread conflict all contend. His goddess-mother in Aeneas' mind now stirred the purpose to make sudden way against the city-wall, in swift advance of all his line, confounding Latium so with slaughter and surprise. His roving glance, seeking for Turnus through the scattered lines this way and that, beholds in distant view
the city yet unscathed and calmly free from the wide-raging fight. Then on his soul rushed the swift vision of a mightier war. Mnestheus, Sergestus, and Serestus brave, his chosen chiefs, he summons to his side, and stands upon a hillock, whither throng the Teucrian legions, each man holding fast his shield and spear. He, towering high, thus from the rampart to his people calls: “Perform my bidding swiftly: Jove's own hand sustains our power. Be ye not slack, because the thing I do is sudden. For this day
I will pluck out th' offending root of war,— yon city where Latinus reigns. Unless it bear our yoke and heed a conqueror's will, will lay low in dust its blazing towers. Must I wait Turnus' pleasure, till he deign to meet my stroke, and have a mind once more, though vanquished, to show fight? My countrymen, see yonder stronghold of their impious war! Bring flames; avenge the broken oath with fire!” Scarce had he said, when with consenting souls, they speed them to the walls in dense array, forming a wedge. Ladders now leap in air,
and sudden-blazing fires. In various war some troops run charging at the city-gates, and slay the guards; some fling the whirling spear and darken heaven with arrows. In their van, his right hand lifted to the wails and towers, Aeneas, calling on the gods to hear, loudly upbraids Latinus that once more conflict is thrust upon him; that once more Italians are his foes and violate their second pledge of peace. So blazes forth dissension 'twixt the frighted citizens: some would give o'er the city and fling wide
its portals to the Trojan, or drag forth the King himself to parley; others fly to arms, and at the rampart make a stand. 'T is thus some shepherd from a caverned crag stirs up the nested bees with plenteous fume of bitter smoke; they, posting to and fro, fly desperate round the waxen citadel, and whet their buzzing fury; through their halls the stench and blackness rolls; within the caves noise and confusion ring; the fatal cloud pours forth incessant on the vacant air. But now a new adversity befell
the weary Latins, which with common woe shook the whole city to its heart. The Queen, when at her hearth she saw the close assault of enemies, the walls beset, and fire spreading from roof to roof, but no defence from the Rutulian arms, nor front of war with Turnus leading,—she, poor soul, believed her youthful champion in the conflict slain; and, mad with sudden sorrow, shrieked aloud against herself, the guilty chief and cause of all this ill; and, babbling her wild woe in endless words, she rent her purple pall,
and with her own hand from the rafter swung a noose for her foul death. The tidings dire among the moaning wives of Latium spread, and young Lavinia's frantic fingers tore her rose-red cheek and hyacinthine hair. Then all her company of women shrieked in anguish, and the wailing echoed far along the royal seat; from whence the tale of sorrow through the peopled city flew; hearts sank; Latinus rent his robes, appalled to see his consort's doom, his falling throne; and heaped foul dust upon his hoary hair.
Meanwhile the warrior Turnus far afield pursued a scattered few; but less his speed, for less and less his worn steeds worked his will; and now wind-wafted to his straining ear a nameless horror came, a dull, wild roar, the city's tumult and distressful cry. “Alack,” he cried, “what stirs in yonder walls such anguish? Or why rings from side to side such wailing through the city?” Asking so, he tightened frantic grasp upon the rein. To him his sister, counterfeiting still the charioteer Metiscus, while she swayed
rein, steeds, and chariot, this answer made: “Hither, my Turnus, let our arms pursue the sons of Troy. Here lies the nearest way to speedy triumph. There be other swords to keep yon city safe. Aeneas now storms against Italy in active war; we also on this Trojan host may hurl grim havoc. Nor shalt thou the strife give o'er in glory second, nor in tale of slain.” Turnus replied, “O sister, Iong ago I knew thee what thou wert, when guilefully thou didst confound their treaty, and enlist
thy whole heart in this war. No Ionger now thy craft divine deceives me. But what god compelled thee, from Olympus fallen so far, to bear these cruel burdens? Wouldst thou see thy wretched brother slaughtered? For what else is in my power? What flattering hazard still holds forth deliverance? My own eyes have seen Murranus (more than any now on earth my chosen friend) who, calling on my name, died like a hero by a hero's sword. Ill-fated Ufens fell, enduring not to Iook upon my shame; the Teucrians
divide his arms for spoil and keep his bones. Shall I stand tamely, till my hearth and home are levelled with the ground? For this would be the only blow not fallen. Shall my sword not give the lie to Drances' insolence? Shall I take flight and let my country see her Turnus renegade? Is death a thing so much to weep for? O propitious dead, O spirits of the dark, receive and bless me whom yon gods of light have cast away! Sacred and guiltless shall my soul descend to join your company; I have not been
unworthy offspring of my kingly sires.” Scarce had he said, when through the foeman's line Saces dashed forth upon a foaming steed, his face gashed by an arrow. He cried loud on Turnus' name: “O Turnus, but in thee our last hope lies. Have pity on the woe of all thy friends and kin! Aeneas hurls his thunderbolt of war, and menaces to crush the strongholds of all Italy, and lay them low; already where we dwell his firebrands are raining. Unto thee the Latins Iook, and for thy valor call.
The King sits dumb and helpless, even he, in doubt which son-in-law, which cause to choose. Yea, and the Queen, thy truest friend, is fallen by her own hand; gone mad with grief and fear, she fled the light of day. At yonder gates Messapus only and Atinas bear the brunt of battle; round us closely draw the serried ranks; their naked blades of steel are thick as ripening corn; wilt thou the while speed in thy chariot o'er this empty plain?” Dazed and bewildered by such host of ills, Turnus stood dumb; in his pent bosom stirred
shame, frenzy, sorrow, a despairing love goaded to fury, and a warrior's pride of valor proven. But when first the light of reason to his blinded soul returned, he strained his flaming eyeballs to behold the distant wall, and from his chariot gazed in wonder at the lordly citadel. For, lo, a pointed peak of flame uprolled from tier to tier, and surging skyward seized a tower—the very tower his own proud hands had built of firm-set beams and wheeled in place,
and slung its Iofty bridges high in air. “Fate is too strong, my sister! Seek no more to stay the stroke. But let me hence pursue that path where Heaven and cruel Fortune call. Aeneas I must meet; and I must bear the bitterness of death, whate'er it be. O sister, thou shalt look upon my shame no longer. But first grant a madman's will!” He spoke; and leaping from his chariot, sped through foes and foemen's spears, not seeing now his sister's sorrow, as in swift career he burst from line to line. Thus headlong falls
a mountain-boulder by a whirlwind flung from lofty peak, or loosened by much rain, or by insidious lapse of seasons gone; the huge, resistless crag goes plunging down by leaps and bounds, o'erwhelming as it flies tall forests, Bocks and herds, and mortal men: so through the scattered legions Turnus ran straight to the city walls, where all the ground was drenched with blood, and every passing air shrieked with the noise of spears. His lifted hand made sign of silence as he loudly called: “Refrain, Rutulians! O ye Latins all,
your spears withhold! The issue of the fray is all my own. I only can repair our broken truce by judgment of the sword.” Back fell the hostile lines, and cleared the field. But Sire Aeneas, hearing Turnus' name, down the steep rampart from the citadel unlingering tried, all lesser task laid by, with joy exultant and dread-thundering arms. Like Athos' crest he loomed, or soaring top of Eryx, when the nodding oaks resound, or sovereign Apennine that lifts in air his forehead of triumphant snow. All eyes
of Troy, Rutulia, and Italy were fixed his way; and all who kept a guard on lofty rampart, or in siege below were battering the foundations, now laid by their implements and arms. Latinus too stood awestruck to behold such champions, born in lands far-sundered, met upon one field for one decisive stroke of sword with sword. Swift striding forth where spread the vacant plain, they hurled their spears from far; then in close fight the brazen shields rang. Beneath their tread Earth groaned aloud, as with redoubling blows
their falchions fell; nor could a mortal eye 'twixt chance and courage the dread work divide. As o'er Taburnus' top, or spacious hills of Sila, in relentless shock of war, two bulls rush brow to brow, while terror-pale the herdsmen fly; the herd is hushed with fear; the heifers dumbly marvel which shall be true monarch of the grove, whom all the kine obedient follow; but the rival twain, commingling mightily wound after wound, thrust with opposing horns, and bathe their necks in streams of blood; the forest far and wide
repeats their bellowing rage: not otherwise Trojan Aeneas and King Daunus' son clashed shield on shield, till all the vaulted sky felt the tremendous sound. The hand of Jove held scales in equipoise, and threw thereon th' unequal fortunes of the heroes twain: one to vast labors doomed and one to die. Soon Turnus, reckless of the risk, leaped forth, upreached his whole height to his lifted sword, and struck: the Trojans and the Latins pale cried mightily, and all eyes turned one way expectant. But the weak, perfidious sword
broke off, and as the blow descended, failed its furious master, whose sole succor now was flight; and swifter than the wind he flew. But, lo! a hilt of form and fashion strange lay in his helpless hand. For in his haste, when to the battle-field his team he drove, his father's sword forgotten (such the tale), he snatched Metiscus' weapon. This endured to strike at Trojan backs, as he pursued, but when on Vulcan's armory divine its earthly metal smote, the brittle blade broke off like ice, and o'er the yellow sands
in flashing fragments scattered. Turnus now takes mad flight o'er the distant plain, and winds in wavering gyration round and round; for Troy's close ring confines him, and one way a wide swamp lies, one way a frowning wall. But lo! Aeneas—though the arrow's wound still slackens him and oft his knees refuse their wonted step—pursues infuriate his quailing foe, and dogs him stride for stride. As when a stag-hound drives the baffled roe to torrent's edge (or where the flaunting snare of crimson feathers fearfully confines)
and with incessant barking swift pursues; while through the snared copse or embankment high the frightened creature by a thousand ways doubles and turns; but that keen Umbrian hound with wide jaws, undesisting, grasps his prey, or, thinking that he grasps it, snaps his teeth cracking together, and deludes his rage, devouring empty air: then peal on peal the cry of hunters bursts; the lake and shore reecho, and confusion fills the sky:— such was the flight of Turnus, who reviled the Rutules as he fled, and loudly sued
of each by name to fetch his own lost sword. Aeneas vowed destruction and swift death to all who dared come near, and terrified their trembling souls with menace that his power would raze their city to the ground. Straightway, though wounded, he gave chase, and five times round in circles ran; then winding left and right coursed the swift circles o'er. For, lo! the prize is no light laurel or a youthful game: for Turnus' doom and death their race is run. But haply in that place a sacred tree, a bitter-leaved wild-olive, once had grown,
to Faunus dear, and venerated oft by mariners safe-rescued from the waves, who nailed their gifts thereon, or hung in air their votive garments to Laurentum's god. But, heeding not, the Teucrians had shorn the stem away, to clear the field for war. 'T was here Aeneas' lance stuck fast; its speed had driven it firmly inward, and it clave to the hard, clinging root. Anchises' son bent o'er it, and would wrench his weapon free, and follow with a far-flung javelin the swift out-speeding foe. But Turnus then,
bewildered and in terror, cried aloud: “O Faunus, pity me and heed my prayer! Hold fast his weapon, O benignant Earth! If ere these hands have rendered offering due, where yon polluting Teucrians fight and slay.” He spoke; invoking succor of the god, with no Iost prayer. For tugging valiantly and laboring long against the stubborn stem, Aeneas with his whole strength could but fail to Ioose the clasping tree. While fiercely thus he strove and strained, Juturna once again, wearing the charioteer Metiscus' shape,
ran to her brother's aid, restoring him his own true sword. But Venus, wroth to see what license to the dauntless nymph was given, herself came near, and plucked from that deep root the javelin forth. So both with lofty mien strode forth new-armed, new-hearted: one made bold by his good sword, the other, spear in hand, uptowered in wrath, and with confronting brows they set them to the war-god's breathless game. Meanwhile th' Olympian sovereign supreme to Juno speaks, as from an amber cloud the strife she views: “My Queen, what end shall be?
What yet remains? Thou seest Aeneas' name numbered with tutelary gods of power; and well thou know'st what station in the sky his starward destiny intends. What scheme vexes thy bosom still? What stubborn hope, fostered in cloud and cold? O, was it well to desecrate a god with mortal wound; or well (what were a nymph unhelped by thee?) to give back Turnus his lost sword, and lend strength unavailing to the fallen brave? Give o'er, and to our supplication yield; let not such grief thy voiceless heart devour;
nor from thy sweet lips let thy mournful care so oft assail my mind. For now is come the last decisive day. Thy power availed to vex the Trojans upon land and sea, to wake abominable war, bring shame upon a royal house, and mix the songs of marriage and the grave: but further act I thee refuse.” Such was the word of Jove. Thus Saturn's daughter answered, drooping low her brows divine: “Because, great Jove, I knew thy pleasure, I from yonder earth retired and Turnus' cause, tho, with unwilling mind.
Else shouldst thou not behold me at this hour Upon my solitary throne of air enduring fair and foul; I should be found flame-girded on the battle's deadly verge, tempting the Teucrians to a hated war. Yea, 't was my motion thrust Juturna forth to help her hapless brother. I approved— to save his life—that she should be too bold; but bade no whirl of spear nor bending bow: I swear it by th' inexorable fount whence flow the Stygian rivers, the sole seat where gods of light bow down in awful prayer.
I yield me now; heart-sick I quit the war. But ask one boon, which in the book of fate is not denied; for Latium's good I sue, and high prerogatives of men that be thy kith and kin: when happy wedlock vows (aye, be it so!) shall join them by strong laws of chartered peace, let not the Latins Iose their ancient, native name. Bid them not pass for Trojans, nor be hailed as Teucer's sons; no alien speech, no alien garb impose. Let it be Latium ever; let the lords of Alba unto distant ages reign;
let the strong, master blood of Rome receive the manhood and the might of Italy. Troy perished: let its name and glory die!” The Author of mankind and all that is, smiling benignant, answered thus her plea: “Jove's sister true, and Saturn's second child, what seas of anger vex thy heart divine! But come, relinquish thy rash, fruitless rage: I give thee this desire, and yield to thee free submission. The Ausonian tribes shall keep the speech and customs of their sires; the name remains as now; the Teucrian race,
abiding in the land, shall but infuse the mixture of its blood. I will bestow a league of worship, and to Latins give one language only. From the mingled breed a people shall come forth whom thou shalt see surpass all mortal men and even outvie the faithfulness of gods; for none that live shall render to thy name an equal praise.” So Juno bowed consent, and let her will be changed, as with much comfort in her breast she left Olympus and her haunt of cloud. After these things Jove gave his kingly mind
to further action, that he might forthwith cut off Juturna from her brother's cause. Two plagues there be, called Furies, which were spawned at one birth from the womb of wrathful Night with dread Megaera, phantom out of hell; and of their mother's gift, each Fury wears grim-coiling serpents and tempestuous wings. These at Jove's throne attend, and watch the doors of that stern King—to whet the edge of fear for wretched mortals, when the King of gods hurls pestilence and death, or terrifies offending nations with the scourge of war.
'T was one of these which Jove sent speeding down from his ethereal seat, and bade her cross the pathway of Juturna for a sign. Her wings she spread, and earthward seemed to ride upon a whirling storm. As when some shaft, with Parthian poison tipped or Cretan gall, a barb of death, shoots cloudward from the bow, and hissing through the dark hastes forth unseen: so earthward flew that daughter of the night. Soon as she spied the Teucrians in array and Turnus' lines, she shrivelled to the shape of that small bird which on lone tombs and towers
sits perching through the midnight, and prolongs in shadow and deep gloom her troubling cry. In such disguise the Fury, screaming shrill, flitted in Turnus' face, and with her wings smote on his hollow shield. A strange affright palsied his every limb; each several hair lifted with horror, and his gasping voice died on his lips. But when Juturna knew from far the shrieking fiend's infernal wing, she loosed her tresses, and their beauty tore, to tell a sister's woe; with clenching hands she marred her cheeks and beat her naked breast.
“What remedy or help, my Turnus, now is in a sister's power? What way remains for stubborn me? Or with what further guile thy life prolong? What can my strength oppose to this foul thing? I quit the strife at last. Withdraw thy terror from my fearful eyes, thou bird accurst! The tumult of thy wings I know full well, and thy death-boding call. The harsh decrees of that large-minded Jove I plainly see. Is this the price he pays for my lost maidenhood? Why flatter me with immortality, and snatch away
my property of death? What boon it were to end this grief this hour, and hie away to be my brother's helpmeet in his grave! I, an immortal? O, what dear delight is mine, sweet brother, living without thee? O, where will earth yawn deep enough and wide to hide a goddess with the ghosts below?” She spoke; and veiled in glistening mantle gray her mournful brow; then in her stream divine the nymph sank sighing to its utmost cave. Aeneas now is near; and waving wide a spear like some tall tree, he called aloud
with unrelenting heart: “What stays thee now? Or wherefore, Turnus, backward fly? Our work is not a foot-race, but the wrathful strife of man with man. Aye, hasten to put on tricks and disguises; gather all thou hast of skill or courage; wish thou wert a bird to fly to starry heaven, or hide thy head safe in the hollow ground!” The other then shook his head, saying: “It is not thy words, not thy hot words, affright me, savage man! Only the gods I fear, and hostile Jove.” Silent he stood, and glancing round him saw
a huge rock Iying by, huge rock and old, a landmark justly sundering field from field, which scarce six strong men's shoulders might upraise, such men as mother-Earth brings forth to-day: this grasped he with impetuous hand and hurled, stretched at full height and roused to all his speed, against his foe. Yet scarcely could he feel it was himself that ran, himself that moved with lifted hand to fling the monster stone; for his knees trembled, and his languid blood ran shuddering cold; nor could the stone he threw, tumbling in empty air, attain its goal
nor strike the destined blow. But as in dreams, when helpless slumber binds the darkened eyes, we seem with fond desire to tread in vain along a lengthening road, yet faint and fall when straining to the utmost, and the tongue is palsied, and the body's wonted power obeys not, and we have no speech or cry: so unto Turnus, whatsoever way his valiant spirit moved, the direful Fiend stopped in the act his will. Swift-changing thoughts rush o'er his soul; on the Rutulian host, then at the town he glares, shrinks back in fear,
and trembles at th' impending lance; nor sees what path to fly, what way confront the foe:— no chariot now, nor sister-charioteer! Above his faltering terror gleams in air Aeneas' fatal spear; whose eye perceived the moment of success, and all whose strength struck forth: the vast and ponderous rock outflung from engines which make breach in sieged walls not louder roars nor breaks in thunder-sound more terrible; like some black whirlwind flew the death-delivering spear, and, rending wide the corselet's edges and the heavy rim
of the last circles of the seven-fold shield, pierced, hissing, through the thigh. Huge Turnus sinks o'erwhelmed upon the ground with doubling knee. Up spring the Rutules, groaning; the whole hill roars answering round them, and from far and wide the lofty groves give back an echoing cry. Lowly, with suppliant eyes, and holding forth his hand in prayer: “I have my meed,” he cried, “Nor ask for mercy. Use what Fate has given! But if a father's grief upon thy heart have power at all,—for Sire Anchises once to thee was dear,—I pray thee to show grace
to Daunus in his desolate old age; and me, or, if thou wilt, my lifeless clay, to him and his restore. For, lo, thou art my conqueror! Ausonia's eyes have seen me suppliant, me fallen. Thou hast made Lavinia thy bride. Why further urge our enmity?”With swift and dreadful arms Aeneas o'er him stood, with rolling eyes, but his bare sword restraining; for such words moved on him more and more: when suddenly, over the mighty shoulder slung, he saw that fatal baldric studded with bright gold
which youthful Pallas wore, what time he fell vanquished by Turnus' stroke, whose shoulders now carried such trophy of a foeman slain. Aeneas' eyes took sure and slow survey of spoils that were the proof and memory of cruel sorrow; then with kindling rage and terrifying look, he cried, “Wouldst thou, clad in a prize stripped off my chosen friend, escape this hand? In this thy mortal wound 't is Pallas has a victim; Pallas takes the lawful forfeit of thy guilty blood!” He said, and buried deep his furious blade
in the opposer's heart. The failing limbs sank cold and helpless; and the vital breath with moan of wrath to darkness fled away.
Book 1
Arma virumque cano, Troiae qui primus ab oris Italiam, fato profugus, Laviniaque venit litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto vi superum saevae memorem Iunonis ob iram; multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem, inferretque deos Latio, genus unde Latinum, Albanique patres, atque altae moenia Romae. Musa, mihi causas memora, quo numine laeso, quidve dolens, regina deum tot volvere casus insignem pietate virum, tot adire labores impulerit. Tantaene animis caelestibus irae? Urbs antiqua fuit, Tyrii tenuere coloni,
Karthago, Italiam contra Tiberinaque longe ostia, dives opum studiisque asperrima belli; quam Iuno fertur terris magis omnibus unam posthabita coluisse Samo; hic illius arma, hic currus fuit; hoc regnum dea gentibus esse, si qua fata sinant, iam tum tenditque fovetque. Progeniem sed enim Troiano a sanguine duci audierat, Tyrias olim quae verteret arces; hinc populum late regem belloque superbum venturum excidio Libyae: sic volvere Parcas. Id metuens, veterisque memor Saturnia belli, prima quod ad Troiam pro caris gesserat Argis—
necdum etiam causae irarum saevique dolores exciderant animo: manet alta mente repostum iudicium Paridis spretaeque iniuria formae, et genus invisum, et rapti Ganymedis honores. His accensa super, iactatos aequore toto Troas, reliquias Danaum atque immitis Achilli, arcebat longe Latio, multosque per annos errabant, acti fatis, maria omnia circum. Tantae molis erat Romanam condere gentem! Vix e conspectu Siculae telluris in altum vela dabant laeti, et spumas salis aere ruebant, cum Iuno, aeternum servans sub pectore volnus,
haec secum: Mene incepto desistere victam, nec posse Italia Teucrorum avertere regem? Quippe vetor fatis. Pallasne exurere classem Argivum atque ipsos potuit submergere ponto, unius ob noxam et furias Aiacis Oilei? Ipsa, Iovis rapidum iaculata e nubibus ignem, disiecitque rates evertitque aequora ventis, illum expirantem transfixo pectore flammas turbine corripuit scopuloque infixit acuto. Ast ego, quae divom incedo regina, Iovisque et soror et coniunx, una cum gente tot annos bella gero! Et quisquam numen Iunonis adoret
praeterea, aut supplex aris imponet honorem? Talia flammato secum dea corde volutans nimborum in patriam, loca feta furentibus austris, Aeoliam venit. Hic vasto rex Aeolus antro luctantes ventos tempestatesque sonoras imperio premit ac vinclis et carcere frenat. Illi indignantes magno cum murmure montis circum claustra fremunt; celsa sedet Aeolus arce sceptra tenens, mollitque animos et temperat iras. Ni faciat, maria ac terras caelumque profundum quippe ferant rapidi secum verrantque per auras. Sed pater omnipotens speluncis abdidit atris,
hoc metuens, molemque et montis insuper altos imposuit, regemque dedit, qui foedere certo et premere et laxas sciret dare iussus habenas. Ad quem tum Iuno supplex his vocibus usa est: Aeole, namque tibi divom pater atque hominum rex et mulcere dedit fluctus et tollere vento, gens inimica mihi Tyrrhenum navigat aequor, Ilium in Italiam portans victosque Penates: incute vim ventis submersasque obrue puppes, aut age diversos et disiice corpora ponto. Sunt mihi bis septem praestanti corpore nymphae, quarum quae forma pulcherrima Deiopea,
conubio iungam stabili propriamque dicabo, omnis ut tecum meritis pro talibus annos exigat, et pulchra faciat te prole parentem. Aeolus haec contra: Tuus, O regina, quid optes explorare labor; mihi iussa capessere fas est. Tu mihi, quodcumque hoc regni, tu sceptra Iovemque concilias, tu das epulis accumbere divom, nimborumque facis tempestatumque potentem. Haec ubi dicta, cavum conversa cuspide montem impulit in latus: ac venti, velut agmine facto, qua data porta, ruunt et terras turbine perflant. Incubuere mari, totumque a sedibus imis
una Eurusque Notusque ruunt creberque procellis Africus, et vastos volvunt ad litora fluctus. Insequitur clamorque virum stridorque rudentum. Eripiunt subito nubes caelumque diemque Teucrorum ex oculis; ponto nox incubat atra. Intonuere poli, et crebris micat ignibus aether, praesentemque viris intentant omnia mortem. Extemplo Aeneae solvuntur frigore membra: ingemit, et duplicis tendens ad sidera palmas talia voce refert: O terque quaterque beati, quis ante ora patrum Troiae sub moenibus altis contigit oppetere! O Danaum fortissime gentis
Tydide! Mene Iliacis occumbere campis non potuisse, tuaque animam hanc effundere dextra, saevus ubi Aeacidae telo iacet Hector, ubi ingens Sarpedon, ubi tot Simois correpta sub undis scuta virum galeasque et fortia corpora volvit? Talia iactanti stridens Aquilone procella velum adversa ferit, fluctusque ad sidera tollit. Franguntur remi; tum prora avertit, et undis dat latus; insequitur cumulo praeruptus aquae mons. Hi summo in fluctu pendent; his unda dehiscens terram inter fluctus aperit; furit aestus harenis. Tris Notus abreptas in saxa latentia torquet—
saxa vocant Itali mediis quae in fluctibus aras— dorsum immane mari summo; tris Eurus ab alto in brevia et Syrtis urguet, miserabile visu, inliditque vadis atque aggere cingit harenae. Unam, quae Lycios fidumque vehebat Oronten, ipsius ante oculos ingens a vertice pontus in puppim ferit: excutitur pronusque magister volvitur in caput; ast illam ter fluctus ibidem torquet agens circum, et rapidus vorat aequore vortex. Adparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto, arma virum, tabulaeque, et Troia gaza per undas. Iam validam Ilionei navem, iam fortis Achati,
et qua vectus Abas, et qua grandaevus Aletes, vicit hiems; laxis laterum compagibus omnes accipiunt inimicum imbrem, rimisque fatiscunt. Interea magno misceri murmure pontum, emissamque hiemem sensit Neptunus, et imis stagna refusa vadis, graviter commotus; et alto prospiciens, summa placidum caput extulit unda. Disiectam Aeneae, toto videt aequore classem, fluctibus oppressos Troas caelique ruina, nec latuere doli fratrem Iunonis et irae. Eurum ad se Zephyrumque vocat, dehinc talia fatur: Tantane vos generis tenuit fiducia vestri?
Iam caelum terramque meo sine numine, venti, miscere, et tantas audetis tollere moles? Quos ego—sed motos praestat componere fluctus. Post mihi non simili poena commissa luetis. Maturate fugam, regique haec dicite vestro: non illi imperium pelagi saevumque tridentem, sed mihi sorte datum. Tenet ille immania saxa, vestras, Eure, domos; illa se iactet in aula Aeolus, et clauso ventorum carcere regnet. Sic ait, et dicto citius tumida aequora placat, collectasque fugat nubes, solemque reducit. Cymothoe simul et Triton adnixus acuto
detrudunt navis scopulo; levat ipse tridenti; et vastas aperit syrtis, et temperat aequor, atque rotis summas levibus perlabitur undas. Ac veluti magno in populo cum saepe coorta est seditio, saevitque animis ignobile volgus, iamque faces et saxa volant—furor arma ministrat; tum, pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quem conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus adstant; ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet,— sic cunctus pelagi cecidit fragor, aequora postquam prospiciens genitor caeloque invectus aperto flectit equos, curruque volans dat lora secundo.
Defessi Aeneadae, quae proxima litora, cursu contendunt petere, et Libyae vertuntur ad oras. Est in secessu longo locus: insula portum efficit obiectu laterum, quibus omnis ab alto frangitur inque sinus scindit sese unda reductos. Hinc atque hinc vastae rupes geminique minantur in caelum scopuli, quorum sub vertice late aequora tuta silent; tum silvis scaena coruscis desuper horrentique atrum nemus imminet umbra. Fronte sub adversa scopulis pendentibus antrum, intus aquae dulces vivoque sedilia saxo, nympharum domus: hic fessas non vincula navis
ulla tenent, unco non alligat ancora morsu. Huc septem Aeneas collectis navibus omni ex numero subit; ac magno telluris amore egressi optata potiuntur Troes harena, et sale tabentis artus in litore ponunt. Ac primum silici scintillam excudit Achates, succepitque ignem foliis, atque arida circum nutrimenta dedit, rapuitque in fomite flammam. Tum Cererem corruptam undis Cerealiaque arma expediunt fessi rerum, frugesque receptas et torrere parant flammis et frangere saxo. Aeneas scopulum interea conscendit, et omnem
prospectum late pelago petit, Anthea si quem iactatum vento videat Phrygiasque biremis, aut Capyn, aut celsis in puppibus arma Caici. Navem in conspectu nullam, tris litore cervos prospicit errantis; hos tota armenta sequuntur a tergo, et longum per vallis pascitur agmen. Constitit hic, arcumque manu celerisque sagittas corripuit, fidus quae tela gerebat Achates; ductoresque ipsos primum, capita alta ferentis cornibus arboreis, sternit, tum volgus, et omnem miscet agens telis nemora inter frondea turbam; nec prius absistit, quam septem ingentia victor
corpora fundat humi, et numerum cum navibus aequet. Hinc portum petit, et socios partitur in omnes. Vina bonus quae deinde cadis onerarat Acestes litore Trinacrio dederatque abeuntibus heros, dividit, et dictis maerentia pectora mulcet: O socii—neque enim ignari sumus ante malorum— O passi graviora, dabit deus his quoque finem. Vos et Scyllaeam rabiem penitusque sonantis accestis scopulos, vos et Cyclopea saxa experti: revocate animos, maestumque timorem mittite: forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit. Per varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum
tendimus in Latium; sedes ubi fata quietas ostendunt; illic fas regna resurgere Troiae. Durate, et vosmet rebus servate secundis. Talia voce refert, curisque ingentibus aeger spem voltu simulat, premit altum corde dolorem. Illi se praedae accingunt, dapibusque futuris; tergora deripiunt costis et viscera nudant; pars in frusta secant veribusque trementia figunt; litore aena locant alii, flammasque ministrant. Tum victu revocant vires, fusique per herbam implentur veteris Bacchi pinguisque ferinae. Postquam exempta fames epulis mensaeque remotae,
amissos longo socios sermone requirunt, spemque metumque inter dubii, seu vivere credant, sive extrema pati nec iam exaudire vocatos. Praecipue pius Aeneas nunc acris Oronti, nunc Amyci casum gemit et crudelia secum fata Lyci, fortemque Gyan, fortemque Cloanthum. Et iam finis erat, cum Iuppiter aethere summo despiciens mare velivolum terrasque iacentis litoraque et latos populos, sic vertice caeli constitit, et Libyae defixit lumina regnis. Atque illum talis iactantem pectore curas tristior et lacrimis oculos suffusa nitentis
adloquitur Venus: O qui res hominumque deumque aeternis regis imperiis, et fulmine terres, quid meus Aeneas in te committere tantum, quid Troes potuere, quibus, tot funera passis, cunctus ob Italiam terrarum clauditur orbis? Certe hinc Romanos olim, volventibus annis, hinc fore ductores, revocato a sanguine Teucri, qui mare, qui terras omni dicione tenerent, pollicitus, quae te, genitor, sententia vertit? Hoc equidem occasum Troiae tristisque ruinas solabar, fatis contraria fata rependens; nunc eadem fortuna viros tot casibus actos
insequitur. Quem das finem, rex magne, laborum? Antenor potuit, mediis elapsus Achivis, Illyricos penetrare sinus, atque intima tutus regna Liburnorum, et fontem superare Timavi, unde per ora novem vasto cum murmure montis it mare proruptum et pelago premit arva sonanti. Hic tamen ille urbem Patavi sedesque locavit Teucrorum, et genti nomen dedit, armaque fixit Troia; nunc placida compostus pace quiescit: nos, tua progenies, caeli quibus adnuis arcem, navibus (infandum!) amissis, unius ob iram prodimur atque Italis longe disiungimur oris.
Hic pietatis honos? Sic nos in sceptra reponis? Olli subridens hominum sator atque deorum, voltu, quo caelum tempestatesque serenat, oscula libavit natae, dehinc talia fatur: Parce metu, Cytherea: manent immota tuorum fata tibi; cernes urbem et promissa Lavini moenia, sublimemque feres ad sidera caeli magnanimum Aenean; neque me sententia vertit. Hic tibi (fabor enim, quando haec te cura remordet, longius et volvens fatorum arcana movebo) bellum ingens geret Italia, populosque feroces contundet, moresque viris et moenia ponet,
tertia dum Latio regnantem viderit aestas, ternaque transierint Rutulis hiberna subactis. At puer Ascanius, cui nunc cognomen Iulo additur,—Ilus erat, dum res stetit Ilia regno,— triginta magnos volvendis mensibus orbis imperio explebit, regnumque ab sede Lavini transferet, et longam multa vi muniet Albam. Hic iam ter centum totos regnabitur annos gente sub Hectorea, donec regina sacerdos, Marte gravis, geminam partu dabit Ilia prolem. Inde lupae fulvo nutricis tegmine laetus Romulus excipiet gentem, et Mavortia condet
moenia, Romanosque suo de nomine dicet. His ego nec metas rerum nec tempora pono; imperium sine fine dedi. Quin aspera Iuno, quae mare nunc terrasque metu caelumque fatigat, consilia in melius referet, mecumque fovebit Romanos rerum dominos gentemque togatam: sic placitum. Veniet lustris labentibus aetas, cum domus Assaraci Phthiam clarasque Mycenas servitio premet, ac victis dominabitur Argis. Nascetur pulchra Troianus origine Caesar, imperium oceano, famam qui terminet astris,— Iulius, a magno demissum nomen Iulo.
Hunc tu olim caelo, spoliis Orientis onustum, accipies secura; vocabitur hic quoque votis. Aspera tum positis mitescent saecula bellis; cana Fides, et Vesta, Remo cum fratre Quirinus, iura dabunt; dirae ferro et compagibus artis claudentur Belli portae; Furor impius intus, saeva sedens super arma, et centum vinctus aenis post tergum nodis, fremet horridus ore cruento. Haec ait, et Maia genitum demittit ab alto, ut terrae, utque novae pateant Karthaginis arces hospitio Teucris, ne fati nescia Dido finibus arceret: volat ille per aera magnum
remigio alarum, ac Libyae citus adstitit oris. Et iam iussa facit, ponuntque ferocia Poeni corda volente deo; in primis regina quietum accipit in Teucros animum mentemque benignam. At pius Aeneas, per noctem plurima volvens, ut primum lux alma data est, exire locosque explorare novos, quas vento accesserit oras, qui teneant, nam inculta videt, hominesne feraene, quaerere constituit, sociisque exacta referre Classem in convexo nemorum sub rupe cavata arboribus clausam circum atque horrentibus umbris occulit; ipse uno graditur comitatus Achate,
bina manu lato crispans hastilia ferro. Cui mater media sese tulit obvia silva, virginis os habitumque gerens, et virginis arma Spartanae, vel qualis equos Threissa fatigat Harpalyce, volucremque fuga praevertitur Hebrum. Namque umeris de more habilem suspenderat arcum venatrix, dederatque comam diffundere ventis, nuda genu, nodoque sinus collecta fluentis. Ac prior, Heus inquit iuvenes, monstrate mearum vidistis si quam hic errantem forte sororum, succinctam pharetra et maculosae tegmine lyncis, aut spumantis apri cursum clamore prementem.
Sic Venus; et Veneris contra sic filius orsus: Nulla tuarum audita mihi neque visa sororum— O quam te memorem, virgo? Namque haud tibi voltus mortalis, nec vox hominem sonat: O, dea certe— an Phoebi soror? an nympharum sanguinis una?— sis felix, nostrumque leves, quaecumque, laborem, et, quo sub caelo tandem, quibus orbis in oris iactemur, doceas. Ignari hominumque locorumque erramus, vento huc vastis et fluctibus acti: multa tibi ante aras nostra cadet hostia dextra. Tum Venus: Haud equidem tali me dignor honore; virginibus Tyriis mos est gestare pharetram,
purpureoque alte suras vincire cothurno. Punica regna vides, Tyrios et Agenoris urbem; sed fines Libyci, genus intractabile bello. Imperium Dido Tyria regit urbe profecta, germanum fugiens. Longa est iniuria, longae ambages; sed summa sequar fastigia rerum. Huic coniunx Sychaeus erat, ditissimus agri Phoenicum, et magno miserae dilectus amore, cui pater intactam dederat, primisque iugarat ominibus. Sed regna Tyri germanus habebat Pygmalion, scelere ante alios immanior omnes. Quos inter medius venit furor. Ille Sychaeum
impius ante aras, atque auri caecus amore, clam ferro incautum superat, securus amorum germanae; factumque diu celavit, et aegram, multa malus simulans, vana spe lusit amantem. Ipsa sed in somnis inhumati venit imago coniugis, ora modis attollens pallida miris, crudeles aras traiectaque pectora ferro nudavit, caecumque domus scelus omne retexit. Tum celerare fugam patriaque excedere suadet, auxiliumque viae veteres tellure recludit thesauros, ignotum argenti pondus et auri. His commota fugam Dido sociosque parabat:
conveniunt, quibus aut odium crudele tyranni aut metus acer erat; navis, quae forte paratae, corripiunt, onerantque auro: portantur avari Pygmalionis opes pelago; dux femina facti. Devenere locos, ubi nunc ingentia cernis moenia surgentemque novae Karthaginis arcem, mercatique solum, facti de nomine Byrsam, taurino quantum possent circumdare tergo. Sed vos qui tandem, quibus aut venistis ab oris, quove tenetis iter? Quaerenti talibus ille suspirans, imoque trahens a pectore vocem: O dea, si prima repetens ab origine pergam,
et vacet annalis nostrorum audire laborum, ante diem clauso componat Vesper Olympo. Nos Troia antiqua, si vestras forte per auris Troiae nomen iit, diversa per aequora vectos forte sua Libycis tempestas adpulit oris. Sum pius Aeneas, raptos qui ex hoste Penates classe veho mecum, fama super aethera notus. Italiam quaero patriam et genus ab Iove summo. Bis denis Phrygium conscendi navibus aequor, matre dea monstrante viam, data fata secutus; vix septem convolsae undis Euroque supersunt. Ipse ignotus, egens, Libyae deserta peragro,
Europa atque Asia pulsus. Nec plura querentem passa Venus medio sic interfata dolore est: Quisquis es, haud, credo, invisus caelestibus auras vitalis carpis, Tyriam qui adveneris urbem. Perge modo, atque hinc te reginae ad limina perfer, Namque tibi reduces socios classemque relatam nuntio, et in tutum versis aquilonibus actam, ni frustra augurium vani docuere parentes. Aspice bis senos laetantis agmine cycnos, aetheria quos lapsa plaga Iovis ales aperto turbabat caelo; nunc terras ordine longo aut capere, aut captas iam despectare videntur:
ut reduces illi ludunt stridentibus alis, et coetu cinxere polum, cantusque dedere, haud aliter puppesque tuae pubesque tuorum aut portum tenet aut pleno subit ostia velo. Perge modo, et, qua te ducit via, dirige gressum. Dixit, et avertens rosea cervice refulsit, ambrosiaeque comae divinum vertice odorem spiravere, pedes vestis defluxit ad imos, et vera incessu patuit dea. Ille ubi matrem adgnovit, tali fugientem est voce secutus: Quid natum totiens, crudelis tu quoque, falsis ludis imaginibus? Cur dextrae iungere dextram
non datur, ac veras audire et reddere voces? Talibus incusat, gressumque ad moenia tendit: at Venus obscuro gradientes aere saepsit, et multo nebulae circum dea fudit amictu, cernere ne quis eos, neu quis contingere posset, molirive moram, aut veniendi poscere causas. Ipsa Paphum sublimis abit, sedesque revisit laeta suas, ubi templum illi, centumque Sabaeo ture calent arae, sertisque recentibus halant. Corripuere viam interea, qua semita monstrat. Iamque ascendebant collem, qui plurimus urbi imminet, adversasque adspectat desuper arces.
Miratur molem Aeneas, magalia quondam, miratur portas strepitumque et strata viarum. Instant ardentes Tyrii pars ducere muros, molirique arcem et manibus subvolvere saxa, pars optare locum tecto et concludere sulco. hic portus alii effodiunt; hic alta theatris fundamenta locant alii, immanisque columnas rupibus excidunt, scaenis decora alta futuris. Qualis apes aestate nova per florea rura exercet sub sole labor, cum gentis adultos educunt fetus, aut cum liquentia mella stipant et dulci distendunt nectare cellas,
aut onera accipiunt venientum, aut agmine facto ignavom fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent: fervet opus, redolentque thymo fragrantia mella. O fortunati, quorum iam moenia surgunt! Aeneas ait, et fastigia suspicit urbis. Infert se saeptus nebula, mirabile dictu, per medios, miscetque viris, neque cernitur ulli. Lucus in urbe fuit media, laetissimus umbra, quo primum iactati undis et turbine Poeni effodere loco signum, quod regia Iuno monstrarat, caput acris equi; sic nam fore bello egregiam et facilem victu per saecula gentem.
Hic templum Iunoni ingens Sidonia Dido condebat, donis opulentum et numine divae, aerea cui gradibus surgebant limina, nexaeque aere trabes, foribus cardo stridebat aenis. Hoc primum in luco nova res oblata timorem leniit, hic primum Aeneas sperare salutem ausus, et adflictis melius confidere rebus. Namque sub ingenti lustrat dum singula templo, reginam opperiens, dum, quae fortuna sit urbi, artificumque manus inter se operumque laborem miratur, videt Iliacas ex ordine pugnas, bellaque iam fama totum volgata per orbem,
Atridas, Priamumque, et saevum ambobus Achillem. Constitit, et lacrimans, Quis iam locus inquit Achate, quae regio in terris nostri non plena laboris? En Priamus! Sunt hic etiam sua praemia laudi; sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt. Solve metus; feret haec aliquam tibi fama salutem. Sic ait, atque animum pictura pascit inani, multa gemens, largoque umectat flumine voltum. Namque videbat, uti bellantes Pergama circum hac fugerent Graii, premeret Troiana iuventus, hac Phryges, instaret curru cristatus Achilles. Nec procul hinc Rhesi niveis tentoria velis
adgnoscit lacrimans, primo quae prodita somno Tydides multa vastabat caede cruentus, ardentisque avertit equos in castra, prius quam pabula gustassent Troiae Xanthumque bibissent. Parte alia fugiens amissis Troilus armis, infelix puer atque impar congressus Achilli, fertur equis, curruque haeret resupinus inani, lora tenens tamen; huic cervixque comaeque trahuntur per terram, et versa pulvis inscribitur hasta. Interea ad templum non aequae Palladis ibant crinibus Iliades passis peplumque ferebant, suppliciter tristes et tunsae pectora palmis;
diva solo fixos oculos aversa tenebat. Ter circum Iliacos raptaverat Hectora muros, exanimumque auro corpus vendebat Achilles. Tum vero ingentem gemitum dat pectore ab imo, ut spolia, ut currus, utque ipsum corpus amici, tendentemque manus Priamum conspexit inermis. Se quoque principibus permixtum adgnovit Achivis, Eoasque acies et nigri Memnonis arma. Ducit Amazonidum lunatis agmina peltis Penthesilea furens, mediisque in milibus ardet, aurea subnectens exsertae cingula mammae, bellatrix, audetque viris concurrere virgo.
Haec dum Dardanio Aeneae miranda videntur, dum stupet, obtutuque haeret defixus in uno, regina ad templum, forma pulcherrima Dido, incessit magna iuvenum stipante caterva. Qualis in Eurotae ripis aut per iuga Cynthi exercet Diana choros, quam mille secutae hinc atque hinc glomerantur oreades; illa pharetram fert umero, gradiensque deas supereminet omnis: Latonae tacitum pertemptant gaudia pectus: talis erat Dido, talem se laeta ferebat per medios, instans operi regnisque futuris. Tum foribus divae, media testudine templi,
saepta armis, solioque alte subnixa resedit. Iura dabat legesque viris, operumque laborem partibus aequabat iustis, aut sorte trahebat: cum subito Aeneas concursu accedere magno Anthea Sergestumque videt fortemque Cloanthum, Teucrorumque alios, ater quos aequore turbo dispulerat penitusque alias avexerat oras. Obstipuit simul ipse simul perculsus Achates laetitiaque metuque; avidi coniungere dextras ardebant; sed res animos incognita turbat. Dissimulant, et nube cava speculantur amicti, quae fortuna viris, classem quo litore linquant,
quid veniant; cunctis nam lecti navibus ibant, orantes veniam, et templum clamore petebant. Postquam introgressi et coram data copia fandi, maxumus Ilioneus placido sic pectore coepit: O Regina, novam cui condere Iuppiter urbem iustitiaque dedit gentis frenare superbas, Troes te miseri, ventis maria omnia vecti, oramus, prohibe infandos a navibus ignis, parce pio generi, et propius res aspice nostras. Non nos aut ferro Libycos populare Penatis venimus, aut raptas ad litora vertere praedas; non ea vis animo, nec tanta superbia victis.
Est locus, Hesperiam Grai cognomine dicunt, terra antiqua, potens armis atque ubere glaebae; Oenotri coluere viri; nunc fama minores Italiam dixisse ducis de nomine gentem. Hic cursus fuit: cum subito adsurgens fluctu nimbosus Orion in vada caeca tulit, penitusque procacibus austris perque undas, superante salo, perque invia saxa dispulit; huc pauci vestris adnavimus oris. Quod genus hoc hominum? Quaeve hunc tam barbara morem permittit patria? Hospitio prohibemur harenae; bella cient, primaque vetant consistere terra.
Si genus humanum et mortalia temnitis arma at sperate deos memores fandi atque nefandi. Rex erat Aeneas nobis, quo iustior alter, nec pietate fuit, nec bello maior et armis. Quem si fata virum servant, si vescitur aura aetheria, neque adhuc crudelibus occubat umbris, non metus; officio nec te certasse priorem paeniteat. Sunt et Siculis regionibus urbes arvaque, Troianoque a sanguine clarus Acestes. Quassatam ventis liceat subducere classem, et silvis aptare trabes et stringere remos: si datur Italiam, sociis et rege recepto,
tendere, ut Italiam laeti Latiumque petamus; sin absumpta salus, et te, pater optume Teucrum, pontus habet Lybiae, nec spes iam restat Iuli, at freta Sicaniae saltem sedesque paratas, unde huc advecti, regemque petamus Acesten. Talibus Ilioneus; cuncti simul ore fremebant Dardanidae. Tum breviter Dido, voltum demissa, profatur: Solvite corde metum, Teucri, secludite curas. Res dura et regni novitas me talia cogunt moliri, et late finis custode tueri. Quis genus Aeneadum, quis Troiae nesciat urbem,
virtutesque virosque, aut tanti incendia belli? Non obtusa adeo gestamus pectora Poeni, nec tam aversus equos Tyria Sol iungit ab urbe. Seu vos Hesperiam magnam Saturniaque arva, sive Erycis finis regemque optatis Acesten, auxilio tutos dimittam, opibusque iuvabo. Voltis et his mecum pariter considere regnis; urbem quam statuo vestra est, subducite navis; Tros Tyriusque mihi nullo discrimine agetur. Atque utinam rex ipse Noto compulsus eodem adforet Aeneas! Equidem per litora certos dimittam et Libyae lustrare extrema iubebo,
si quibus eiectus silvis aut urbibus errat. His animum arrecti dictis et fortis Achates et pater Aeneas iamdudum erumpere nubem ardebant. Prior Aenean compellat Achates: Nate dea, quae nunc animo sententia surgit? omnia tuta vides, classem sociosque receptos. Unus abest, medio in fluctu quem vidimus ipsi submersum; dictis respondent cetera matris. Vix ea fatus erat, cum circumfusa repente scindit se nubes et in aethera purgat apertum. Restitit Aeneas claraque in luce refulsit, os umerosque deo similis; namque ipsa decoram
caesariem nato genetrix lumenque iuventae purpureum et laetos oculis adflarat honores: quale manus addunt ebori decus, aut ubi flavo argentum Pariusve lapis circumdatur auro. Tum sic reginam adloquitur, cunctisque repente improvisus ait: Coram, quem quaeritis, adsum, Troius Aeneas, Lybicis ereptus ab undis. O sola infandos Troiae miserata labores, quae nos, reliquias Danaum, terraeque marisque omnibus exhaustos iam casibus, omnium egenos, urbe, domo, socias, grates persolvere dignas non opis est nostrae, Dido, nec quicquid ubique est
gentis Dardaniae, magnum quae sparsa per orbem. Di tibi, si qua pios respectant numina, si quid usquam iustitia est et mens sibi conscia recti, praemia digna ferant. Quae te tam laeta tulerunt saecula? Qui tanti talem genuere parentes? In freta dum fluvii current, dum montibus umbrae lustrabunt convexa, polus dum sidera pascet, semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt, quae me cumque vocant terrae. Sic fatus, amicum Ilionea petit dextra, laevaque Serestum, post alios, fortemque Gyan fortemque Cloanthum. Obstipuit primo aspectu Sidonia Dido,
casu deinde viri tanto, et sic ore locuta est: Quis te, nate dea, per tanta pericula casus insequitur? Quae vis immanibus applicat oris? Tune ille Aeneas, quem Dardanio Anchisae alma Venus Phrygii genuit Simoentis ad undam? Atque equidem Teucrum memini Sidona venire finibus expulsum patriis, nova regna petentem auxilio Beli; genitor tum Belus opimam vastabat Cyprum, et victor dicione tenebat. Tempore iam ex illo casus mihi cognitus urbis Troianae nomenque tuum regesque Pelasgi. Ipse hostis Teucros insigni laude ferebat,
seque ortum antiqua Teucrorum ab stirpe volebat. Quare agite, O tectis, iuvenes, succedite nostris. Me quoque per multos similis fortuna labores iactatam hac demum voluit consistere terra. Non ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco. Sic memorat; simul Aenean in regia ducit tecta, simul divom templis indicit honorem. Nec minus interea sociis ad litora mittit viginti tauros, magnorum horrentia centum terga suum, pinguis centum cum matribus agnos, munera laetitiamque dii. At domus interior regali splendida luxu
instruitur, mediisque parant convivia tectis: arte laboratae vestes ostroque superbo, ingens argentum mensis, caelataque in auro fortia facta patrum, series longissima rerum per tot ducta viros antiqua ab origine gentis. Aeneas (neque enim patrius consistere mentem passus amor) rapidum ad navis praemittit Achaten, Ascanio ferat haec, ipsumque ad moenia ducat; omnis in Ascanio cari stat cura parentis. Munera praeterea, Iliacis erepta ruinis, ferre iubet, pallam signis auroque rigentem, et circumtextum croceo velamen acantho,
ornatus Argivae Helenae, quos illa Mycenis, Pergama cum peteret inconcessosque hymenaeos, extulerat, matris Ledae mirabile donum: praeterea sceptrum, Ilione quod gesserat olim, maxima natarum Priami, colloque monile bacatum, et duplicem gemmis auroque coronam. Haec celerans ita ad naves tendebat Achates. At Cytherea novas artes, nova pectore versat Consilia, ut faciem mutatus et ora Cupido pro dulci Ascanio veniat, donisque furentem incendat reginam, atque ossibus implicet ignem; quippe domum timet ambiguam Tyriosque bilinguis;
urit atrox Iuno, et sub noctem cura recursat. Ergo his aligerum dictis adfatur Amorem: Nate, meae vires, mea magna potentia solus, nate, patris summi qui tela Typhoia temnis, ad te confugio et supplex tua numina posco. Frater ut Aeneas pelago tuus omnia circum litora iactetur odiis Iunonis iniquae, nota tibi, et nostro doluisti saepe dolore. Hunc Phoenissa tenet Dido blandisque moratur vocibus; et vereor, quo se Iunonia vertant hospitia; haud tanto cessabit cardine rerum. Quocirca capere ante dolis et cingere flamma
reginam meditor, ne quo se numine mutet, sed magno Aeneae mecum teneatur amore. Qua facere id possis, nostram nunc accipe mentem. Regius accitu cari genitoris ad urbem Sidoniam puer ire parat, mea maxima cura, dona ferens, pelago et flammis restantia Troiae: hunc ego sopitum somno super alta Cythera aut super Idalium sacrata sede recondam, ne qua scire dolos mediusve occurrere possit. Tu faciem illius noctem non amplius unam falle dolo, et notos pueri puer indue voltus, ut, cum te gremio accipiet laetissima Dido
regalis inter mensas laticemque Lyaeum, cum dabit amplexus atque oscula dulcia figet, occultum inspires ignem fallasque veneno. Paret Amor dictis carae genetricis, et alas exuit, et gressu gaudens incedit Iuli. At Venus Ascanio placidam per membra quietem inrigat, et fotum gremio dea tollit in altos Idaliae lucos, ubi mollis amaracus illum floribus et dulci adspirans complectitur umbra. Iamque ibat dicto parens et dona Cupido regia portabat Tyriis, duce laetus Achate. Cum venit, aulaeis iam se regina superbis
aurea composuit sponda mediamque locavit. Iam pater Aeneas et iam Troiana iuventus conveniunt, stratoque super discumbitur ostro. Dant famuli manibus lymphas, Cereremque canistris expediunt, tonsisque ferunt mantelia villis. Quinquaginta intus famulae, quibus ordine longam cura penum struere, et flammis adolere Penatis; centum aliae totidemque pares aetate ministri, qui dapibus mensas onerent et pocula ponant. Nec non et Tyrii per limina laeta frequentes convenere, toris iussi discumbere pictis. Mirantur dona Aeneae, mirantur Iulum
flagrantisque dei voltus simulataque verba, Praecipue infelix, pesti devota futurae, expleri mentem nequit ardescitque tuendo Phoenissa, et pariter puero donisque movetur. Ille ubi complexu Aeneae colloque pependit et magnum falsi implevit genitoris amorem, reginam petit haec oculis, haec pectore toto haeret et interdum gremio fovet, inscia Dido, insidat quantus miserae deus; at memor ille matris Acidaliae paulatim abolere Sychaeum incipit, et vivo temptat praevertere amore iam pridem resides animos desuetaque corda.
Postquam prima quies epulis, mensaeque remotae, crateras magnos statuunt et vina coronant. Fit strepitus tectis, vocemque per ampla volutant atria; dependent lychni laquearibus aureis incensi, et noctem flammis funalia vincunt. Hic regina gravem gemmis auroque poposcit implevitque mero pateram, quam Belus et omnes a Belo soliti; tum facta silentia tectis: Iuppiter, hospitibus nam te dare iura loquuntur, hunc laetum Tyriisque diem Troiaque profectis esse velis, nostrosque huius meminisse minores. Adsit laetitiae Bacchus dator, et bona Iuno;
et vos, O, coetum, Tyrii, celebrate faventes. Dixit, et in mensam laticum libavit honorem, primaque, libato, summo tenus attigit ore, tum Bitiae dedit increpitans; ille impiger hausit spumantem pateram, et pleno se proluit auro post alii proceres. Cithara crinitus Iopas personat aurata, docuit quem maximus Atlas. Hic canit errantem lunam solisque labores; unde hominum genus et pecudes; unde imber et ignes; Arcturum pluviasque Hyadas geminosque Triones; quid tantum Oceano properent se tinguere soles hiberni, vel quae tardis mora noctibus obstet.
Ingeminant plausu Tyrii, Troesque sequuntur. Nec non et vario noctem sermone trahebat infelix Dido, longumque bibebat amorem, multa super Priamo rogitans, super Hectore multa; nunc quibus Aurorae venisset filius armis, nunc quales Diomedis equi, nunc quantus Achilles. Immo age, et a prima dic, hospes, origine nobis insidias, inquit, Danaum, casusque tuorum, erroresque tuos; nam te iam septima portat omnibus errantem terris et fluctibus aestas.
Book 2
Conticuere omnes, intentique ora tenebant. Inde toro pater Aeneas sic orsus ab alto: Infandum, regina, iubes renovare dolorem, Troianas ut opes et lamentabile regnum eruerint Danai; quaeque ipse miserrima vidi, et quorum pars magna fui. Quis talia fando Myrmidonum Dolopumve aut duri miles Ulixi temperet a lacrimis? Et iam nox umida caelo praecipitat, suadentque cadentia sidera somnos. Sed si tantus amor casus cognoscere nostros et breviter Troiae supremum audire laborem, quamquam animus meminisse horret, luctuque refugit,
incipiam.Fracti bello fatisque repulsi ductores Danaum, tot iam labentibus annis, instar montis equum divina Palladis arte aedificant, sectaque intexunt abiete costas: votum pro reditu simulant; ea fama vagatur. Huc delecta virum sortiti corpora furtim includunt caeco lateri, penitusque cavernas ingentis uterumque armato milite complent. Est in conspectu Tenedos, notissima fama insula, dives opum, Priami dum regna manebant, nunc tantum sinus et statio male fida carinis: huc se provecti deserto in litore condunt.
Nos abiisse rati et vento petiisse Mycenas: ergo omnis longo solvit se Teucria luctu; panduntur portae; iuvat ire et Dorica castra desertosque videre locos litusque relictum. Hic Dolopum manus, hic saevus tendebat Achilles; classibus hic locus; hic acie certare solebant. Pars stupet innuptae donum exitiale Minervae, et molem mirantur equi; primusque Thymoetes duci intra muros hortatur et arce locari, sive dolo, seu iam Troiae sic fata ferebant. At Capys, et quorum melior sententia menti, aut pelago Danaum insidias suspectaque dona
praecipitare iubent, subiectisque urere flammis, aut terebrare cavas uteri et temptare latebras. Scinditur incertum studia in contraria volgus. Primus ibi ante omnis, magna comitante caterva, Laocoön ardens summa decurrit ab arce, et procul: O miseri, quae tanta insania, cives? Creditis avectos hostis? Aut ulla putatis dona carere dolis Danaum? Sic notus Ulixes? aut hoc inclusi ligno occultantur Achivi, aut haec in nostros fabricata est machina muros inspectura domos venturaque desuper urbi, aut aliquis latet error; equo ne credite, Teucri.
Quicquid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentis. Sic fatus, validis ingentem viribus hastam in latus inque feri curvam compagibus alvum contorsit: stetit illa tremens, uteroque recusso insonuere cavae gemitumque dedere cavernae. Et, si fata deum, si mens non laeva fuisset, impulerat ferro Argolicas foedare latebras, Troiaque, nunc stares, Priamique arx alta, maneres. Ecce, manus iuvenem interea post terga revinctum pastores magno ad regem clamore trahebant Dardanidae, qui se ignotum venientibus ultro, hoc ipsum ut strueret Troiamque aperiret Achivis,
obtulerat, fidens animi atque in utrumque paratus, seu versare dolos, seu certae occumbere morti. Undique visendi studio Troiana iuventus circumfusa ruit, certantque inludere capto. Accipe nunc Danaum insidias, et crimine ab uno disce omnes. Namque ut conspectu in medio turbatus, inermis constitit atque oculis Phrygia agmina circumspexit: Heu, quae nunc tellus inquit quae me aequora possunt accipere? Aut quid iam misero mihi denique restat, cui neque apud Danaos usquam locus, et super ipsi Dardanidae infensi poenas cum sanguine poscunt?
Quo gemitu conversi animi, compressus et omnis impetus. Hortamur fari; quo sanguine cretus, quidve ferat, memoret, quae sit fiducia capto. Cuncta equidem tibi, Rex, fuerit quodcumque, fatebor vera, inquit; neque me Argolica de gente negabo: hoc primum; nec, si miserum Fortuna Sinonem finxit, vanum etiam mendacemque improba finget. Fando aliquod si forte tuas pervenit ad auris Belidae nomen Palamedis et incluta fama gloria, quem falsa sub proditione Pelasgi insontem infando indicio, quia bella vetabat, demisere neci, nunc cassum lumine lugent.
Illi me comitem et consanguinitate propinquum pauper in arma pater primis huc misit ab annis, dum stabat regno incolumis regumque vigebat consiliis, et nos aliquod nomenque decusque gessimus. Invidia postquam pellacis Ulixi— haud ignota loquor—superis concessit ab oris, adflictus vitam in tenebris luctuque trahebam, et casum insontis mecum indignabar amici. Nec tacui demens, et me, fors si qua tulisset, si patrios umquam remeassem victor ad Argos, promisi ultorem, et verbis odia aspera movi. Hinc mihi prima mali labes, hinc semper Ulixes
criminibus terrere novis, hinc spargere voces in volgum ambiguas, et quaerere conscius arma. Nec requievit enim, donec, Calchante ministro— sed quid ego haec autem nequiquam ingrata revolvo? Quidve moror, si omnis uno ordine habetis Achivos, idque audire sat est? Iamdudum sumite poenas, hoc Ithacus velit, et magno mercentur Atridae. Tum vero ardemus scitari et quaerere causas, ignari scelerum tantorum artisque Pelasgae. Prosequitur pavitans, et ficto pectore fatur: Saepe fugam Danai Troia cupiere relicta moliri, et longo fessi discedere bello;
fecissentque utinam! Saepe illos aspera ponti interclusit hiemps, et terruit Auster euntis. Praecipue, cum iam hic trabibus contextus acernis staret equus, toto sonuerunt aethere nimbi. Suspensi Eurypylum scitantem oracula Phoebi mittimus, isque adytis haec tristia dicta reportat: Sanguine placastis ventos et virgine caesa, cum primum Iliacas, Danai, venistis ad oras; sanguine quaerendi reditus, animaque litandum Argolica. Volgi quae vox ut venit ad auris, obstipuere animi, gelidusque per ima cucurrit ossa tremor, cui fata parent, quem poscat Apollo.
Hic Ithacus vatem magno Calchanta tumultu protrahit in medios; quae sint ea numina divom, flagitat; et mihi iam multi crudele canebant artificis scelus, et taciti ventura videbant. Bis quinos silet ille dies, tectusque recusat prodere voce sua quemquam aut opponere morti. Vix tandem, magnis Ithaci clamoribus actus, composito rumpit vocem, et me destinat arae. Adsensere omnes, et, quae sibi quisque timebat, unius in miseri exitium conversa tulere. Iamque dies infanda aderat; mihi sacra parari, et salsae fruges, et circum tempora vittae:
eripui, fateor, leto me, et vincula rupi, limosoque lacu per noctem obscurus in ulva delitui, dum vela darent, si forte dedissent. Nec mihi iam patriam antiquam spes ulla videndi, nec dulcis natos exoptatumque parentem; quos illi fors et poenas ob nostra reposcent effugia, et culpam hanc miserorum morte piabunt. Quod te per superos et conscia numina veri, per si qua est quae restet adhuc mortalibus usquam intemerata fides, oro, miserere laborum tantorum, miserere animi non digna ferentis. His lacrimis vitam damus, et miserescimus ultro.
Ipse viro primus manicas atque arta levari vincla iubet Priamus, dictisque ita fatur amicis: Quisquis es, amissos hinc iam obliviscere Graios; noster eris, mihique haec edissere vera roganti: Quo molem hanc immanis equi statuere? Quis auctor? Quidve petunt? Quae religio, aut quae machina belli? Dixerat. Ille, dolis instructus et arte Pelasga, sustulit exutas vinclis ad sidera palmas: Vos, aeterni ignes, et non violabile vestrum testor numen ait vos arae ensesque nefandi, quos fugi, vittaeque deum, quas hostia gessi: fas mihi Graiorum sacrata resolvere iura,
fas odisse viros, atque omnia ferre sub auras, si qua tegunt; teneor patriae nec legibus ullis. Tu modo promissis maneas, servataque serves Troia fidem, si vera feram, si magna rependam. Omnis spes Danaum et coepti fiducia belli Palladis auxiliis semper stetit. Impius ex quo Tydides sed enim scelerumque inventor Ulixes, fatale adgressi sacrato avellere templo Palladium, caesis summae custodibus arcis, corripuere sacram effigiem, manibusque cruentis virgineas ausi divae contingere vittas; ex illo fluere ac retro sublapsa referri
spes Danaum, fractae vires, aversa deae mens. Nec dubiis ea signa dedit Tritonia monstris. Vix positum castris simulacrum, arsere coruscae luminibus flammae arrectis, salsusque per artus sudor iit, terque ipsa solo—mirabile dictu— emicuit, parmamque ferens hastamque trementem. Extemplo temptanda fuga canit aequora Calchas, nec posse Argolicis exscindi Pergama telis, omina ni repetant Argis, numenque reducant, quod pelago et curvis secum avexere carinis. Et nunc, quod patrias vento petiere Mycenas, arma deosque parant comites, pelagoque remenso
improvisi aderunt: ita digerit omina Calchas. Hanc pro Palladio moniti, pro numine laeso effigiem statuere, nefas quae triste piaret. Hanc tamen immensam Calchas attollere molem roboribus textis caeloque educere iussit, ne recipi portis, aut duci in moenia possit, neu populum antiqua sub religione tueri. Nam si vestra manus violasset dona Minervae, tum magnum exitium (quod di prius omen in ipsum convertant!) Priami imperio Phrygibusque futurum; sin manibus vestris vestram ascendisset in urbem, ultro Asiam magno Pelopea ad moenia bello
venturam, et nostros ea fata manere nepotes. Talibus insidiis periurique arte Sinonis credita res, captique dolis lacrimisque coactis, quos neque Tydides, nec Larisaeus Achilles, non anni domuere decem, non mille carinae. Hic aliud maius miseris multoque tremendum obicitur magis, atque improvida pectora turbat. Laocoön, ductus Neptuno sorte sacerdos, sollemnis taurum ingentem mactabat ad aras. Ecce autem gemini a Tenedo tranquilla per alta— horresco referens—immensis orbibus angues incumbunt pelago, pariterque ad litora tendunt;
pectora quorum inter fluctus arrecta iubaeque sanguineae superant undas; pars cetera pontum pone legit, sinuatque immensa volumine terga. Fit sonitus spumante salo; iamque arva tenebant, ardentisque oculos suffecti sanguine et igni, sibila lambebant linguis vibrantibus ora. Diffugimus visu exsangues: illi agmine certo Laocoönta petunt; et primum parva duorum corpora natorum serpens amplexus uterque implicat, et miseros morsu depascitur artus; post ipsum auxilio subeuntem ac tela ferentem corripiunt, spirisque ligant ingentibus; et iam
bis medium amplexi, bis collo squamea circum terga dati, superant capite et cervicibus altis. Ille simul manibus tendit divellere nodos, perfusus sanie vittas atroque veneno, clamores simul horrendos ad sidera tollit: quales mugitus, fugit cum saucius aram taurus, et incertam excussit cervice securim. At gemini lapsu delubra ad summa dracones effugiunt saevaeque petunt Tritonidis arcem, sub pedibusque deae clipeique sub orbe teguntur. Tum vero tremefacta novus per pectora cunctis insinuat pavor, et scelus expendisse merentem
Laocoönta ferunt, sacrum qui cuspide robur laeserit, et tergo sceleratam intorserit hastam. Ducendum ad sedes simulacrum orandaque divae numina conclamant. Dividimus muros et moenia pandimus urbis. Accingunt omnes operi, pedibusque rotarum subiciunt lapsus, et stuppea vincula collo intendunt: scandit fatalis machina muros, feta armis. Pueri circum innuptaeque puellae sacra canunt, funemque manu contingere gaudent. Illa subit, mediaeque minans inlabitur urbi. O patria, O divom domus Ilium, et incluta bello
moenia Dardanidum, quater ipso in limine portae substitit, atque utero sonitum quater arma dedere: instamus tamen inmemores caecique furore, et monstrum infelix sacrata sistimus arce. Tunc etiam fatis aperit Cassandra futuris ora, dei iussu non umquam credita Teucris. Nos delubra deum miseri, quibus ultimus esset ille dies, festa velamus fronde per urbem. Vertitur interea caelum et ruit oceano nox, involvens umbra magna terramque polumque Myrmidonumque dolos; fusi per moenia Teucri conticuere, sopor fessos complectitur artus:
et iam Argiva phalanx instructis navibus ibat a Tenedo tacitae per amica silentia lunae litora nota petens, flammas cum regia puppis extulerat, fatisque deum defensus iniquis inclusos utero Danaos et pinea furtim laxat claustra Sinon. Illos patefactus ad auras reddit equus, laetique cavo se robore promunt Thessandrus Sthenelusque duces, et dirus Ulixes, demissum lapsi per funem, Acamasque, Thoasque, Pelidesque Neoptolemus, primusque Machaon, et Menelaus, et ipse doli fabricator Epeos. Invadunt urbem somno vinoque sepultam;
caeduntur vigiles, portisque patentibus omnis accipiunt socios atque agmina conscia iungunt. Tempus erat, quo prima quies mortalibus aegris incipit, et dono divom gratissima serpit. In somnis, ecce, ante oculos maestissimus Hector visus adesse mihi, largosque effundere fletus, raptatus bigis, ut quondam, aterque cruento pulvere, perque pedes traiectus lora tumentis. Ei mihi, qualis erat, quantum mutatus ab illo Hectore, qui redit exuvias indutus Achilli, vel Danaum Phrygios iaculatus puppibus ignis, squalentem barbam et concretos sanguine crinis
volneraque illa gerens, quae circum plurima muros accepit patrios. Ultro flens ipse videbar Compellare virum et maestas expromere voces: O lux Dardaniae, spes O fidissima Teucrum, quae tantae tenuere morae? Quibus Hector ab oris exspectate venis? Ut te post multa tuorum funera, post varios hominumque urbisque labores defessi aspicimus! Quae causa indigna serenos foedavit voltus? Aut cur haec volnera cerno? Ille nihil, nec me quaerentem vana moratur, sed graviter gemitus imo de pectore ducens, Heu fuge, nate dea, teque his, ait, eripe flammis.
Hostis habet muros; ruit alto a culmine Troia. Sat patriae Priamoque datum: si Pergama dextra defendi possent, etiam hac defensa fuissent. Sacra suosque tibi commendat Troia penatis: hos cape fatorum comites, his moenia quaere magna, pererrato statues quae denique ponto. Sic ait, et manibus vittas Vestamque potentem aeternumque adytis effert penetralibus ignem. Diverso interea miscentur moenia luctu, et magis atque magis, quamquam secreta parentis Anchisae domus arboribusque obtecta recessit, clarescunt sonitus, armorumque ingruit horror.
Excutior somno, et summi fastigia tecti ascensu supero, atque arrectis auribus adsto: in segetem veluti cum flamma furentibus austris incidit, aut rapidus montano flumine torrens sternit agros, sternit sata laeta boumque labores, praecipitisque trahit silvas, stupet inscius alto accipiens sonitum saxi de vertice pastor. Tum vero manifesta fides, Danaumque patescunt insidiae. Iam Deiphobi dedit ampla ruinam Volcano superante domus; iam proxumus ardet Ucalegon; Sigea igni freta lata relucent. Exoritur clamorque virum clangorque tubarum.
Arma amens capio; nec sat rationis in armis, sed glomerare manum bello et concurrere in arcem cum sociis ardent animi; furor iraque mentem praecipitant, pulchrumque mori succurrit in armis. Ecce autem telis Panthus elapsus Achivom, Panthus Othryades, arcis Phoebique sacerdos, sacra manu victosque deos parvumque nepotem ipse trahit, cursuque amens ad limina tendit. Quo res summa, loco, Panthu? Quam prendimus arcem? Vix ea fatus eram, gemitu cum talia reddit: Venit summa dies et ineluctabile tempus Dardaniae: fuimus Troes, fuit Ilium et ingens
gloria Teucrorum; ferus omnia Iuppiter Argos transtulit; incensa Danai dominantur in urbe. Arduus armatos mediis in moenibus adstans fundit equus, victorque Sinon incendia miscet insultans; portis alii bipatentibus adsunt, milia quot magnis umquam venere Mycenis; obsedere alii telis angusta viarum oppositi; stat ferri acies mucrone corusco stricta, parata neci; vix primi proelia temptant portarum vigiles, et caeco Marte resistunt. Talibus Othryadae dictis et numine divom in flammas et in arma feror, quo tristis Erinys,
quo fremitus vocat et sublatus ad aethera clamor. Addunt se socios Rhipeus et maximus armis Epytus oblati per lunam Hypanisque Dymasque, et lateri adglomerant nostro, iuvenisque Coroebus, Mygdonides: illis ad Troiam forte diebus venerat, insano Cassandrae incensus amore, et gener auxilium Priamo Phrygibusque ferebat, infelix, qui non sponsae praecepta furentis audierit. Quos ubi confertos audere in proelia vidi, incipio super his: Iuvenes, fortissima frustra pectora, si vobis audentem extrema cupido
certa sequi, quae sit rebus fortuna videtis: excessere omnes, adytis arisque relictis, di, quibus imperium hoc steterat; succurritis urbi incensae; moriamur et in media arma ruamus. Una salus victis, nullam sperare salutem. Sic animis iuvenum furor additus: inde, lupi ceu raptores atra in nebula, quos improba ventris exegit caecos rabies, catulique relicti faucibus exspectant siccis, per tela, per hostis vadimus haud dubiam in mortem, mediaeque tenemus urbis iter; nox atra cava circumvolat umbra. Quis cladem illius noctis, quis funera fando
explicet, aut possit lacrimis aequare labores? Urbs antiqua ruit, multos dominata per annos; plurima perque vias sternuntur inertia passim corpora, perque domos et religiosa deorum limina. Nec soli poenas dant sanguine Teucri; quondam etiam victis redit in praecordia virtus victoresque cadunt Danai: crudelis ubique luctus, ubique pavor, et plurima mortis imago. Primus se, Danaum magna comitante caterva, Androgeos offert nobis, socia agmina credens inscius, atque ultro verbis compellat amicis: Festinate, viri: nam quae tam sera moratur
segnities? Alii rapiunt incensa feruntque Pergama; vos celsis nunc primum a navibus itis. Dixit, et extemplo, neque enim responsa dabantur fida satis, sensit medios delapsus in hostis. Obstipuit, retroque pedem cum voce repressit: inprovisum aspris veluti qui sentibus anguem pressit humi nitens, trepidusque repente refugit attollentem iras et caerula colla tumentem; haud secus Androgeos visu tremefactus abibat. Inruimus, densis et circumfundimur armis, ignarosque loci passim et formidine captos sternimus: adspirat primo fortuna labori.
Atque hic successu exsultans animisque Coroebus, O socii, qua prima inquit fortuna salutis monstrat iter, quoque ostendit se dextra, sequamur mutemus clipeos, Danaumque insignia nobis aptemus: dolus an virtus, quis in hoste requirat? Arma dabunt ipsi. Sic fatus, deinde comantem Androgei galeam clipeique insigne decorum induitur, laterique Argivum accommodat ensem. Hoc Rhipeus, hoc ipse Dymas omnisque iuventus laeta facit; spoliis se quisque recentibus armat. Vadimus immixti Danais haud numine nostro, multaque per caecam congressi proelia noctem
conserimus, multos Danaum demittimus Orco. Diffugiunt alii ad navis, et litora cursu fida petunt: pars ingentem formidine turpi scandunt rursus equum et nota conduntur in alvo. Heu nihil invitis fas quemquam fidere divis! Ecce trahebatur passis Priameïa virgo crinibus a templo Cassandra adytisque Minervae, ad caelum tendens ardentia lumina frustra,— lumina, nam teneras arcebant vincula palmas. Non tulit hanc speciem furiata mente Coroebus, et sese medium iniecit periturus in agmen. Consequimur cuncti et densis incurrimus armis.
Hic primum ex alto delubri culmine telis nostrorum obruimur, oriturque miserrima caedes armorum facie et Graiarum errore iubarum. Tum Danai gemitu atque ereptae virginis ira undique collecti invadunt, acerrimus Aiax, et gemini Atridae, Dolopumque exercitus omnis; adversi rupto ceu quondam turbine venti confligunt, Zephyrusque Notusque et laetus Eois Eurus equis; stridunt silvae, saevitque tridenti spumeus atque imo Nereus ciet aequora fundo. Illi etiam, si quos obscura nocte per umbram fudimus insidiis totaque agitavimus urbe,
apparent; primi clipeos mentitaque tela adgnoscunt, atque ora sono discordia signant. Ilicet obruimur numero; primusque Coroebus Penelei dextra divae armipotentis ad aram procumbit; cadit et Rhipeus, iustissimus unus qui fuit in Teucris et servantissimus aequi: dis aliter visum; pereunt Hypanisque Dymasque confixi a sociis; nec te tua plurima, Panthu, labentem pietas nec Apollinis infula texit. Iliaci cineres et flamma extrema meorum, testor, in occasu vestro nec tela nec ullas vitavisse vices Danaum, et, si fata fuissent
ut caderem, meruisse manu. Divellimur inde, Iphitus et Pelias mecum, quorum Iphitus aevo iam gravior, Pelias et volnere tardus Ulixi; protinus ad sedes Priami clamore vocati. Hic vero ingentem pugnam, ceu cetera nusquam bella forent, nulli tota morerentur in urbe. Sic Martem indomitum, Danaosque ad tecta ruentis cernimus, obsessumque acta testudine limen. Haerent parietibus scalae, postisque sub ipsos nituntur gradibus, clipeosque ad tela sinistris protecti obiciunt, prensant fastigia dextris. Dardanidae contra turris ac tota domorum
culmina convellunt; his se, quando ultima cernunt, extrema iam in morte parant defendere telis; auratasque trabes, veterum decora alta parentum, devolvunt; alii strictis mucronibus imas obsedere fores; has servant agmine denso. Instaurati animi, regis succurrere tectis, auxilioque levare viros, vimque addere victis. Limen erat caecaeque fores et pervius usus tectorum inter se Priami, postesque relicti a tergo, infelix qua se, dum regna manebant, saepius Andromache ferre incomitata solebat ad soceros, et avo puerum Astyanacta trahebat.
Evado ad summi fastigia culminis, unde tela manu miseri iactabant inrita Teucri. Turrim in praecipiti stantem summisque sub astra eductam tectis, unde omnis Troia videri et Danaum solitae naves et Achaia castra, adgressi ferro circum, qua summa labantis iuncturas tabulata dabant, convellimus altis sedibus, impulimusque; ea lapsa repente ruinam cum sonitu trahit et Danaum super agmina late incidit: ast alii subeunt, nec saxa, nec ullum telorum interea cessat genus. Vestibulum ante ipsum primoque in limine Pyrrhus
exsultat, telis et luce coruscus aëna; qualis ubi in lucem coluber mala gramina pastus frigida sub terra tumidum quem bruma tegebat, nunc, positis novus exuviis nitidusque iuventa, lubrica convolvit sublato pectore terga arduus ad solem, et linguis micat ore trisulcis. Una ingens Periphas et equorum agitator Achillis, armiger Automedon, una omnis Scyria pubes succedunt tecto, et flammas ad culmina iactant. Ipse inter primos correpta dura bipenni limina perrumpit, postisque a cardine vellit aeratos; iamque excisa trabe firma cavavit
robora, et ingentem lato dedit ore fenestram. Adparet domus intus, et atria longa patescunt; adparent Priami et veterum penetralia regum, armatosque vident stantis in limine primo. At domus interior gemitu miseroque tumultu miscetur, penitusque cavae plangoribus aedes femineis ululant; ferit aurea sidera clamor. Tum pavidae tectis matres ingentibus errant; amplexaeque tenent postis atque oscula figunt. Instat vi patria Pyrrhus; nec claustra, neque ipsi custodes sufferre valent; labat ariete crebro ianua, et emoti procumbunt cardine postes.
Fit via vi; rumpunt aditus, primosque trucidant immissi Danai, et late loca milite complent. Non sic, aggeribus ruptis cum spumeus amnis exiit, oppositasque evicit gurgite moles, fertur in arva furens cumulo, camposque per omnis cum stabulis armenta trahit. Vidi ipse furentem caede Neoptolemum geminosque in limine Atridas; vidi Hecubam centumque nurus, Priamumque per aras sanguine foedantem, quos ipse sacraverat, ignis. Quinquaginta illi thalami, spes tanta nepotum, barbarico postes auro spoliisque superbi, procubuere; tenent Danai, qua deficit ignis.
Forsitan et Priami fuerint quae fata requiras. Urbis uti captae casum convolsaque vidit limina tectorum et medium in penetralibus hostem, arma diu senior desueta trementibus aevo circumdat nequiquam umeris, et inutile ferrum cingitur, ac densos fertur moriturus in hostis. Aedibus in mediis nudoque sub aetheris axe ingens ara fuit iuxtaque veterrima laurus, incumbens arae atque umbra complexa Penatis. Hic Hecuba et natae nequiquam altaria circum, praecipites atra ceu tempestate columbae, condensae et divom amplexae simulacra sedebant.
Ipsum autem sumptis Priamum iuvenalibus armis ut vidit, Quae mens tam dira, miserrime coniunx, impulit his cingi telis? Aut quo ruis? inquit; Non tali auxilio nec defensoribus istis tempus eget, non, si ipse meus nunc adforet Hector. Huc tandem concede; haec ara tuebitur omnis, aut moriere simul. Sic ore effata recepit ad sese et sacra longaevum in sede locavit. Ecce autem elapsus Pyrrhi de caede Polites, unus natorum Priami, per tela, per hostis porticibus longis fugit, et vacua atria lustrat saucius: illum ardens infesto volnere Pyrrhus
insequitur, iam iamque manu tenet et premit hasta. Ut tandem ante oculos evasit et ora parentum, concidit, ac multo vitam cum sanguine fudit. Hic Priamus, quamquam in media iam morte tenetur, non tamen abstinuit, nec voci iraeque pepercit: At tibi pro scelere, exclamat, pro talibus ausis, di, si qua est caelo pietas, quae talia curet, persolvant grates dignas et praemia reddant debita, qui nati coram me cernere letum fecisti et patrios foedasti funere voltus. At non ille, satum quo te mentiris, Achilles talis in hoste fuit Priamo; sed iura fidemque
supplicis erubuit, corpusque exsangue sepulchro reddidit Hectoreum, meque in mea regna remisit. Sic fatus senior, telumque imbelle sine ictu coniecit, rauco quod protinus aere repulsum e summo clipei nequiquam umbone pependit. Cui Pyrrhus: Referes ergo haec et nuntius ibis Pelidae genitori; illi mea tristia facta degeneremque Neoptolemum narrare memento. Nunc morere. Hoc dicens altaria ad ipsa trementem traxit et in multo lapsantem sanguine nati, implicuitque comam laeva, dextraque coruscum extulit, ac lateri capulo tenus abdidit ensem.
Haec finis Priami fatorum; hic exitus illum sorte tulit, Troiam incensam et prolapsa videntem Pergama, tot quondam populis terrisque superbum regnatorem Asiae. Iacet ingens litore truncus, avolsumque umeris caput, et sine nomine corpus. At me tum primum saevus circumstetit horror Obstipui; subiit cari genitoris imago, ut regem aequaevum crudeli volnere vidi vitam exhalantem; subiit deserta Creüsa, et direpta domus, et parvi casus Iuli. Respicio, et quae sit me circum copia lustro. Deseruere omnes defessi, et corpora saltu
ad terram misere aut ignibus aegra dedere. cum mihi se, non ante oculis tam clara, videndam obtulit et pura per noctem in luce refulsit alma parens, confessa deam, qualisque videri caelicolis et quanta solet, dextraque prehensum continuit, roseoque haec insuper addidit ore: Nate, quis indomitas tantus dolor excitat iras? Quid furis, aut quonam nostri tibi cura recessit? Non prius aspicies, ubi fessum aetate parentem liqueris Anchisen; superet coniunxne Creüsa, Ascaniusque puer? Quos omnes undique Graiae circum errant acies, et, ni mea cura resistat,
iam flammae tulerint inimicus et hauserit ensis. Non tibi Tyndaridis facies invisa Lacaenae culpatusve Paris: divom inclementia, divom, has evertit opes sternitque a culmine Troiam. Aspice—namque omnem, quae nunc obducta tuenti mortalis hebetat visus tibi et umida circum caligat, nubem eripiam; tu ne qua parentis iussa time, neu praeceptis parere recusa:— hic, ubi disiectas moles avolsaque saxis saxa vides mixtoque undantem pulvere fumum. Neptunus muros magnoque emota tridenti fundamenta quatit, totamque a sedibus urbem
eruit; hic Iuno Scaeas saevissima portas prima tenet, sociumque furens a navibus agmen ferro accincta vocat. Iam summas arces Tritonia, respice, Pallas insedit, nimbo effulgens et Gorgone saeva. Ipse pater Danais animos viresque secundas sufficit, ipse deos in Dardana suscitat arma. Eripe, nate, fugam, finemque impone labori. Nusquam abero, et tutum patrio te limine sistam. Dixerat, et spissis noctis se condidit umbris. Adparent dirae facies inimicaque Troiae numina magna deum.
Tum vero omne mihi visum considere in ignis Ilium et ex imo verti Neptunia Troia; ac veluti summis antiquam in montibus ornum cum ferro accisam crebrisque bipennibus instant eruere agricolae certatim,—illa usque minatur et tremefacta comam concusso vertice nutat, volneribus donec paulatim evicta, supremum congemuit, traxitque iugis avolsa ruinam. Descendo, ac ducente deo flammam inter et hostis expedior; dant tela locum, flammaeque recedunt. Atque ubi iam patriae perventum ad limina sedis antiquasque domos, genitor, quem tollere in altos
optabam primum montis primumque petebam, abnegat excisa vitam producere Troia exsiliumque pati. Vos O, quibus integer aevi sanguis, ait solidaeque suo stant robore vires, vos agitate fugam: me si caelicolae voluissent ducere vitam, has mihi servassent sedes. Satis una superque vidimus exscidia et captae superavimus urbi. Sic O, sic positum adfati discedite corpus. Ipse manu mortem inveniam; miserebitur hostis exuviasque petet; facilis iactura sepulcri. Iam pridem invisus divis et inutilis annos
demoror, ex quo me divom pater atque hominum rex fulminis adflavit ventis et contigit igni. Talia perstabat memorans, fixusque manebat. Nos contra effusi lacrimis, coniunxque Creüsa Ascaniusque omnisque domus, ne vertere secum cuncta pater fatoque urguenti incumbere vellet. Abnegat, inceptoque et sedibus haeret in isdem. Rursus in arma feror, mortemque miserrimus opto: nam quod consilium aut quae iam fortuna dabatur? Mene efferre pedem, genitor, te posse relicto sperasti, tantumque nefas patrio excidit ore? Si nihil ex tanta Superis placet urbe relinqui,
et sedet hoc animo, perituraeque addere Troiae teque tuosque iuvat, patet isti ianua leto, iamque aderit multo Priami de sanguine Pyrrhus, natum ante ora patris, patrem qui obtruncat ad aras. Hoc erat, alma parens, quod me per tela, per ignis eripis, ut mediis hostem in penetralibus, utque Ascanium patremque meum iuxtaque Creüsam alterum in alterius mactatos sanguine cernam? Arma, viri, ferte arma; vocat lux ultima victos. Reddite me Danais; sinite instaurata revisam proelia: Numquam omnes hodie moriemur inulti. Hinc ferro accingor rursus clipeoque sinistram
insertabam aptans, meque extra tecta ferebam. Ecce autem complexa pedes in limine coniunx haerebat, parvumque patri tendebat Iulum: Si periturus abis, et nos rape in omnia tecum; sin aliquam expertus sumptis spem ponis in armis, hanc primum tutare domum. Cui parvus Iulus, cui pater et coniunx quondam tua dicta relinquor? Talia vociferans gemitu tectum omne replebat, cum subitum dictuque oritur mirabile monstrum. Namque manus inter maestorumque ora parentum ecce levis summo de vertice visus Iuli fundere lumen apex, tactuque innoxia mollis
lambere flamma comas et circum tempora pasci. Nos pavidi trepidare metu, crinemque flagrantem excutere et sanctos restinguere fontibus ignis. At pater Anchises oculos ad sidera laetus extulit, et caelo palmas cum voce tetendit: Iuppiter omnipotens, precibus si flecteris ullis, aspice nos; hoc tantum, et, si pietate meremur, da deinde auxilium, pater, atque haec omina firma. Vix ea fatus erat senior, subitoque fragore intonuit laevum, et de caelo lapsa per umbras stella facem ducens multa cum luce cucurrit. Illam, summa super labentem culmina tecti,
cernimus Idaea claram se condere silva signantemque vias; tum longo limite sulcus dat lucem, et late circum loca sulphure fumant. Hic vero victus genitor se tollit ad auras, adfaturque deos et sanctum sidus adorat. Iam iam nulla mora est; sequor et qua ducitis adsum. Di patrii, servate domum, servate nepotem. Vestrum hoc augurium, vestroque in numine Troia est. Cedo equidem, nec, nate, tibi comes ire recuso. Dixerat ille; et iam per moenia clarior ignis auditur, propiusque aestus incendia volvunt. Ergo age, care pater, cervici imponere nostrae;
ipse subibo umeris, nec me labor iste gravabit: quo res cumque cadent, unum et commune periclum, una salus ambobus erit. Mihi parvus Iulus sit comes, et longe servet vestigia coniunx: vos, famuli, quae dicam, animis advertite vestris. Est urbe egressis tumulus templumque vetustum desertae Cereris, iuxtaque antiqua cupressus religione patrum multos servata per annos. Hanc ex diverso sedem veniemus in unam. Tu, genitor, cape sacra manu patriosque Penatis; me, bello e tanto digressum et caede recenti, attrectare nefas, donec me flumine vivo
abluero. Haec fatus, latos umeros subiectaque colla veste super fulvique insternor pelle leonis, succedoque oneri; dextrae se parvus Iulus implicuit sequiturque patrem non passibus aequis; pone subit coniunx: ferimur per opaca locorum; et me, quem dudum non ulla iniecta movebant tela neque adverso glomerati ex agmine Grai, nunc omnes terrent aurae, sonus excitat omnis suspensum et pariter comitique onerique timentem. Iamque propinquabam portis, omnemque videbar evasisse viam, subito cum creber ad auris
visus adesse pedum sonitus, genitorque per umbram prospiciens; Nate exclamat, fuge nate, propinquant. Ardentis clipeos atque aera micantia cerno!— Hic mihi nescio quod trepido male numen amicum confusam eripuit mentem. Namque avia cursu dum sequor, et nota excedo regione viarum, heu, misero coniunx fatone erepta Creüsa substitit, erravitne via, seu lassa resedit, incertum; nec post oculis est reddita nostris. Nec prius amissam respexi animumque reflexi, quam tumulum antiquae Cereris sedemque sacratam venimus; hic demum collectis omnibus una
defuit, et comites natumque virumque fefellit. Quem non incusavi amens hominumque deorumque, aut quid in eversa vidi crudelius urbe? Ascanium Anchisenque patrem Teucrosque Penatis commendo sociis et curva valle recondo; ipse urbem repeto et cingor fulgentibus armis. Stat casus renovare omnis, omnemque reverti per Troiam, et rursus caput obiectare periclis. Principio muros obscuraque limina portae, qua gressum extuleram, repeto, et vestigia retro observata sequor per noctem et lumine lustro. Horror ubique animo, simul ipsa silentia terrent.
Inde domum, si forte pedem, si forte tulisset, me refero: inruerant Danai, et tectum omne tenebant. Ilicet ignis edax summa ad fastigia vento volvitur; exsuperant flammae, furit aestus ad auras. Procedo et Priami sedes arcemque reviso. Et iam porticibus vacuis Iunonis asylo custodes lecti Phoenix et dirus Ulixes praedam adservabant. Huc undique Troia gaza incensis erepta adytis, mensaeque deorum, crateresque auro solidi, captivaque vestis congeritur; pueri et pavidae longo ordine matres stant circum.
Ausus quin etiam voces iactare per umbram implevi clamore vias, maestusque Creüsam nequiquam ingeminans iterumque iterumque vocavi. Quaerenti et tectis urbis sine fine furenti infelix simulacrum atque ipsius umbra Creüsae visa mihi ante oculos et nota maior imago. Obstipui, steteruntque comae et vox faucibus haesit. Quid tantum insano iuvat indulgere dolori, O dulcis coniunx? Non haec sine numine divom eveniunt; nec te hinc comitem asportare Creüsam fas, aut ille sinit superi regnator Olympi. Longa tibi exsilia, et vastum maris aequor arandum,
et terram Hesperiam venies, ubi Lydius arva inter opima virum leni fluit agmine Thybris: illic res laetae regnumque et regia coniunx parta tibi. Lacrimas dilectae pelle Creüsae. Non ego Myrmidonum sedes Dolopumve superbas aspiciam, aut Graiis servitum matribus ibo, Dardanis, et divae Veneris nurus. Sed me magna deum genetrix his detinet oris: iamque vale, et nati serva communis amorem. Haec ubi dicta dedit, lacrimantem et multa volentem dicere deseruit, tenuisque recessit in auras. Ter conatus ibi collo dare bracchia circum:
ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago, par levibus ventis volucrique simillima somno. Sic demum socios consumpta nocte reviso. Atque hic ingentem comitum adfluxisse novorum invenio admirans numerum, matresque virosque, collectam exsilio pubem, miserabile volgus. Undique convenere, animis opibusque parati, in quascumque velim pelago deducere terras. Iamque iugis summae surgebat Lucifer Idae ducebatque diem, Danaique obsessa tenebant limina portarum, nec spes opis ulla dabatur; cessi, et sublato montes genitore petivi.
Book 3
Postquam res Asiae Priamique evertere gentem immeritam visum Superis, ceciditque superbum Ilium, et omnis humo fumat Neptunia Troia, diversa exsilia et desertas quaerere terras auguriis agimur divom, classemque sub ipsa Antandro et Phrygiae molimur montibus Idae, incerti, quo fata ferant, ubi sistere detur, contrahimusque viros. Vix prima inceperat aestas, et pater Anchises dare fatis vela iubebat; litora cum patriae lacrimans portusque relinquo et campos, ubi Troia fuit: feror exsul in altum cum sociis natoque Penatibus et magnis dis.
Terra procul vastis colitur Mavortia campis, Thraces arant, acri quondam regnata Lycurgo, hospitium antiquum Troiae sociique Penates, dum Fortuna fuit. Feror huc, et litore curvo moenia prima loco, fatis ingressus iniquis, Aeneadasque meo nomen de nomine fingo. Sacra Dionaeae matri divisque ferebam auspicibus coeptorum operum, superoque nitentem caelicolum regi mactabam in litore taurum. Forte fuit iuxta tumulus, quo cornea summo virgulta et densis hastilibus horrida myrtus. Accessi, viridemque ab humo convellere silvam
conatus, ramis tegerem ut frondentibus aras, horrendum et dictu video mirabile monstrum. Nam, quae prima solo ruptis radicibus arbos vellitur, huic atro liquuntur sanguine guttae, et terram tabo maculant. Mihi frigidus horror membra quatit, gelidusque coit formidine sanguis. Rursus et alterius lentum convellere vimen insequor, et causas penitus temptare latentis: ater et alterius sequitur de cortice sanguis. Multa movens animo nymphas venerabar agrestis Gradivumque patrem, Geticis qui praesidet arvis, rite secundarent visus omenque levarent.
Tertia sed postquam maiore hastilia nisu adgredior, genibusque adversae obluctor harenae— eloquar, an sileam?—gemitus lacrimabilis imo auditur tumulo, et vox reddita fertur ad auris: Quid miserum, Aenea, laceras? Iam parce sepulto; parce pias scelerare manus. Non me tibi Troia externum tulit, aut cruor hic de stipite manat. Heu, fuge crudelis terras, fuge litus avarum: nam Polydorus ego; hic confixum ferrea texit telorum seges et iaculis increvit acutis. Tum vero ancipiti mentem formidine pressus obstipui, steteruntque comae et vox faucibus haesit.
Hunc Polydorum auri quondam cum pondere magno infelix Priamus furtim mandarat alendum Threicio regi, cum iam diffideret armis Dardaniae, cingique urbem obsidione videret. Ille, ut opes fractae Teucrum, et Fortuna recessit, res Agamemnonias victriciaque arma secutus, fas omne abrumpit; Polydorum obtruncat, et auro vi potitur. Quid non mortalia pectora cogis, auri sacra fames? Postquam pavor ossa reliquit, delectos populi ad proceres primumque parentem monstra deum refero, et quae sit sententia posco. Omnibus idem animus, scelerata excedere terra,
linqui pollutum hospitium, et dare classibus austros. Ergo instauramus Polydoro funus, et ingens aggeritur tumulo tellus; stant Manibus arae, caeruleis maestae vittis atraque cupresso, et circum Iliades crinem de more solutae; inferimus tepido spumantia cymbia lacte sanguinis et sacri pateras, animamque sepulchro condimus, et magna supremum voce ciemus. Inde, ubi prima fides pelago, placataque venti dant maria et lenis crepitans vocat Auster in altum, deducunt socii navis et litora complent: provehimur portu, terraeque urbesque recedunt.
Sacra mari colitur medio gratissima tellus Nereidum matri et Neptuno Aegaeo, quam pius arquitenens oras et litora circum errantem Mycono e celsa Gyaroque revinxit, immotamque coli dedit et contemnere ventos. Huc feror; haec fessos tuto placidissima portu accipit: egressi veneramur Apollinis urbem. Rex Anius, rex idem hominum Phoebique sacerdos vittis et sacra redimitus tempora lauro, occurrit; veterem Anchisen adgnovit amicum. Iungimus hospitio dextras, et tecta subimus. Templa dei saxo venerabar structa vetusto:
Da propriam, Thymbraee, domum; da moenia fessis et genus et mansuram urbem; serva altera Troiae Pergama, reliquias Danaum atque immitis Achilli. Quem sequimur? Quove ire iubes? Ubi ponere sedes? Da, pater, augurium, atque animis inlabere nostris. Vix ea fatus eram: tremere omnia visa repente, liminaque laurusque dei, totusque moveri mons circum, et mugire adytis cortina reclusis. Submissi petimus terram, et vox fertur ad auris: Dardanidae duri, quae vos a stirpe parentum prima tulit tellus, eadem vos ubere laeto accipiet reduces. Antiquam exquirite matrem:
hic domus Aeneae cunctis dominabitur oris, et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis. Haec Phoebus; mixtoque ingens exorta tumultu laetitia, et cuncti quae sint ea moenia quaerunt, quo Phoebus vocet errantis iubeatque reverti? Tum genitor, veterum volvens monumenta virorum, Audite, O proceres ait et spes discite vestras: Creta Iovis magni medio iacet insula ponto; mons Idaeus ubi, et gentis cunabula nostrae. Centum urbes habitant magnas, uberrima regna; maximus unde pater, si rite audita recordor, Teucrus Rhoeteas primum est advectus in oras,
optavitque locum regno. Nondum Ilium et arces Pergameae steterant; habitabant vallibus imis. hinc mater cultrix Cybeli Corybantiaque aera Idaeumque nemus; hinc fida silentia sacris, et iuncti currum dominae subiere leones. Ergo agite, et, divom ducunt qua iussa, sequamur; placemus ventos et Gnosia regna petamus. Nec longo distant cursu; modo Iuppiter adsit, tertia lux classem Cretaeis sistet in oris. Sic fatus, meritos aris mactavit honores, taurum Neptuno, taurum tibi, pulcher Apollo nigram Hiemi pecudem, Zephyris felicibus albam.
Fama volat pulsum regnis cessisse paternis Idomenea ducem, desertaque litora Cretae hoste vacare domos, sedesque adstare relictas. Linquimus Ortygiae portus, pelagoque volamus, bacchatamque iugis Naxon viridemque Donysam, Olearon, niveamque Paron, sparsasque per aequor Cycladas, et crebris legimus freta consita terris. Nauticus exoritur vario certamine clamor; hortantur socii: Cretam proavosque petamus! Prosequitur surgens a puppi ventus euntis et tandem antiquis Curetum adlabimur oris. Ergo avidus muros optatae molior urbis,
Pergameamque voco, et laetam cognomine gentem hortor amare focos arcemque attollere tectis. Iamque fere sicco subductae litore puppes; conubiis arvisque novis operata iuventus; iura domosque dabam: subito cum tabida membris, corrupto caeli tractu, miserandaque venit arboribusque satisque lues et letifer annus. Linquebant dulcis animas, aut aegra trahebant corpora; tum sterilis exurere Sirius agros; arebant herbae, et victum seges aegra negabat. Rursus ad oraclum Ortygiae Phoebumque remenso hortatur pater ire mari, veniamque precari:
quam fessis finem rebus ferat; unde laborum temptare auxilium iubeat; quo vertere cursus. Nox erat, et terris animalia somnus habebat: effigies sacrae divom Phrygiique Penates, quos mecum a Troia mediisque ex ignibus urbis extuleram, visi ante oculos adstare iacentis in somnis, multo manifesti lumine, qua se plena per insertas fundebat luna fenestras; tum sic adfari et curas his demere dictis: Quod tibi delato Ortygiam dicturus Apollo est, hic canit, et tua nos en ultro ad limina mittit. Nos te, Dardania incensa, tuaque arma secuti,
nos tumidum sub te permensi classibus aequor, idem venturos tollemus in astra nepotes, imperiumque urbi dabimus: tu moenia magnis magna para, longumque fugae ne linque laborem. Mutandae sedes: non haec tibi litora suasit Delius, aut Cretae iussit considere Apollo. Est locus, Hesperiam Grai cognomine dicunt, terra antiqua, potens armis atque ubere glaebae; Oenotri coluere viri; nunc fama minores Italiam dixisse ducis de nomine gentem: hae nobis propriae sedes; hinc Dardanus ortus, Iasiusque pater, genus a quo principe nostrum.
Surge age, et haec laetus longaevo dicta parenti haud dubitanda refer: Corythum terrasque requirat Ausonias; Dictaea negat tibi Iuppiter arva. Talibus attonitus visis et voce deorum— nec sopor illud erat, sed coram adgnoscere voltus velatasque comas praesentiaque ora videbar; tum gelidus toto manabat corpore sudor corripio e stratis corpus, tendoque supinas ad caelum cum voce manus, et munera libo intemerata focis. Perfecto laetus honore Anchisen facio certum, remque ordine pando. Adgnovit prolem ambiguam geminosque parentes,
seque novo veterum deceptum errore locorum. Tum memorat: Nate, Iliacis exercite fatis, sola mihi talis casus Cassandra canebat. Nunc repeto haec generi portendere debita nostro, et saepe Hesperiam, saepe Itala regna vocare. Sed quis ad Hesperiae venturos litora Teucros crederet, aut quem tum vates Cassandra moveret? Cedamus Phoebo, et moniti meliora sequamur. Sic ait, et cuncti dicto paremus ovantes. Hanc quoque deserimus sedem, paucisque relictis vela damus, vastumque cava trabe currimus aequor. Postquam altum tenuere rates, nec iam amplius ullae
adparent terrae, caelum undique et undique pontus, tum mihi caeruleus supra caput adstitit imber, noctem hiememque ferens, et inhorruit unda tenebris. Continuo venti volvunt mare, magnaque surgunt aequora; dispersi iactamur gurgite vasto; involvere diem nimbi, et nox umida caelum abstulit; ingeminant abruptis nubibus ignes. Excutimur cursu, et caecis erramus in undis. Ipse diem noctemque negat discernere caelo, nec meminisse viae media Palinurus in unda. Tris adeo incertos caeca caligine soles erramus pelago, totidem sine sidere noctes.
Quarto terra die primum se attollere tandem visa, aperire procul montis, ac volvere fumum. Vela cadunt, remis insurgimus; haud mora nautae adnixi torquent spumas et caerula verrunt. Servatum ex undis Strophadum me litora primum accipiunt; Strophades Graio stant nomine dictae, insulae Ionio in magno, quas dira Celaeno Harpyiaeque colunt aliae, Phineia postquam clausa domus, mensasque metu liquere priores. Tristius haud illis monstrum, nec saevior ulla pestis et ira deum Stygiis sese extulit undis. Virginei volucrum voltus, foedissima ventris
proluvies, uncaeque manus, et pallida semper ora fame. Huc ubi delati portus intravimus, ecce laeta boum passim campis armenta videmus, caprigenumque pecus nullo custode per herbas. Inruimus ferro, et divos ipsumque vocamus in partem praedamque Iovem; tum litore curvo exstruimusque toros, dapibusque epulamur opimis. At subitae horrifico lapsu de montibus adsunt Harpyiae, et magnis quatiunt clangoribus alas, diripiuntque dapes, contactuque omnia foedant immundo; tum vox taetrum dira inter odorem.
Rursum in secessu longo sub rupe cavata, arboribus clausi circum atque horrentibus umbris, instruimus mensas arisque reponimus ignem: rursum ex diverso caeli caecisque latebris turba sonans praedam pedibus circumvolat uncis, polluit ore dapes. Sociis tunc, arma capessant, edico, et dira bellum cum gente gerendum. Haud secus ac iussi faciunt, tectosque per herbam disponunt enses et scuta latentia condunt. Ergo ubi delapsae sonitum per curva dedere litora, dat signum specula Misenus ab alta aere cavo. Invadunt socii, et nova proelia temptant,
obscenas pelagi ferro foedare volucres: sed neque vim plumis ullam nec volnera tergo accipiunt, celerique fuga sub sidera lapsae semesam praedam et vestigia foeda relinquunt. Una in praecelsa consedit rupe Celaeno, infelix vates, rumpitque hanc pectore vocem: Bellum etiam pro caede boum stratisque iuvencis, Laomedontiadae, bellumne inferre paratis, et patrio Harpyias insontis pellere regno? Accipite ergo animis atque haec mea figite dicta, quae Phoebo pater omnipotens, mihi Phoebus Apollo praedixit, vobis Furiarum ego maxuma pando.
Italiam cursu petitis, ventisque vocatis ibitis Italiam, portusque intrare licebit; sed non ante datam cingetis moenibus urbem, quam vos dira fames nostraeque iniuria caedis ambesas subigat malis absumere mensas. Dixit, et in silvam pennis ablata refugit. At sociis subita gelidus formidine sanguis deriguit; cecidere animi, nec iam amplius armis, sed votis precibusque iubent exposcere pacem, sive deae, seu sint dirae obscenaeque volucres. Et pater Anchises passis de litore palmis numina magna vocat, meritosque indicit honores:
Di, prohibete minas; di, talem avertite casum, et placidi servate pios! Tum litore funem deripere, excussosque iubet laxare rudentes. Tendunt vela Noti; fugimus spumantibus undis, qua cursum ventusque gubernatorque vocabat. Iam medio adparet fluctu nemorosa Zacynthos Dulichiumque Sameque et Neritos ardua saxis. Effugimus scopulos Ithacae, Laertia regna, et terram altricem saevi exsecramur Ulixi. Mox et Leucatae nimbosa cacumina montis et formidatus nautis aperitur Apollo. Hunc petimus fessi et parvae succedimus urbi;
ancora de prora iacitur, stant litore puppes. Ergo insperata tandem tellure potiti, lustramurque Iovi votisque incendimus aras, Actiaque Iliacis celebramus litora ludis. Exercent patrias oleo labente palaestras nudati socii; iuvat evasisse tot urbes Argolicas, mediosque fugam tenuisse per hostis. Interea magnum sol circumvolvitur annum, et glacialis hiemps aquilonibus asperat undas. Aere cavo clipeum. magni gestamen Abantis, postibus adversis figo, et rem carmine signo: AENEAS HAEC DE DANAIS VICTORIBVS ARMA.
Linquere tum portus iubeo et considere transtris: certatim socii feriunt mare et aequora verrunt. Protinus aërias Phaeacum abscondimus arces, litoraque Epiri legimus portuque subimus Chaonio, et celsam Buthroti accedimus urbem. Hic incredibilis rerum fama occupat auris, Priamiden Helenum Graias regnare per urbes, coniugio Aeacidae Pyrrhi sceptrisque potitum, et patrio Andromachen iterum cessisse marito. Obstipui, miroque incensum pectus amore, compellare virum et casus cognoscere tantos. Progredior portu, classis et litora linquens,
sollemnis cum forte dapes et tristia dona ante urbem in luco falsi Simoentis ad undam libabat cineri Andromache, Manisque vocabat Hectoreum ad tumulum, viridi quem caespite inanem et geminas, causam lacrimis, sacraverat aras. Ut me conspexit venientem et Troïa circum arma amens vidit, magnis exterrita monstris deriguit visu in medio, calor ossa reliquit; labitur, et longo vix tandem tempore fatur: Verane te facies, verus mihi nuntius adfers, nate dea? Vivisne, aut, si lux alma recessit, Hector ubi est? Dixit, lacrimasque effudit et omnem
implevit clamore locum. Vix pauca furenti subicio, et raris turbatus vocibus hisco: Vivo equidem, vitamque extrema per omnia duco; ne dubita, nam vera vides. Heu, quis te casus deiectam coniuge tanto excipit, aut quae digna satis fortuna revisit Hectoris Andromachen? Pyrrhin’ conubia servas? Deiecit vultum et demissa voce locuta est: O felix una ante alias Priameïa virgo, hostilem ad tumulum Troiae sub moenibus altis iussa mori, quae sortitus non pertulit ullos, nec victoris eri tetigit captiva cubile!
nos, patria incensa, diversa per aequora vectae, stirpis Achilleae fastus iuvenemque superbum, servitio enixae, tulimus: qui deinde, secutus Ledaeam Hermionen Lacedaemoniosque hymenaeos, me famulo famulamque Heleno transmisit habendam. Ast illum, ereptae magno inflammatus amore coniugis et scelerum Furiis agitatus, Orestes excipit incautum patriasque obtruncat ad aras. Morte Neoptolemi regnorum reddita cessit pars Heleno, qui Chaonios cognomine campos Chaoniamque omnem Troiano a Chaone dixit, Pergamaque Iliacamque iugis hanc addidit arcem.
Sed tibi qui cursum venti, quae fata dedere? Aut quisnam ignarum nostris deus adpulit oris? Quid puer Ascanius? superatne et vescitur aura, quem tibi iam Troia— Ecqua tamen puero est amissae cura parentis? Ecquid in antiquam virtutem animosque virilis et pater Aeneas et avunculus excitat Hector? Talia fundebat lacrimans longosque ciebat incassum fletus, cum sese a moenibus heros Priamides multis Helenus comitantibus adfert, adgnoscitque suos, laetusque ad limina ducit, et multum lacrimas verba inter singula fundit.
Procedo, et parvam Troiam simulataque magnis Pergama, et arentem Xanthi cognomine rivum adgnosco, Scaeaeque amplector limina portae. Nec non et Teucri socia simul urbe fruuntur: illos porticibus rex accipiebat in amplis; aulaï medio libabant pocula Bacchi, impositis auro dapibus, paterasque tenebant. Iamque dies alterque dies processit, et aurae vela vocant tumidoque inflatur carbasus austro. His vatem adgredior dictis ac talia quaeso: Troiugena, interpres divom, qui numina Phoebi, qui tripodas, Clarii laurus, qui sidera sentis,
et volucrum linguas et praepetis omina pennae, fare age—namque omnem cursum mihi prospera dixit religio, et cuncti suaserunt numine divi Italiam petere et terras temptare repostas: sola novum dictuque nefas Harpyia Celaeno prodigium canit, et tristis denuntiat iras, obscenamque famem—quae prima pericula vito? Quidve sequens tantos possim superare labores? Hic Helenus, caesis primum de more iuvencis, exorat pacem divom, vittasque resolvit sacrati capitis, meque ad tua limina, Phoebe, ipse manu multo suspensum numine ducit,
atque haec deinde canit divino ex ore sacerdos: Nate dea,—nam te maioribus ire per altum auspiciis manifesta fides: sic fata deum rex sortitur, volvitque vices; is vertitur ordo— pauca tibi e multis, quo tutior hospita lustres aequora et Ausonio possis considere portu, expediam dictis; prohibent nam cetera Parcae scire Helenum farique vetat Saturnia Iuno. Principio Italiam, quam tu iam rere propinquam vicinosque, ignare, paras invadere portus, longa procul longis via dividit invia terris. Ante et Trinacria lentandus remus in unda,
et salis Ausonii lustrandum navibus aequor, infernique lacus, Aeaeaeque insula Circae, quam tuta possis urbem componere terra: signa tibi dicam, tu condita mente teneto: cum tibi sollicito secreti ad fluminis undam litoreis ingens inventa sub ilicibus sus triginta capitum fetus enixa iacebit. alba, solo recubans, albi circum ubera nati, is locus urbis erit, requies ea certa laborum. Nec tu mensarum morsus horresce futuros: fata viam invenient, aderitque vocatus Apollo. Has autem terras, Italique hanc litoris oram,
proxuma quae nostri perfunditur aequoris aestu, effuge; cuncta malis habitantur moenia Grais. Hic et Narycii posuerunt moenia Locri, et Sallentinos obsedit milite campos Lyctius Idomeneus; hic illa ducis Meliboei parva Philoctetae subnixa Petelia muro. Quin, ubi transmissae steterint trans aequora classes, et positis aris iam vota in litore solves, purpureo velare comas adopertus amictu, ne qua inter sanctos ignis in honore deorum hostilis facies occurrat et omina turbet. Hunc socii morem sacrorum, hunc ipse teneto:
hac casti maneant in religione nepotes. Ast ubi digressum Siculae te admoverit orae ventus, et angusti rarescent claustra Pelori, laeva tibi tellus et longo laeva petantur aequora circuitu: dextrum fuge litus et undas. Haec loca vi quondam et vasta convolsa ruina— tantum aevi longinqua valet mutare vetustas— dissiluisse ferunt, cum protinus utraque tellus una foret; venit medio vi pontus et undis Hesperium Siculo latus abscidit, arvaque et urbes litore diductas angusto interluit aestu. Dextrum Scylla latus, laevum implacata Charybdis
obsidet, atque imo barathri ter gurgite vastos sorbet in abruptum fluctus, rursusque sub auras erigit alternos et sidera verberat unda. At Scyllam caecis cohibet spelunca latebris, ora exsertantem et navis in saxa trahentem. Prima hominis facies et pulchro pectore virgo pube tenus, postrema immani corpore pristis, delphinum caudas utero commissa luporum. Praestat Trinacrii metas lustrare Pachyni cessantem, longos et circumflectere cursus, quam semel informem vasto vidisse sub antro Scyllam, et caeruleis canibus resonantia saxa.
Praeterea, si qua est Heleno prudentia, vati si qua fides, animum si veris implet Apollo, unum illud tibi, nate dea, proque omnibus unum praedicam, et repetens iterumque iterumque monebo: Iunonis magnae primum prece numen adora; Iunoni cane vota libens, dominamque potentem supplicibus supera donis: sic denique victor Trinacria finis Italos mittere relicta. Huc ubi delatus Cumaeam accesseris urbem, divinosque lacus, et Averna sonantia silvis, insanam vatem aspicies, quae rupe sub ima fata canit, foliisque notas et nomina mandat.
Quaecumque in foliis descripsit carmina virgo, digerit in numerum, atque antro seclusa relinquit. Illa manent immota locis, neque ab ordine cedunt; verum eadem, verso tenuis cum cardine ventus impulit et teneras turbavit ianua frondes, numquam deinde cavo volitantia prendere saxo, nec revocare situs aut iungere carmina curat: inconsulti abeunt, sedemque odere Sibyllae. Hic tibi ne qua morae fuerint dispendia tanti,— quamvis increpitent socii, et vi cursus in altum vela vocet, possisque sinus implere secundos,— quin adeas vatem precibusque oracula poscas
ipsa canat, vocemque volens atque ora resolvat. Illa tibi Italiae populos venturaque bella, et quo quemque modo fugiasque ferasque laborem expediet, cursusque dabit venerata secundos. Haec sunt, quae nostra liceat te voce moneri. Vade age, et ingentem factis fer ad aethera Troiam. Quae postquam vates sic ore effatus amico est, dona dehinc auro gravia sectoque elephanto imperat ad navis ferri, stipatque carinis ingens argentum, Dodonaeosque lebetas, loricam consertam hamis auroque trilicem, et conum insignis galeae cristasque comantis,
arma Neoptolemi; sunt et sua dona parenti. Addit equos, additque duces; remigium supplet; socios simul instruit armis. Interea classem velis aptare iubebat Anchises, fieret vento mora ne qua ferenti. Quem Phoebi interpres multo compellat honore: Coniugio, Anchise, Veneris dignate superbo, cura deum, bis Pergameis erepte ruinis, ecce tibi Ausoniae tellus; hanc arripe velis. Et tamen hanc pelago praeterlabare necesse est; Ausoniae pars illa procul, quam pandit Apollo. Vade ait O felix nati pietate. Quid ultra
provehor, et fando surgentis demoror austros? Nec minus Andromache digressu maesta supremo fert picturatas auri subtemine vestes et Phrygiam Ascanio chlamydem (nec cedit honore), textilibusque onerat donis, ac talia fatur: Accipe et haec, manuum tibi quae monumenta mearum sint, puer, et longum Andromachae testentur amorem, coniugis Hectoreae. Cape dona extrema tuorum, O mihi sola mei super Astyanactis imago: sic oculos, sic ille manus, sic ora ferebat; et nunc aequali tecum pubesceret aevo. Hos ego digrediens lacrimis adfabar obortis:
Vivite felices, quibus est fortuna peracta iam sua; nos alia ex aliis in fata vocamur. Vobis parta quies; nullum maris aequor arandum, arva neque Ausoniae semper cedentia retro quaerenda. Effigiem Xanthi Troiamque videtis quam vestrae fecere manus, melioribus, opto, auspiciis, et quae fuerit minus obvia Graiis. Si quando Thybrim vicinaque Thybridis arva intraro, gentique meae data moenia cernam, cognatas urbes olim populosque propinquos, Epiro, Hesperia, quibus idem Dardanus auctor atque idem casus, unam faciemus utramque
Troiam animis; maneat nostros ea cura nepotes. Provehimur pelago vicina Ceraunia iuxta, unde iter Italiam cursusque brevissimus undis. Sol ruit interea et montes umbrantur opaci; sternimur optatae gremio telluris ad undam, sortiti remos, passimque in litore sicco corpora curamus; fessos sopor inrigat artus. Necdum orbem medium Nox horis acta subibat: haud segnis strato surgit Palinurus et omnis explorat ventos, atque auribus aera captat; sidera cuncta notat tacito labentia caelo, Arcturum pluviasque Hyadas geminosque Triones,
armatumque auro circumspicit Oriona. Postquam cuncta videt caelo constare sereno, dat clarum e puppi signum; nos castra movemus, temptamusque viam et velorum pandimus alas. Iamque rubescebat stellis Aurora fugatis, cum procul obscuros collis humilemque videmus Italiam. Italiam primus conclamat Achates, Italiam laeto socii clamore salutant. Tum pater Anchises magnum cratera corona induit, implevitque mero, divosque vocavit stans celsa in puppi: Di maris et terrae tempestatumque potentes,
ferte viam vento facilem et spirate secundi. Crebrescunt optatae aurae portusque patescit iam propior, templumque adparet in arce Minervae. Vela legunt socii et proras ad litora torquent. Portus ab Euroo fluctu curvatus in arcum, obiectae salsa spumant aspargine cautes; ipse latet; gemino demittunt bracchia muro turriti scopuli, refugitque ab litore templum. Quattuor hic, primum omen, equos in gramine vidi tondentis campum late, candore nivali. Et pater Anchises: Bellum, O terra hospita, portas bello armantur equi, bellum haec armenta minantur.
Sed tamen idem olim curru succedere sueti quadrupedes, et frena iugo concordia ferre; spes et pacis ait. Tum numina sancta precamur Palladis armisonae, quae prima accepit ovantis, et capita ante aras Phrygio velamur amictu; praeceptisque Heleni, dederat quae maxima, rite Iunoni Argivae iussos adolemus honores. Haud mora, continuo perfectis ordine votis, cornua velatarum obvertimus antemarum, Graiugenumque domos suspectaque linquimus arva. Hinc sinus Herculei (si vera est fama) Tarenti cernitur; attollit se diva Lacinia contra,
Caulonisque arces et navifragum Scylaceum. Tum procul e fluctu Trinacria cernitur Aetna, et gemitum ingentem pelagi pulsataque saxa audimus longe fractasque ad litora voces, exsultantque vada, atque aestu miscentur harenae. Et pater Anchises: Nimirum haec illa Charybdis: hos Helenus scopulos, haec saxa horrenda canebat. Eripite, O socii, pariterque insurgite remis! Haud minus ac iussi faciunt, primusque rudentem contorsit laevas proram Palinurus ad undas. laevam cuncta cohors remis ventisque petivit. Tollimur in caelum curvato gurgite, et idem
subducta ad Manis imos desedimus unda. Ter scopuli clamorem inter cava saxa dedere: ter spumam elisam et rorantia vidimus astra. Interea fessos ventus cum sole reliquit, ignarique viae Cyclopum adlabimur oris. Portus ab accessu ventorum immotus et ingens ipse; sed horrificis iuxta tonat Aetna ruinis; interdumque atram prorumpit ad aethera nubem, turbine fumantem piceo et candente favilla, attollitque globos flammarum et sidera lambit; interdum scopulos avolsaque viscera montis erigit eructans, liquefactaque saxa sub auras
cum gemitu glomerat, fundoque exaestuat imo. Fama est Enceladi semustum fulmine corpus urgueri mole hac, ingentemque insuper Aetnam impositam ruptis flammam exspirare caminis; et fessum quotiens mutet latus, intremere omnem murmure Trinacriam, et caelum subtexere fumo. Noctem illam tecti silvis immania monstra perferimus, nec quae sonitum det causa videmus. Nam neque erant astrorum ignes, nec lucidus aethra siderea polus, obscuro sed nubila caelo, et lunam in nimbo nox intempesta tenebat. Postera iamque dies primo surgebat Eoo,
umentemque Aurora polo dimoverat umbram: cum subito e silvis, macie confecta suprema, ignoti nova forma viri miserandaque cultu procedit, supplexque manus ad litora tendit. Respicimus: dira inluvies inmissaque barba, consertum tegumen spinis; at cetera Graius, Isque ubi Dardanios habitus et Troia vidit arma procul, paulum aspectu conterritus haesit, continuitque gradum; mox sese ad litora praeceps cum fletu precibusque tulit: Per sidera testor, per superos atque hoc caeli spirabile lumen, tollite me, Teucri; quascumque abducite terras;
hoc sat erit. Scio me Danais e classibus unum, et bello Iliacos fateor petiisse Penatis; pro quo, si sceleris tanta est iniuria nostri, spargite me in fluctus, vastoque inmergite ponto. Si pereo, hominum manibus periisse iuvabit. Dixerat, et genua amplexus genibusque volutans haerebat. Qui sit, fari, quo sanguine cretus, hortamur; quae deinde agitet fortuna, fateri. Ipse pater dextram Anchises, haud multa moratus, dat iuveni, atque animum praesenti pignore firmat. Ille haec, deposita tandem formidine, fatur: Sum patria ex Ithaca, comes infelicis Ulixi,
nomine Achaemenides, Troiam genitore Adamasto paupere—mansissetque utinam fortuna!—profectus. Hic me, dum trepidi crudelia limina linquunt, inmemores socii vasto Cyclopis in antro deseruere. Domus sanie dapibusque cruentis, intus opaca, ingens; ipse arduus, altaque pulsat sidera—Di, talem terris avertite pestem!— nec visu facilis nec dictu adfabilis ulli. Visceribus miserorum et sanguine vescitur atro. Vidi egomet, duo de numero cum corpora nostro prensa manu magna, medio resupinus in antro, frangeret ad saxum, sanieque aspersa natarent
limina; vidi atro cum membra fluentia tabo manderet, et tepidi tremerent sub dentibus artus. Haud impune quidem; nec talia passus Ulixes, oblitusve sui est Ithacus discrimine tanto. Nam simul expletus dapibus vinoque sepultus cervicem inflexam posuit, iacuitque per antrum immensus, saniem eructans et frusta cruento per somnum commixta mero, nos magna precati numina sortitique vices, una undique circum fundimur, et telo lumen terebramus acuto,— ingens, quod torva solum sub fronte latebat, Argolici clipei aut Phoebeae lampadis instar,—
et tandem laeti sociorum ulciscimur umbras. Sed fugite, O miseri, fugite, atque ab litore funem rumpite. Nam qualis quantusque cavo Polyphemus in antro lanigeras claudit pecudes atque ubera pressat, centum alii curva haec habitant ad litora volgo infandi Cyclopes, et altis montibus errant. Tertia iam lunae se cornua lumine complent, cum vitam in silvis inter deserta ferarum lustra domosque traho, vastosque ab rupe Cyclopas prospicio, sonitumque pedum vocemque tremesco. Victum infelicem, bacas lapidosaque corna,
dant rami et volsis pascunt radicibus herbae. Omnia conlustrans, hanc primum ad litora classem conspexi venientem. Huic me, quaecumque fuisset, addixi: satis est gentem effugisse nefandam. Vos animam hanc potius quocumque absumite leto. Vix ea fatus erat, summo cum monte videmus ipsum inter pecudes vasta se mole moventem pastorem Polyphemum et litora nota petentem, monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum. Trunca manu pinus regit et vestigia firmat; lanigerae comitantur oves—ea sola voluptas solamenque mali.
Postquam altos tetigit fluctus et ad aequora venit, luminis effossi fluidum lavit inde cruorem, dentibus infrendens gemitu, graditurque per aequor iam medium, necdum fluctus latera ardua tinxit. Nos procul inde fugam trepidi celerare, recepto supplice sic merito, tacitique incidere funem; vertimus et proni certantibus aequora remis. Sensit, et ad sonitum vocis vestigia torsit; verum ubi nulla datur dextra adfectare potestas, nec potis Ionios fluctus aequare sequendo, clamorem immensum tollit, quo pontus et omnes contremuere undae, penitusque exterrita tellus
Italiae, curvisque immugiit Aetna cavernis. At genus e silvis Cyclopum et montibus altis excitum ruit ad portus et litora complent. Cernimus adstantis nequiquam lumine torvo Aetnaeos fratres, caelo capita alta ferentis, concilium horrendum: quales cum vertice celso aeriae quercus, aut coniferae cyparissi constiterunt, silva alta Iovis, lucusve Dianae. Praecipites metus acer agit quocumque rudentis excutere, et ventis intendere vela secundis. Contra iussa monent Heleni Scyllam atque Charybdin inter, utramque viam leti discrimine parvo,
ni teneant cursus; certum est dare lintea retro. Ecce autem Boreas angusta ab sede Pelori missus adest. Vivo praetervehor ostia saxo Pantagiae Megarosque sinus Thapsumque iacentem. Talia monstrabat relegens errata retrorsus litora Achaemenides; comes infelicis Ulixi. Sicanio praetenta sinu iacet insula contra Plemyrium undosum; nomen dixere priores Ortygiam. Alpheum fama est huc Elidis amnem occultas egisse vias subter mare; qui nunc ore, Arethusa, tuo Siculis confunditur undis. Iussi numina magna loci veneramur; et inde
exsupero praepingue solum stagnantis Helori. Hinc altas cautes proiectaque saxa Pachyni radimus, et fatis numquam concessa moveri adparet Camerina procul campique Geloi, immanisque Gela fluvii cognomine dicta. Arduus inde Acragas ostentat maxuma longe moenia, magnanimum quondam generator equorum; teque datis linquo ventis, palmosa Selinus, et vada dura lego saxis Lilybeia caecis. Hinc Drepani me portus et inlaetabilis ora accipit. Hic, pelagi tot tempestatibus actis, heu genitorem, omnis curae casusque levamen,
amitto Anchisen: hic me, pater optume, fessum deseris, heu, tantis nequiquam erepte periclis! Nec vates Helenus, cum multa horrenda moneret, hos mihi praedixit luctus, non dira Celaeno. Hic labor extremus, longarum haec meta viarum. Hinc me digressum vestris deus adpulit oris. Sic pater Aeneas intentis omnibus unus fata renarrabat divom, cursusque docebat. Conticuit tandem, factoque hic fine quievit.
Book 4
At regina gravi iamdudum saucia cura volnus alit venis, et caeco carpitur igni. Multa viri virtus animo, multusque recursat gentis honos: haerent infixi pectore voltus verbaque, nec placidam membris dat cura quietem. Postera Phoebea lustrabat lampade terras, umentemque Aurora polo dimoverat umbram, cum sic unanimam adloquitur male sana sororem: Anna soror, quae me suspensam insomnia terrent! Quis novus hic nostris successit sedibus hospes, quem sese ore ferens, quam forti pectore et armis! Credo equidem, nec vana fides, genus esse deorum.
Degeneres animos timor arguit: heu, quibus ille iactatus fatis! Quae bella exhausta canebat! Si mihi non animo fixum immotumque sederet, ne cui me vinclo vellem sociare iugali, postquam primus amor deceptam morte fefellit; si non pertaesum thalami taedaeque fuisset, huic uni forsan potui succumbere culpae. Anna, fatebor enim, miseri post fata Sychaei coniugis et sparsos fraterna caede Penatis, solus hic inflexit sensus, animumque labantem impulit: adgnosco veteris vestigia flammae. Sed mihi vel tellus optem prius ima dehiscat,
vel Pater omnipotens adigat me fulmine ad umbras, pallentis umbras Erebi noctemque profundam, ante, Pudor, quam te violo, aut tua iura resolvo. Ille meos, primus qui me sibi iunxit, amores abstulit; ille habeat secum servetque sepulchro. Sic effata sinum lacrimis implevit obortis. Anna refert: O luce magis dilecta sorori, solane perpetua maerens carpere iuventa, nec dulcis natos, Veneris nec praemia noris? Id cinerem aut Manis credis curare sepultos? Esto: aegram nulli quondam flexere mariti, non Libyae, non ante Tyro; despectus Iarbas
ductoresque alii, quos Africa terra triumphis dives alit: placitone etiam pugnabis amori? Nec venit in mentem, quorum consederis arvis? Hinc Gaetulae urbes, genus insuperabile bello, et Numidae infreni cingunt et inhospita Syrtis; hinc deserta siti regio, lateque furentes Barcaei. Quid bella Tyro surgentia dicam, germanique minas? Dis equidem auspicibus reor et Iunone secunda hunc cursum Iliacas vento tenuisse carinas. Quam tu urbem, soror, hanc cernes, quae surgere regna coniugio tali! Teucrum comitantibus armis
Punica se quantis attollet gloria rebus! Tu modo posce deos veniam, sacrisque litatis indulge hospitio, causasque innecte morandi, dum pelago desaevit hiemps et aquosus Orion, quassataeque rates, dum non tractabile caelum. His dictis incensum animum inflammavit amore, spemque dedit dubiae menti, solvitque pudorem. Principio delubra adeunt, pacemque per aras exquirunt; mactant lectas de more bidentis legiferae Cereri Phoeboque patrique Lyaeo, Iunoni ante omnis, cui vincla iugalia curae. Ipsa, tenens dextra pateram, pulcherrima Dido
candentis vaccae media inter cornua fundit, aut ante ora deum pinguis spatiatur ad aras, instauratque diem donis, pecudumque reclusis pectoribus inhians spirantia consulit exta. Heu vatum ignarae mentes! quid vota furentem, quid delubra iuvant? Est mollis flamma medullas interea, et tacitum vivit sub pectore volnus. Uritur infelix Dido, totaque vagatur urbe furens, qualis coniecta cerva sagitta, quam procul incautam nemora inter Cresia fixit pastor agens telis, liquitque volatile ferrum nescius; illa fuga silvas saltusque peragrat
Dictaeos; haeret lateri letalis arundo. Nunc media Aenean secum per moenia ducit, Sidoniasque ostentat opes urbemque paratam; incipit effari, mediaque in voce resistit; nunc eadem labente die convivia quaerit, Iliacosque iterum demens audire labores exposcit, pendetque iterum narrantis ab ore. Post, ubi digressi, lumenque obscura vicissim luna premit suadentque cadentia sidera somnos, sola domo maeret vacua, stratisque relictis incubat, illum absens absentem auditque videtque; aut gremio Ascanium, genitoris imagine capta,
detinet, infandum si fallere possit amorem. Non coeptae adsurgunt turres, non arma iuventus exercet, portusve aut propugnacula bello tuta parant; pendent opera interrupta, minaeque murorum ingentes aequataque machina caelo. Quam simul ac tali persensit peste teneri cara Iovis coniunx, nec famam obstare furori, talibus adgreditur Venerem Saturnia dictis: Egregiam vero laudem et spolia ampla refertis tuque puerque tuus, magnum et memorabile numen, una dolo divom si femina victa duorum est! Nec me adeo fallit veritam te moenia nostra
suspectas habuisse domos Karthaginis altae. Sed quis erit modus, aut quo nunc certamine tanto? Quin potius pacem aeternam pactosque hymenaeos exercemus? Habes, tota quod mente petisti: ardet amans Dido, traxitque per ossa furorem. Communem hunc ergo populum paribusque regamus auspiciis; liceat Phrygio servire marito, dotalisque tuae Tyrios permittere dextrae. Olli—sensit enim simulata mente locutam, quo regnum Italiae Libycas averteret oras— sic contra est ingressa Venus: Quis talia demens abnuat, aut tecum malit contendere bello,
si modo, quod memoras, factum fortuna sequatur. Sed fatis incerta feror, si Iuppiter unam esse velit Tyriis urbem Troiaque profectis, miscerive probet populos, aut foedera iungi. Tu coniunx tibi fas animum temptare precando. Perge; sequar. Tum sic excepit regia Iuno: Mecum erit iste labor: nunc qua ratione, quod instat confieri possit, paucis, adverte, docebo. Venatum Aeneas unaque miserrima Dido in nemus ire parant, ubi primos crastinus ortus extulerit Titan, radiisque retexerit orbem. His ego nigrantem commixta grandine nimbum,
dum trepidant alae, saltusque indagine cingunt, desuper infundam, et tonitru caelum omne ciebo. Diffugient comites et nocte tegentur opaca: speluncam Dido dux et Troianus eandem devenient; adero, et, tua si mihi certa voluntas, hic hymenaeus erit.—Non adversata petenti adnuit, atque dolis risit Cytherea repertis. Oceanum interea surgens Aurora reliquit. It portis iubare exorto delecta iuventus; retia rara, plagae, lato venabula ferro, Massylique ruunt equites et odora canum vis. Reginam thalamo cunctantem ad limina primi
Poenorum exspectant, ostroque insignis et auro stat sonipes, ac frena ferox spumantia mandit. Tandem progreditur, magna stipante caterva, Sidoniam picto chlamydem circumdata limbo. Cui pharetra ex auro, crines nodantur in aurum, aurea purpuream subnectit fibula vestem. Nec non et Phrygii comites et laetus Iulus incedunt. Ipse ante alios pulcherrimus omnis infert se socium Aeneas atque agmina iungit. Qualis ubi hibernam Lyciam Xanthique fluenta deserit ac Delum maternam invisit Apollo, instauratque choros, mixtique altaria circum
Cretesque Dryopesque fremunt pictique Agathyrsi; ipse iugis Cynthi graditur, mollique fluentem fronde premit crinem fingens atque implicat auro; tela sonant umeris: haud illo segnior ibat Aeneas; tantum egregio decus enitet ore. Postquam altos ventum in montis atque invia lustra, ecce ferae, saxi deiectae vertice, caprae decurrere iugis; alia de parte patentis transmittunt cursu campos atque agmina cervi pulverulenta fuga glomerant montisque relinquunt. At puer Ascanius mediis in vallibus acri gaudet equo, iamque hos cursu, iam praeterit illos,
spumantemque dari pecora inter inertia votis optat aprum, aut fulvum descendere monte leonem. Interea magno misceri murmure caelum incipit; insequitur commixta grandine nimbus; et Tyrii comites passim et Troiana iuventus Dardaniusque nepos Veneris diversa per agros tecta metu petiere; ruunt de montibus amnes. Speluncam Dido dux et Troianus eandem deveniunt: prima et Tellus et pronuba Iuno dant signum; fulsere ignes et conscius aether conubiis, summoque ulularunt vertice nymphae. Ille dies primus leti primusque malorum
causa fuit; neque enim specie famave movetur, nec iam furtivum Dido meditatur amorem: coniugium vocat; hoc praetexit nomine culpam. Extemplo Libyae magnas it Fama per urbes— Fama, malum qua non aliud velocius ullum; mobilitate viget, viresque adquirit eundo, parva metu primo, mox sese attollit in auras, ingrediturque solo, et caput inter nubila condit. Illam Terra parens, ira inritata deorum, extremam (ut perhibent) Coeo Enceladoque sororem progenuit, pedibus celerem et pernicibus alis, monstrum horrendum, ingens, cui, quot sunt corpore plumae
tot vigiles oculi subter, mirabile dictu, tot linguae, totidem ora sonant, tot subrigit aures. Nocte volat caeli medio terraeque per umbram, stridens, nec dulci declinat lumina somno; luce sedet custos aut summi culmine tecti, turribus aut altis, et magnas territat urbes; tam ficti pravique tenax, quam nuntia veri. Haec tum multiplici populos sermone replebat gaudens, et pariter facta atque infecta canebat: venisse Aenean, Troiano sanguine cretum, cui se pulchra viro dignetur iungere Dido; nunc hiemem inter se luxu, quam longa, fovere
regnorum immemores turpique cupidine captos. Haec passim dea foeda virum diffundit in ora. Protinus ad regem cursus detorquet Iarban, incenditque animum dictis atque aggerat iras. Hic Hammone satus, rapta Garamantide Nympha, templa Iovi centum latis immania regnis, centum aras posuit, vigilemque sacraverat ignem, excubias divom aeternas, pecudumque cruore pingue solum et variis florentia limina sertis. Isque amens animi et rumore accensus amaro dicitur ante aras media inter numina divom multa Iovem manibus supplex orasse supinis:
Iuppiter omnipotens, cui nunc Maurusia pictis gens epulata toris Lenaeum libat honorem, aspicis haec, an te, genitor, cum fulmina torques, nequiquam horremus, caecique in nubibus ignes terrificant animos et inania murmura miscent? Femina, quae nostris errans in finibus urbem exiguam pretio posuit, cui litus arandum cuique loci leges dedimus, conubia nostra reppulit, ac dominum Aenean in regna recepit. Et nunc ille Paris cum semiviro comitatu, Maeonia mentum mitra crinemque madentem subnexus, rapto potitur: nos munera templis
quippe tuis ferimus, famamque fovemus inanem. Talibus orantem dictis arasque tenentem audiit omnipotens, oculosque ad moenia torsit regia et oblitos famae melioris amantes. Tum sic Mercurium adloquitur ac talia mandat: Vade age, nate, voca Zephyros et labere pennis, Dardaniumque ducem, Tyria Karthagine qui nunc exspectat, fatisque datas non respicit urbes, adloquere, et celeris defer mea dicta per auras. Non illum nobis genetrix pulcherrima talem promisit, Graiumque ideo bis vindicat armis; sed fore, qui gravidam imperiis belloque frementem
Italiam regeret, genus alto a sanguine Teucri proderet, ac totum sub leges mitteret orbem. Si nulla accendit tantarum gloria rerum, nec super ipse sua molitur laude laborem, Ascanione pater Romanas invidet arces? Quid struit, aut qua spe inimica in gente moratur, nec prolem Ausoniam et Lavinia respicit arva? Naviget: haec summa est; hic nostri nuntius esto. Dixerat. Ille patris magni parere parabat imperio; et primum pedibus talaria nectit aurea, quae sublimem alis sive aequora supra seu terram rapido pariter cum flamine portant;
tum virgam capit: hac animas ille evocat Orco pallentis, alias sub Tartara tristia mittit, dat somnos adimitque, et lumina morte resignat. Illa fretus agit ventos, et turbida tranat nubila; iamque volans apicem et latera ardua cernit Atlantis duri, caelum qui vertice fulcit, Atlantis, cinctum adsidue cui nubibus atris piniferum caput et vento pulsatur et imbri; nix umeros infusa tegit; tum flumina mento praecipitant senis, et glacie riget horrida barba. Hic primum paribus nitens Cyllenius alis constitit; hinc toto praeceps se corpore ad undas
misit, avi similis, quae circum litora, circum piscosos scopulos humilis volat aequora iuxta. Haud aliter terras inter caelumque volabat, litus harenosum Libyae ventosque secabat materno veniens ab avo Cyllenia proles. Ut primum alatis tetigit magalia plantis, Aenean fundantem arces ac tecta novantem conspicit; atque illi stellatus iaspide fulva ensis erat, Tyrioque ardebat murice laena demissa ex umeris, dives quae munera Dido fecerat, et tenui telas discreverat auro. Continuo invadit: Tu nunc Karthaginis altae
fundamenta locas, pulchramque uxorius urbem exstruis, heu regni rerumque oblite tuarum? Ipse deum tibi me claro demittit Olympo regnator, caelum ac terras qui numine torquet; ipse haec ferre iubet celeris mandata per auras: quid struis, aut qua spe Libycis teris otia terris? Si te nulla movet tantarum gloria rerum, Ascanium surgentem et spes heredis Iuli respice, cui regnum Italiae Romanaque tellus debentur. Tali Cyllenius ore locutus mortalis visus medio sermone reliquit, et procul in tenuem ex oculis evanuit auram.
At vero Aeneas aspectu obmutuit amens, arrectaeque horrore comae, et vox faucibus haesit. Ardet abire fuga dulcisque relinquere terras, attonitus tanto monitu imperioque deorum. Heu quid agat? Quo nunc reginam ambire furentem audeat adfatu? Quae prima exordia sumat? Atque animum nunc huc celerem, nunc dividit illuc, in partisque rapit varias perque omnia versat. Haec alternanti potior sententia visa est: Mnesthea Sergestumque vocat fortemque Serestum, classem aptent taciti sociosque ad litora cogant, arma parent, et quae rebus sit causa novandis
dissimulent; sese interea, quando optuma Dido nesciat et tantos rumpi non speret amores, temptaturum aditus, et quae mollissima fandi tempora, quis rebus dexter modus. Ocius omnes imperio laeti parent ac iussa facessunt. At regina dolos—quis fallere possit amantem? praesensit, motusque excepit prima futuros, omnia tuta timens. Eadem impia Fama furenti detulit armari classem cursumque parari. Saevit inops animi, totamque incensa per urbem bacchatur, qualis commotis excita sacris Thyias, ubi audito stimulant trieterica Baccho
orgia, nocturnusque vocat clamore Cithaeron. Tandem his Aenean compellat vocibus ultro: Dissimulare etiam sperasti, perfide, tantum posse nefas, tacitusque mea decedere terra? Nec te noster amor, nec te data dextera quondam, nec moritura tenet crudeli funere Dido? Quin etiam hiberno moliris sidere classem, et mediis properas aquilonibus ire per altum, crudelis? Quid, si non arva aliena domosque ignotas peteres, sed Troia antiqua maneret, Troia per undosum peteretur classibus aequor Mene fugis? Per ego has lacrimas dextramque tuam te
(quando aliud mihi iam miserae nihil ipsa reliqui) per conubia nostra, per inceptos hymenaeos, si bene quid de te merui, fuit aut tibi quicquam dulce meum, miserere domus labentis, et istam— oro, si quis adhuc precibus locus—exue mentem. Te propter Libycae gentes Nomadumque tyranni odere, infensi Tyrii; te propter eundem exstinctus pudor, et, qua sola sidera adibam, fama prior. Cui me moribundam deseris, hospes? Hoc solum nomen quoniam de coniuge restat. Quid moror? An mea Pygmalion dum moenia frater destruat, aut captam ducat Gaetulus Iarbas?
Saltem si qua mihi de te suscepta fuisset ante fugam suboles, si quis mihi parvulus aula luderet Aeneas, qui te tamen ore referret, non equidem omnino capta ac deserta viderer. Dixerat. Ille Iovis monitis immota tenebat lumina, et obnixus curam sub corde premebat. Tandem pauca refert: Ego te, quae plurima fando enumerare vales, numquam, regina, negabo promeritam; nec me meminisse pigebit Elissae, dum memor ipse mei, dum spiritus hos regit artus. Pro re pauca loquar. Neque ego hanc abscondere furto speravi—ne finge—fugam, nec coniugis umquam
praetendi taedas, aut haec in foedera veni. Me si fata meis paterentur ducere vitam auspiciis et sponte mea componere curas, urbem Troianam primum dulcisque meorum reliquias colerem, Priami tecta alta manerent, et recidiva manu posuissem Pergama victis. Sed nunc Italiam magnam Gryneus Apollo, Italiam Lyciae iussere capessere sortes: hic amor, haec patria est. Si te Karthaginis arces, Phoenissam, Libycaeque aspectus detinet urbis, quae tandem, Ausonia Teucros considere terra, invidia est? Et nos fas extera quaerere regna.
Me patris Anchisae, quotiens umentibus umbris nox operit terras, quotiens astra ignea surgunt, admonet in somnis et turbida terret imago; me puer Ascanius capitisque iniuria cari, quem regno Hesperiae fraudo et fatalibus arvis. Nunc etiam interpres divom, Iove missus ab ipso— testor utrumque caput—celeris mandata per auras detulit; ipse deum manifesto in lumine vidi intrantem muros, vocemque his auribus hausi. Desine meque tuis incendere teque querelis: Italiam non sponte sequor. Talia dicentem iamdudum aversa tuetur,
huc illuc volvens oculos, totumque pererrat luminibus tacitis, et sic accensa profatur: Nec tibi diva parens, generis nec Dardanus auctor, perfide; sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens Caucasus, Hyrcanaeque admorunt ubera tigres. Nam quid dissimulo, aut quae me ad maiora reservo? Num fletu ingemuit nostro? Num lumina flexit? Num lacrimas victus dedit, aut miseratus amantem est? Quae quibus anteferam? Iam iam nec maxuma Iuno, nec Saturnius haec oculis pater aspicit aequis. Nusquam tuta fides. Eiectum litore, egentem excepi, et regni demens in parte locavi;
amissam classem, socios a morte reduxi. Heu furiis incensa feror! Nunc augur Apollo, nunc Lyciae sortes, nunc et Iove missus ab ipso interpres divom fert horrida iussa per auras. Scilicet is Superis labor est, ea cura quietos sollicitat. Neque te teneo, neque dicta refello. I, sequere Italiam ventis, pete regna per undas. Spero equidem mediis, si quid pia numina possunt, supplicia hausurum scopulis, et nomine Dido saepe vocaturum. Sequar atris ignibus absens, et, cum frigida mors anima seduxerit artus, omnibus umbra locis adero. Dabis, improbe, poenas.
Audiam et haec Manis veniet mihi fama sub imos. His medium dictis sermonem abrumpit, et auras aegra fugit, seque ex oculis avertit et aufert, linquens multa metu cunctantem et multa parantem dicere. Suscipiunt famulae, conlapsaque membra marmoreo referunt thalamo stratisque reponunt. At pius Aeneas, quamquam lenire dolentem solando cupit et dictis avertere curas, multa gemens magnoque animum labefactus amore, iussa tamen divom exsequitur, classemque revisit. Tum vero Teucri incumbunt, et litore celsas deducunt toto naves: natat uncta carina;
frondentisque ferunt remos et robora silvis infabricata, fugae studio. Migrantis cernas, totaque ex urbe ruentis. Ac velut ingentem formicae farris acervum cum populant, hiemis memores, tectoque reponunt; it nigrum campis agmen, praedamque per herbas convectant calle angusto; pars grandia trudunt obnixae frumenta umeris; pars agmina cogunt castigantque moras; opere omnis semita fervet. Quis tibi tum, Dido, cernenti talia sensus? quosve dabas gemitus, cum litora fervere late prospiceres arce ex summa, totumque videres
misceri ante oculos tantis clamoribus aequor? Improbe Amor, quid non mortalia pectora cogis? Ire iterum in lacrimas, iterum temptare precando cogitur, et supplex animos submittere amori, ne quid inexpertum frustra moritura relinquat. Anna, vides toto properari litore; circum undique convenere; vocat iam carbasus auras, puppibus et laeti nautae imposuere coronas. Hunc ego si potui tantum sperare dolorem, et perferre, soror, potero. Miserae hoc tamen unum exsequere, Anna, mihi. Solam nam perfidus ille te colere, arcanos etiam tibi credere sensus;
sola viri mollis aditus et tempora noras. I, soror, atque hostem supplex adfare superbum: non ego cum Danais Troianam exscindere gentem Aulide iuravi, classemve ad Pergama misi, nec patris Anchisae cineres Manisve revelli, cur mea dicta neget duras demittere in auris. Quo ruit? Extremum hoc miserae det munus amanti: exspectet facilemque fugam ventosque ferentis. Non iam coniugium antiquum, quod prodidit, oro, nec pulchro ut Latio careat regnumque relinquat: tempus inane peto, requiem spatiumque furori, dum mea me victam doceat fortuna dolere.
Extremam hanc oro veniam—miserere sororis— quam mihi cum dederit, cumulatam morte remittam. Talibus orabat, talisque miserrima fletus fertque refertque soror: sed nullis ille movetur fletibus, aut voces ullas tractabilis audit; fata obstant, placidasque viri deus obstruit auris. Ac, velut annoso validam cum robore quercum Alpini Boreae nunc hinc nunc flatibus illinc eruere inter se certant; it stridor, et altae consternunt terram concusso stipite frondes; ipsa haeret scopulis, et, quantum vertice ad auras aetherias, tantum radice in Tartara tendit:
haud secus adsiduis hinc atque hinc vocibus heros tunditur, et magno persentit pectore curas; mens immota manet; lacrimae volvuntur inanes. Tum vero infelix fatis exterrita Dido mortem orat; taedet caeli convexa tueri. Quo magis inceptum peragat lucemque relinquat, vidit, turicremis cum dona imponeret aris, horrendum dictu, latices nigrescere sacros, fusaque in obscenum se vertere vina cruorem. Hoc visum nulli, non ipsi effata sorori. Praeterea fuit in tectis de marmore templum coniugis antiqui, miro quod honore colebat,
velleribus niveis et festa fronde revinctum: hinc exaudiri voces et verba vocantis visa viri, nox cum terras obscura teneret; solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubo saepe queri et longas in fletum ducere voces; multaque praeterea vatum praedicta priorum terribili monitu horrificant. Agit ipse furentem in somnis ferus Aeneas; semperque relinqui sola sibi, semper longam incomitata videtur ire viam, et Tyrios deserta quaerere terra. Eumenidum veluti demens videt agmina Pentheus, et solem geminum et duplicis se ostendere Thebas;
aut Agamemnonius scaenis agitatus Orestes armatam facibus matrem et serpentibus atris cum fugit, ultricesque sedent in limine Dirae. Ergo ubi concepit furias evicta dolore decrevitque mori, tempus secum ipsa modumque exigit, et, maestam dictis adgressa sororem, consilium voltu tegit, ac spem fronte serenat: Inveni, germana, viam—gratare sorori— quae mihi reddat eum, vel eo me solvat amantem. Oceani finem iuxta solemque cadentem ultimus Aethiopum locus est, ubi maxumus Atlas axem humero torquet stellis ardentibus aptum:
hinc mihi Massylae gentis monstrata sacerdos, Hesperidum templi custos, epulasque draconi quae dabat, et sacros servabat in arbore ramos, spargens umida mella soporiferumque papaver. Haec se carminibus promittit solvere mentes quas velit, ast aliis duras immittere curas, sistere aquam fluviis, et vertere sidera retro; nocturnosque movet Manis: mugire videbis sub pedibus terram, et descendere montibus ornos. Testor, cara, deos et te, germana, tuumque dulce caput, magicas invitam accingier artes. Tu secreta pyram tecto interiore sub auras
erige, et arma viri, thalamo quae fixa reliquit impius, exuviasque omnis, lectumque iugalem, quo perii, superimponas: abolere nefandi cuncta viri monumenta iuvat, monstratque sacerdos. Haec effata silet; pallor simul occupat ora. Non tamen Anna novis praetexere funera sacris germanam credit, nec tantos mente furores concipit, aut graviora timet, quam morte Sychaei: ergo iussa parat. At regina, pyra penetrali in sede sub auras erecta ingenti taedis atque ilice secta, intenditque locum sertis, et fronde coronat
funerea; super exuvias ensemque relictum effigiemque toro locat, haud ignara futuri. Stant arae circum, et crines effusa sacerdos ter centum tonat ore deos, Erebumque Chaosque, tergeminamque Hecaten, tria virginis ora Dianae. Sparserat et latices simulatos fontis Averni, falcibus et messae ad lunam quaeruntur aënis pubentes herbae nigri cum lacte veneni; quaeritur et nascentis equi de fronte revolsus et matri praereptus amor. Ipsa mola manibusque piis altaria iuxta, unum exuta pedem vinclis, in veste recincta,
testatur moritura deos et conscia fati sidera; tum, si quod non aequo foedere amantes curae numen habet iustumque memorque, precatur. Nox erat, et placidum carpebant fessa soporem corpora per terras, silvaeque et saeva quierant aequora: cum medio volvuntur sidera lapsu, cum tacet omnis ager, pecudes pictaeque volucres, quaeque lacus late liquidos, quaeque aspera dumis rura tenent, somno positae sub nocte silenti . At non infelix animi Phoenissa, nec umquam Solvitur in somnos, oculisve aut pectore noctem
accipit: ingeminant curae, rursusque resurgens saevit amor, magnoque irarum fluctuat aestu. Sic adeo insistit, secumque ita corde volutat: En, quid ago? Rursusne procos inrisa priores experiar, Nomadumque petam conubia supplex, quos ego sim totiens iam dedignata maritos? Iliacas igitur classes atque ultima Teucrum iussa sequar? Quiane auxilio iuvat ante levatos, et bene apud memores veteris stat gratia facti? Quis me autem, fac velle, sinet, ratibusve superbis invisam accipiet? Nescis heu, perdita, necdum Laomedonteae sentis periuria gentis?
Quid tum, sola fuga nautas comitabor ovantes, an Tyriis omnique manu stipata meorum inferar, et, quos Sidonia vix urbe revelli, rursus agam pelago, et ventis dare vela iubebo? Quin morere, ut merita es, ferroque averte dolorem. Tu lacrimis evicta meis, tu prima furentem his, germana, malis oneras atque obicis hosti. Non licuit thalami expertem sine crimine vitam degere, more ferae, tales nec tangere curas! Non servata fides cineri promissa Sychaeo! Tantos illa suo rumpebat pectore questus. Aeneas celsa in puppi, iam certus eundi,
carpebat somnos, rebus iam rite paratis. Huic se forma dei voltu redeuntis eodem obtulit in somnis, rursusque ita visa monere est— omnia Mercurio similis, vocemque coloremque et crinis flavos et membra decora iuventa: Nate dea, potes hoc sub casu ducere somnos, nec, quae te circum stent deinde pericula, cernis, demens, nec Zephyros audis spirare secundos? Illa dolos dirumque nefas in pectore versat, certa mori, varioque irarum fluctuat aestu. Non fugis hinc praeceps, dum praecipitare potestas? Iam mare turbari trabibus, saevasque videbis
conlucere faces, iam fervere litora flammis, si te his attigerit terris Aurora morantem. Heia age, rumpe moras. Varium et mutabile semper femina. Sic fatus, nocti se immiscuit atrae. Tum vero Aeneas, subitis exterritus umbris, corripit e somno corpus, sociosque fatigat: Praecipites vigilate, viri, et considite transtris; solvite vela citi. Deus aethere missus ab alto festinare fugam tortosque incidere funes ecce iterum stimulat. Sequimur te, sancte deorum, quisquis es, imperioque iterum paremus ovantes. Adsis o placidusque iuves, et sidera caelo
dextra feras. Dixit, vaginaque eripit ensem fulmineum, strictoque ferit retinacula ferro. Idem omnes simul ardor habet, rapiuntque ruuntque; litora deseruere; latet sub classibus aequor; adnixi torquent spumas et caerula verrunt. Et iam prima novo spargebat lumine terras Tithoni croceum linquens Aurora cubile. Regina e speculis ut primum albescere lucem vidit, et aequatis classem procedere velis, litoraque et vacuos sensit sine remige portus, terque quaterque manu pectus percussa decorum, flaventesque abscissa comas, Pro Iuppiter, ibit
hic ait et nostris inluserit advena regnis? Non arma expedient, totaque ex urbe sequentur, deripientque rates alii navalibus? Ite, ferte citi flammas, date vela, impellite remos!— Quid loquor, aut ubi sum? Quae mentem insania mutat? Infelix Dido, nunc te facta impia tangunt. Tum decuit, cum sceptra dabas.—En dextra fidesque, quem secum patrios aiunt portare Penates, quem subiisse umeris confectum aetate parentem! Non potui abreptum divellere corpus, et undis spargere? Non socios, non ipsum absumere ferro Ascanium, patriisque epulandum ponere mensis?—
Verum anceps pugnae fuerat fortuna:—fuisset. Quem metui moritura? Faces in castra tulissem, implessemque foros flammis, natumque patremque cum genere extinxem, memet super ipsa dedissem. Sol, qui terrarum flammis opera omnia lustras, tuque harum interpres curarum et conscia Iuno, nocturnisque Hecate triviis ululata per urbes, et Dirae ultrices, et di morientis Elissae, accipite haec, meritumque malis advertite numen, et nostras audite preces. Si tangere portus infandum caput ac terris adnare necesse est, et sic fata Iovis poscunt, hic terminus haeret:
at bello audacis populi vexatus et armis, finibus extorris, complexu avulsus Iuli, auxilium imploret, videatque indigna suorum funera; nec, cum se sub leges pacis iniquae tradiderit, regno aut optata luce fruatur, sed cadat ante diem, mediaque inhumatus harena. Haec precor, hanc vocem extremam cum sanguine fundo. Tum vos, o Tyrii, stirpem et genus omne futurum exercete odiis, cinerique haec mittite nostro munera. Nullus amor populis, nec foedera sunto. Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor, qui face Dardanios ferroque sequare colonos,
nunc, olim, quocumque dabunt se tempore vires. Litora litoribus contraria, fluctibus undas imprecor, arma armis; pugnent ipsique nepotesque. Haec ait, et partis animum versabat in omnis, invisam quaerens quam primum abrumpere lucem. Tum breviter Barcen nutricem adfata Sychaei; namque suam patria antiqua cinis ater habebat: Annam cara mihi nutrix huc siste sororem; dic corpus properet fluviali spargere lympha, et pecudes secum et monstrata piacula ducat: sic veniat; tuque ipsa pia tege tempora vitta. Sacra Iovi Stygio, quae rite incepta paravi,
perficere est animus, finemque imponere curis, Dardaniique rogum capitis permittere flammae. Sic ait: illa gradum studio celerabat anili. At trepida, et coeptis immanibus effera Dido, sanguineam volvens aciem, maculisque trementis interfusa genas, et pallida morte futura, interiora domus inrumpit limina, et altos conscendit furibunda rogos, ensemque recludit Dardanium, non hos quaesitum munus in usus. Hic, postquam Iliacas vestes notumque cubile conspexit, paulum lacrimis et mente morata, incubuitque toro, dixitque novissima verba:
Dulces exuviae, dum fata deusque sinebant, accipite hanc animam, meque his exsolvite curis. Vixi, et, quem dederat cursum fortuna, peregi, et nunc magna mei sub terras ibit imago. Urbem praeclaram statui; mea moenia vidi; ulta virum, poenas inimico a fratre recepi; felix, heu nimium felix, si litora tantum numquam Dardaniae tetigissent nostra carinae! Dixit, et, os impressa toro, Moriemur inultae, sed moriamur ait. Sic, sic iuvat ire sub umbras: Hauriat hunc oculis ignem crudelis ab alto Dardanus, et nostrae secum ferat omina mortis.
Dixerat; atque illam media inter talia ferro conlapsam aspiciunt comites, ensemque cruore spumantem, sparsasque manus. It clamor ad alta atria; concussam bacchatur Fama per urbem. Lamentis gemituque et femineo ululatu tecta fremunt; resonat magnis plangoribus aether, non aliter, quam si immissis ruat hostibus omnis Karthago aut antiqua Tyros, flammaeque furentes culmina perque hominum volvantur perque deorum. Audiit exanimis, trepidoque exterrita cursu unguibus ora soror foedans et pectora pugnis per medios ruit, ac morientem nomine clamat:
Hoc illud, germana, fuit? Me fraude petebas? Hoc rogus iste mihi, hoc ignes araeque parabant? Quid primum deserta querar? Comitemne sororem sprevisti moriens? Eadem me ad fata vocasses: idem ambas ferro dolor, atque eadem hora tulisset. His etiam struxi manibus, patriosque vocavi voce deos, sic te ut posita crudelis abessem? Exstinxti te meque, soror, populumque patresque Sidonios urbemque tuam. Date volnera lymphis abluam, et, extremus si quis super halitus errat, ore legam. Sic fata, gradus evaserat altos, semianimemque sinu germanam amplexa fovebat
cum gemitu, atque atros siccabat veste cruores. Illa, graves oculos conata attollere, rursus deficit; infixum stridit sub pectore vulnus. Ter sese attollens cubitoque adnixa levavit; ter revoluta toro est, oculisque errantibus alto quaesivit caelo lucem, ingemuitque reperta. Tum Iuno omnipotens, longum miserata dolorem difficilisque obitus, Irim demisit Olympo, quae luctantem animam nexosque resolveret artus. Nam quia nec fato, merita nec morte peribat, sed misera ante diem, subitoque accensa furore, nondum illi flavum Proserpina vertice crinem
abstulerat, Stygioque caput damnaverat Orco. Ergo Iris croceis per caelum roscida pennis, mille trahens varios adverso sole colores, devolat, et supra caput adstitit: Hunc ego Diti sacrum iussa fero, teque isto corpore solvo. Sic ait, et dextra crinem secat: omnis et una dilapsus calor, atque in ventos vita recessit.
Book 5
Interea medium Aeneas iam classe tenebat certus iter, fluctusque atros Aquilone secabat, moenia respiciens, quae iam infelicis Elissae conlucent flammis. Quae tantum accenderit ignem, causa latet; duri magno sed amore dolores polluto, notumque, furens quid femina possit, triste per augurium Teucrorum pectora ducunt. Ut pelagus tenuere rates, nec iam amplius ulla occurrit tellus, maria undique et undique caelum, olli caeruleus supra caput adstitit imber, noctem hiememque ferens, et inhorruit unda tenebris. Ipse gubernator puppi Palinurus ab alta:
Heu! quianam tanti cinxerunt aethera nimbi? Quidve, pater Neptune, paras? Sic deinde locutus colligere arma iubet validisque incumbere remis, obliquatque sinus in ventum, ac talia fatur: Magnanime Aenea, non, si mihi Iuppiter auctor spondeat, hoc sperem Italiam contingere caelo. Mutati transversa fremunt et vespere ab atro consurgunt venti, atque in nubem cogitur aër. Nec nos obniti contra, nec tendere tantum sufficimus. Superat quoniam Fortuna, sequamur, quoque vocat, vertamus iter. Nec litora longe fida reor fraterna Erycis portusque Sicanos,
si modo rite memor servata remetior astra. Tum pius Aeneas: Equidem sic poscere ventos iamdudum et frustra cerno te tendere contra: Flecte viam velis. An sit mihi gratior ulla, quove magis fessas optem demittere naves, quam quae Dardanium tellus mihi servat Acesten, et patris Anchisae gremio complectitur ossa? Haec ubi dicta, petunt portus, et vela secundi intendunt Zephyri; fertur cita gurgite classis, et tandem laeti notae advertuntur harenae. At procul ex celso miratus vertice montis adventum sociasque rates occurrit Acestes,
horridus in iaculis et pelle Libystidis ursae, Troïa Criniso conceptum flumine mater quem genuit: veterum non immemor ille parentum gratatur reduces, et gaza laetus agresti excipit, ac fessos opibus solatur amicis. Postera cum primo stellas Oriente fugarat clara dies, socios in coetum litore ab omni advocat Aeneas, tumulique ex aggere fatur: Dardanidae magni, genus alto a sanguine divom, annuus exactis completur mensibus orbis, ex quo reliquias divinique ossa parentis Condidimus terra maestasque sacravimus aras.
Iamque dies, nisi fallor, adest, quem semper acerbum, semper honoratum—sic di voluistis—habebo. Hunc ego Gaetulis agerem si Syrtibus exsul, Argolicove mari deprensus et urbe Mycenae; annua vota tamen sollemnisque ordine pompas exsequerer, strueremque suis altaria donis. Nunc ultro ad cineres ipsius et ossa parentis, haud equidem sine mente, reor, sine numine divom, adsumus et portus delati intramus amicos. Ergo agite, et laetum cuncti celebremus honorem; poscamus ventos; atque haec me sacra quotannis urbe velit posita templis sibi ferre dicatis.
Bina boum vobis Troia generatus Acestes dat numero capita in naves; adhibete Penates et patrios epulis et quos colit hospes Acestes. Praeterea, si nona diem mortalibus almum Aurora extulerit radiisque retexerit orbem, prima citae Teucris ponam certamina classis; quique pedum cursu valet, et qui viribus audax aut iaculo incedit melior levibusque sagittis, seu crudo fidit pugnam committere caestu, cuncti adsint, meritaeque exspectent praemia palmae. Ore favete omnes, et cingite tempora ramis. Sic fatus, velat materna tempora myrto;
hoc Elymus facit, hoc aevi maturus Acestes, hoc puer Ascanius, sequitur quos cetera pubes. Ille e concilio multis cum milibus ibat ad tumulum, magna medius comitante caterva. Hic duo rite mero libans carchesia Baccho fundit humi, duo lacte novo, duo sanguine sacro, purpureosque iacit flores, ac talia fatur: Salve, sancte parens: iterum salvete, recepti nequiquam cineres, animaeque umbraeque paternae. Non licuit fines Italos fataliaque arva, nec tecum Ausonium (quicumque est) quaerere Thybrim. Dixerat haec, adytis cum lubricus anguis ab imis
septem ingens gyros, septena volumina traxit, amplexus placide tumulum lapsusque per aras, caeruleae cui terga notae, maculosus et auro squamam incendebat fulgor, ceu nubibus arcus mille iacit varios adverso sole colores. Obstipuit visu Aeneas. Ille agmine longo tandem inter pateras et levia pocula serpens libavitque dapes, rursusque innoxius imo successit tumulo, et depasta altaria liquit. Hoc magis inceptos genitori instaurat honores, incertus, geniumne loci famulumne parentis esse putet: caedit binas de more bidentes,
totque sues, totidem nigrantis terga iuvencos; vinaque fundebat pateris, animamque vocabat Anchisae magni Manisque Acheronte remissos. Nec non et socii, quae cuique est copia, laeti dona ferunt, onerant aras, mactantque iuvencos; ordine aena locant alii, fusique per herbam subiciunt veribus prunas et viscera torrent. Exspectata dies aderat, nonamque serena Auroram Phaethontis equi iam luce vehebant, famaque finitimos et clari nomen Acestae excierat; laeto complerant litora coetu, visuri Aeneadas, pars et certare parati.
Munera principio ante oculos circoque locantur in medio, sacri tripodes viridesque coronae, et palmae pretium victoribus, armaque et ostro perfusae vestes, argenti aurique talenta; et tuba commissos medio canit aggere ludos. Prima pares ineunt gravibus certamina remis quattuor ex omni delectae classe carinae. Velocem Mnestheus agit acri remige Pristim, mox Italus Mnestheus, genus a quo nomine Memmi; ingentemque Gyas ingenti mole Chimaeram, urbis opus, triplici pubes quam Dardana versu impellunt, terno consurgunt ordine remi;
Sergestusque, domus tenet a quo Sergia nomen, Centauro invehitur magna, Scyllaque Cloanthus caerulea, genus unde tibi, Romane Cluenti. Est procul in pelago saxum spumantia contra litora, quod tumidis submersum tunditur olim fluctibus, hiberni condunt ubi sidera cori; tranquillo silet, immotaque attollitur unda campus, et apricis statio gratissima mergis. Hic viridem Aeneas frondenti ex ilice metam constituit signum nautis pater, unde reverti scirent, et longos ubi circumflectere cursus. Tum loca sorte legunt, ipsique in puppibus auro
ductores longe effulgent ostroque decori; cetera populea velatur fronde iuventus, nudatosque umeros oleo perfilsa nitescit. Considunt transtris, intentaque brachia remis; intenti exspectant signum, exsultantiaque haurit corda pavor pulsans, laudumque arrecta cupido. Inde, ubi clara dedit sonitum tuba, finibus omnes, haud mora, prosiluere suis; ferit aethera clamor nauticus, adductis spumant freta versa lacertis. Infindunt pariter sulcos, totumque dehiscit convulsum remis rostrisque tridentibus aequor. Non tam praecipites biiugo certamine campum
corripuere, ruuntque effusi carcere currus, nec sic immissis aurigae undantia lora concussere iugis pronique in verbera pendent. Tum plausu fremituque virum studiisque faventum consonat omne nemus, vocemque inclusa volutant litora, pulsati colles clamore resultant. Effugit ante alios primisque elabitur undis turbam inter fremitumque Gyas; quem deinde Cloanthus consequitur, melior remis, sed pondere pinus tarda tenet. Post hos aequo discrimine Pristis Centaurusque locum tendunt superare priorem; et nunc Pristis habet, nunc victam praeterit ingens
Centaurus, nunc una ambae iunctisque feruntur frontibus, et longa sulcant vada salsa carina. Iamque propinquabant scopulo metamque tenebant, cum princeps medioque Gyas in gurgite victor rectorem navis compellat voce Menoeten: Quo tantum mihi dexter abis? Huc dirige gressum; litus ama, et laevas stringat sine palmula cautes; altum alii teneant. Dixit; sed caeca Menoetes saxa timens proram pelagi detorquet ad undas. Quo diversus abis? iterum Pete saxa, Menoete! cum clamore Gyas revocabat; et ecce Cloanthum respicit instantem tergo, et propiora tenentem.
Ille inter navemque Gyae scopulosque sonantes radit iter laevum interior, subitoque priorem praeterit, et metis tenet aequora tuta relictis. Tum vero exarsit iuveni dolor ossibus ingens, nec lacrimis caruere genae, segnemque Menoeten, oblitus decorisque sui sociumque salutis, in mare praecipitem puppi deturbat ab alta; ipse gubernaclo rector subit, ipse magister, hortaturque viros, clavumque ad litora torquet. At gravis, ut fundo vix tandem redditus imo est, iam senior madidaque fluens in veste Menoetes summa petit scopuli siccaque in rupe resedit.
Ilium et labentem Teucri et risere natantem, et salsos rident revomentem pectore fluctus. Hic laeta extremis spes est accensa duobus, Sergesto Mnestheique, Gyan superare morantem. Sergestus capit ante locum scopuloque propinquat, nec tota tamen ille prior praeeunte carina; parte prior, partem rostro premit aemula Pristis. At media socios incedens nave per ipsos hortatur Mnestheus: Nunc, nunc insurgite remis, Hectorei socii, Troiae quos sorte suprema delegi comites; nunc illas promite vires, nunc animos, quibus in Gaetulis Syrtibus usi,
Ionioque mari Maleaeque sequacibus undis. Non iam prima peto Mnestheus, neque vincere certo; quamquam O!—sed superent, quibus hoc, Neptune, dedisti; extremos pudeat rediisse; hoc vincite, cives, et prohibete nefas. Olli certamine summo procumbunt; vastis tremit ictibus aerea puppis, subtrahiturque solum; tum creber anhelitus artus aridaque ora quatit, sudor fluit undique rivis. Attulit ipse viris optatum casus honorem. Namque furens animi dum proram ad saxa suburguet interior, spatioque subit Sergestus iniquo, infelix saxis in procurrentibus haesit.
Concussae cautes, et acuto in murice remi obnixi crepuere, inlisaque prora pependit. Consurgunt nautae et magno clamore morantur, ferratasque trudes et acuta cuspide contos expediunt, fractosque legunt in gurgite remos. At laetus Mnestheus successuque acrior ipso agmine remorum celeri ventisque vocatis prona petit maria et pelago decurrit aperto. Qualis spelunca subito commota columba, cui domus et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi, fertur in ana volans, plausumque exterrita pennis dat tecto ingentem, mox aere lapsa quieto
radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas: sic Mnestheus, sic ipsa fuga secat ultima Pristis aequora, sic illam fert impetus ipse volantem. Et primum in scopulo luctantem deserit alto Sergestum, brevibusque vadis frustraque vocantem auxilia, et fractis discentem currere remis Inde Gyan ipsamque ingenti mole Chimaeram consequitur; cedit, quoniam spoliata magistro est. Solus iamque ipso superest in fine Cloanthus: quem petit, et summis adnixus viribus urguet. Tum vero ingeminat clamor, cunctique sequentem instigant studiis, resonatque fragoribus aether.
Hi proprium decus et partum indignantur honorem ni teneant, vitamque volunt pro laude pacisci; hos successus alit: possunt, quia posse videntur. Et fors aequatis cepissent praemia rostris, ni palmas ponto tendens utrasque Cloanthus fudissetque preces, divosque in vota vocasset: Di, quibus imperium est pelagi, quorum aequora curro, vobis laetus ego hoc candentem in litore taurum constituam ante aras, voti reus, extaque salsos porriciam in fluctus et vina liquentia fundam. Dixit, eumque imis sub fluctibus audiit omnis Nereidum Phorcique chorus Panopeaque virgo,
et pater ipse manu magna Portunus euntem impulit; illa Noto citius volucrique sagitta ad terram fugit, et portu se condidit alto. Tum satus Anchisa, cunctis ex more vocatis, victorem magna praeconis voce Cloanthum declarat viridique advelat tempora lauro, muneraque in naves ternos optare iuvencos, vinaque et argenti magnum dat ferre talentum. Ipsis praecipuos ductoribus addit honores: victori chlamydem auratam, quam plurima circum purpura maeandro duplici Meliboea cucurrit, intextusque puer frondosa regius Ida
veloces iaculo cervos cursuque fatigat, acer, anhelanti similis, quem praepes ab Ida sublimem pedibus rapuit Iovis armiger uncis; longaevi palmas nequiquam ad sidera tendunt custodes, saevitque canum latratus in auras. At qui deinde locum tenuit virtute secundum, levibus huic hamis consertam auroque trilicem loricam, quam Demoleo detraxerat ipse victor apud rapidum Simoënta sub Ilio alto, donat habere viro, decus et tutamen in armis. Vix illam famuli Phegeus Sagarisque ferebant multiplicem, conixi umeris; indutus at olim
Demoleos cursu palantes Troas agebat. Tertia dona facit geminos ex aere lebetas, cymbiaque argento perfecta atque aspera signis. Iamque adeo donati omnes opibusque superbi puniceis ibant evincti tempora taenis, cum saevo e scopulo multa vix arte revolsus, amissis remis atque ordine debilis uno, inrisam sine honore ratem Sergestus agebat. Qualis saepe viae deprensus in aggere serpens, aerea quem obliquum rota transiit, aut gravis ictu seminecem liquit saxo lacerumque viator; nequiquam longos fugiens dat corpore tortus,
parte ferox, ardensque oculis, et sibila colla arduus attollens, pars volnere clauda retentat nexantem nodis seque in sua membra plicantem: tali remigio navis se tarda movebat; vela facit tamen, et velis subit ostia plenis. Sergestum Aeneas promisso munere donat, servatam ob navem laetus sociosque reductos. Olli serva datur, operum haud ignara Minervae, Cressa genus, Pholoë, geminique sub ubere nati. Hoc pius Aeneas misso certamine tendit gramineum in campum, quem collibus undique curvis cingebant silvae, mediaque in valle theatri
circus erat; quo se multis cum milibus heros consessu medium tulit exstructoque resedit. Hic, qui forte velint rapido contendere cursu, invitat pretiis animos, et praemia ponit. Undique conveniunt Teucri mixtique Sicani, Nisus et Euryalus primi, Euryalus forma insignis viridique iuventa, Nisus amore pio pueri; quos deinde secutus regius egregia Priami de stirpe Diores; hunc Salius simul et Patron, quorum alter Acarnan, alter ab Arcadio Tegeaeae sanguine gentis; tum duo Trinacrii iuvenes, Helymus Panopesque,
adsueti silvis, comites senioris Acestae; multi praeterea, quos fama obscura recondit. Aeneas quibus in mediis sic deinde locutus: Accipite haec animis, laetasque advertite mentes: nemo ex hoc numero mihi non donatus abibit. Gnosia bina dabo levato lucida ferro spicula caelatamque argento ferre bipennem; omnibus hic erit unus honos. Tres praemia primi accipient flavaque caput nectentur oliva. Primus equum phaleris insignem victor habeto; alter Amazoniam pharetram plenamque sagittis Threïciis, lato quam circum amplectitur auro
balteus et tereti subnectit fibula gemma; tertius Argolica hac galea contentus abito. Haec ubi dicta, locum capiunt, signoque repente corripiunt spatia audito, limenque relinquunt, effusi nimbo similes, simul ultima signant. Primus abit longeque ante omnia corpora Nisus emicat, et ventis et fulminis ocior alis; proximus huic, longo sed proxumus intervallo, insequitur Salius; spatio post deinde relicto tertius Euryalus: Euryalumque Helymus sequitur; quo deinde sub ipso ecce volat calcemque terit iam calce Diores,
incumbens umero, spatia et si plura supersint, transeat elapsus prior, ambiguumque relinquat. Iamque fere spatio extremo fessique sub ipsam finem adventabant, levi cum sanguine Nisus labitur infelix, caesis ut forte iuvencis fusus humum viridisque super madefecerat herbas. Hic iuvenis iam victor ovans vestigia presso haud tenuit titubata solo, sed pronus in ipso concidit immundoque fimo sacroque cruore. Non tamen Euryali, non ille oblitus amorum; nam sese opposuit Salio per lubrica surgens; ille autem spissa iacuit revolutus harena.
Emicat Euryalus, et munere victor amici prima tenet, plausuque volat fremituque secundo. Post Helymus subit, et nunc tertia palma Diores. Hic totum caveae consessum ingentis et ora prima patrum magnis Salius clamoribus implet, ereptumque dolo reddi sibi poscit honorem. Tutatur favor Euryalum, lacrimaeque decorae, gratior et pulchro veniens in corpore virtus. Adiuvat et magna proclamat voce Diores, qui subiit palmae, frustraque ad praemia venit ultima, si primi Salio reddentur honores. Tum pater Aeneas Vestra inquit munera vobis
certa manent, pueri, et palmam movet ordine nemo; me liceat casus misereri insontis amici. Sic fatus, tergum Gaetuli immane leonis dat Salio, villis onerosum atque unguibus aureis. Hic Nisus, Si tanta inquit sunt praemia victis, et te lapsorum miseret, quae munera Niso digna dabis, primam merui qui laude coronam, ni me, quae Salium, fortuna inimica tulisset? Et simul his dictis faciem ostentabat et udo turpia membra fimo. Risit pater optimus olli et clipeum efferri iussit, Didymaonis artem, Neptuni sacro Danais de poste refixum.
Hoc iuvenem egregium praestanti munere donat; Post, ubi confecti cursus, et dona peregit: Nunc, si cui virtus animusque in pectore praesens, adsit, et evinctis attollat brachia palmis. Sic ait, et geminum pugnae proponit honorem, victori velatum auro vittisque iuvencum, ensem atque insignem galeam solacia victo. Nec mora: continuo vastis cum viribus effert ora Dares, magnoque virum se murmure tollit; solus qui Paridem solitus contendere contra, idemque ad tumulum, quo maximus occubat Hector, victorem Buten immani corpore, qui se
Bebrycia veniens Amyci de gente ferebat, perculit, et fulva moribundum extendit harena. Talis prima Dares caput altum in proelia tollit, ostenditque umeros latos, alternaque iactat brachia protendens, et verberat ictibus auras. Quaeritur huic alius; nec quisquam ex agmine tanto audet adire virum manibusque inducere caestus. Ergo alacris, cunctosque putans excedere palma, Aeneae stetit ante pedes, nec plura moratus tum laeva taurum cornu tenet, atque ita fatur: Nate dea, si nemo audet se credere pugnae, quae finis standi? Quo me decet usque teneri?
Ducere dona iube. Cuncti simul ore fremebant Dardanidae, reddique viro promissa iubebant. Hic gravis Entellum dictis castigat Acestes, proximus ut viridante toro consederat herbae: Entelle, heroum quondam fortissime frustra, tantane tam patiens nullo certamine tolli dona sines? Ubi nunc nobis deus ille magister nequiquam memoratus Eryx? Ubi fama per omnem Trinacriam, et spolia illa tuis pendentia tectis? Ille sub haec: Non laudis amor, nec gloria cessit pulsa metu; sed enim gelidus tardante senecta sanguis hebet, frigentque effetae in corpore vires.
Si mihi, quae quondam fuerat, quaque improbus iste exsultat fidens, si nunc foret illa iuventas, haud equidem pretio inductus pulchroque iuvenco venissem, nec dona moror. Sic deinde locutus in medium geminos immani pondere caestus proiecit, quibus acer Eryx in proelia suetus ferre manum, duroque intendere brachia tergo. Obstipuere animi: tantorum ingentia septem terga boum plumbo insuto ferroque rigebant. Ante omnes stupet ipse Dares, longeque recusat; magnanimusque Anchisiades et pondus et ipsa huc illuc vinclorum immensa volumina versat.
Tum senior talis referebat pectore voces: Quid, si quis caestus ipsius et Herculis arma vidisset, tristemque hoc ipso in litore pugnam? Haec germanus Eryx quondam tuus arma gerebat;— sanguine cernis adhuc sparsoque infecta cerebro;— his magnum Alciden contra stetit; his ego suetus, dum melior vires sanguis dabat, aemula necdum temporibus geminis canebat sparsa senectus. Sed si nostra Dares haec Troius arma recusat, idque pio sedet Aeneae, probat auctor Acestes, aequemus pugnas. Erycis tibi terga remitto; solve metus; et tu Troianos exue caestus.
Haec fatus, duplicem ex umeris reiecit amictum et magnos membrorum artus, magna ossa lacertosque exuit, atque ingens media consistit harena. Tum satus Anchisa caestus pater extulit aequos, et paribus palmas amborum innexuit armis. Constitit in digitos extemplo arrectus uterque, brachiaque ad superas interritus extulit auras. Abduxere retro longe capita ardua ab ictu, immiscentque manus manibus, pugnamque lacessunt. Ille pedum melior motu, fretusque iuventa; hic membris et mole valens, sed tarda trementi genua labant, vastos quatit aeger anhelitus artus.
Multa viri nequiquam inter se volnera iactant, multa cavo lateri ingeminant, et pectore vastos dant sonitus, erratque auris et tempora circum crebra manus, duro crepitant sub volnere malae. Stat gravis Entellus nisuque immotus eodem, corpore tela modo atque oculis vigilantibus exit. Ille, velut celsam oppugnat qui molibus urbem, aut montana sedet circum castella sub armis, nunc hos, nunc illos aditus, omnemque pererrat arte locum, et variis adsultibus inritus urguet. Ostendit dextram insurgens Entellus, et alte extulit: ille ictum venientem a vertice velox
praevidit, celerique elapsus corpore cessit. Entellus vires in ventum effudit, et ultro ipse gravis graviterque ad terram pondere vasto concidit, ut quondam cava concidit aut Erymantho, aut Ida in magna, radicibus eruta pinus. Consurgunt studiis Teucri et Trinacria pubes; it clamor caelo, primusque accurrit Acestes, aequaevumque ab humo miserans attollit amicum. At non tardatus casu neque territus heros acrior ad pugnam redit ac vim suscitat ira. Tum pudor incendit vires et conscia virtus, praecipitemque Daren ardens agit aequore toto,
nunc dextra ingeminans ictus, nunc ille sinistra; nec mora, nec requies: quam multa grandine nimbi culminibus crepitant, sic densis ictibus heros creber utraque manu pulsat versatque Dareta. Tum pater Aeneas procedere longius iras et saevire animis Entellum haud passus acerbis; sed finem imposuit pugnae, fessumque Dareta eripuit mulcens dictis, ac talia fatur: Infelix, quae tanta animum dementia cepit? Non vires alias conversaque numina sentis? Cede deo. Dixitque et proelia voce diremit. Ast illum fidi aequales, genua aegra trahentem,
iactantemque utroque caput, crassumque cruorem ore eiectantem mixtosque in sanguine dentes, ducunt ad naves; galeamque ensemque vocati accipiunt; palmam Entello taurumque relinquunt. Hic victor, superans animis tauroque superbus: Nate dea, vosque haec inquit cognoscite, Teucri, et mihi quae fuerint iuvenali in corpore vires, et qua servetis revocatum a morte Dareta. Dixit, et adversi contra stetit ora iuvenci, qui donum adstabat pugnae, durosque reducta libravit dextra media inter cornua caestus, arduus, effractoque inlisit in ossa cerebro.
sternitur exanimisque tremens procumbit humi bos. Ille super tales effundit pectore voces: Hanc tibi, Eryx, meliorem animam pro morte Daretis persolvo; hic victor caestus artemque repono. Protinus Aeneas celeri certare sagitta invitat qui forte velint, et praemia ponit, ingentique manu malum de nave Seresti erigit, et volucrem traiecto in fune columbam, quo tendant ferrum, malo suspendit ab alto. Convenere viri, deiectamque aerea sortem accepit galea; et primus clamore secundo Hyrtacidae ante omnes exit locus Hippocoöntis;
quem modo navali Mnestheus certamine victor consequitur, viridi Mnestheus evinctus oliva. Tertius Eurytion, tuus, o clarissime, frater, Pandare, qui quondam, iussus confundere foedus, in medios telum torsisti primus Achivos. Extremus galeaque ima subsedit Acestes, ausus et ipse manu iuvenum temptare laborem. Tum validis flexos incurvant viribus arcus pro se quisque viri, et depromunt tela pharetris. Primaque per caelum, nervo stridente, sagitta Hyrtacidae iuvenis volucres diverberat auras; et venit, adversique infigitur arbore mali.
Intremuit malus, timuitque exterrita pennis ales, et ingenti sonuerunt omnia plausu. Post acer Mnestheus adducto constitit arcu, alta petens, pariterque oculos telumque tetendit. Ast ipsam miserandus avem contingere ferro non valuit: nodos et vincula linea rupit, quis innexa pedem malo pendebat ab alto: illa notos atque alta volans in nubila fugit. Tum rapidus, iamdudum arcu contenta parato tela tenens, fratrem Eurytion in Pota vocavit, iam vacuo laetam caelo speculatus, et alis plaudentem nigra figit sub nube columbam.
Decidit exanimis, vitamque reliquit in astris aetheriis, fixamque refert delapsa sagittam. Amissa solus palma superabat Acestes; qui tamen aerias telum contendit in auras, ostentans artemque pater arcumque sonantem. Hic oculis subito obicitur magnoque futurum augurio monstrum; docuit post exitus ingens, seraque terrifici cecinerunt omina vates. Namque volans liquidis in nubibus arsit harundo, signavitque viam flammis, tenuisque recessit consumpta in ventos, caelo ceu saepe refixa transcurrunt crinemque volantia sidera ducunt.
Attonitis haesere animis, superosque precati Trinacrii Teucrique viri; nec maximus omen abnuit Aeneas; sed laetum amplexus Acesten muneribus cumulat magnis, ac talia fatur: Sume, pater; nam te voluit rex magnus Olympi talibus auspiciis exsortem ducere honores. Ipsius Anchisae longaevi hoc munus habebis, cratera impressum signis, quem Thracius olim Anchisae genitori in magno munere Cisseus ferre sui dederat monumentum et pignus amoris. Sic fatus cingit viridanti tempora lauro, et primum ante omnes victorem appellat Acesten.
Nec bonus Eurytion praelato invidit honori, quamvis solus avem caelo deiecit ab alto. Proximus ingreditur donis, qui vincula rupit; extremus, volucri qui fixit arundine malum. At pater Aeneas, nondum certamine misso, custodem ad sese comitemque impubis Iuli Epytiden vocat, et fidam sic fatur ad aurem: Vade age, et Ascanio, si iam puerile paratum agmen habet secum, cursusque instruxit equorum, ducat avo turmas, et sese ostendat in armis, dic ait. Ipse omnem longo decedere circo infusum populum, et campos iubet esse patentes.
Incedunt pueri, pariterque ante ora parentum frenatis lucent in equis, quos omnis euntes Trinacriae mirata fremit Troiaeque iuventus. omnibus in morem tonsa coma pressa corona; cornea bina ferunt praefixa hastilia ferro; pars levis umero pharetras; it pectore summo flexilis obtorti per collum circulus auri. Tres equitum numero turmae, ternique vagantur ductores: pueri bis seni quemque secuti agmine partito fulgent paribusque magistris. Una acies iuvenum, ducit quam parvus ovantem nomen avi referens Priamus,—tua clara, Polite,
progenies, auctura Italos,—quem Thracius albis portat equus bicolor maculis, vestigia primi alba pedis frontemque ostentans arduus albam. Alter Atys, genus unde Atii duxere Latini, parvus Atys, pueroque puer dilectus Iulo. Extremus, formaque ante omnis pulcher, Iulus Sidonio est invectus equo, quem candida Dido esse sui dederat monumentum et pignus amoris. Cetera Trinacrii pubes senioris Acestae fertur equis. Excipiunt plausu pavidos, gaudentque tuentes Dardanidae, veterumque adgnoscunt ora parentum.
Postquam omnem laeti consessum oculosque suorum lustravere in equis, signum clamore paratis Epytides longe dedit insonuitque flagello. Olli discurrere pares, atque agmina terni diductis solvere choris, rursusque vocati convertere vias infestaque tela tulere. Inde alios ineunt cursus aliosque recursus adversi spatiis, alternosque orbibus orbes impediunt, pugnaeque cient simulacra sub armis; et nunc terga fuga nudant, nunc spicula vertunt infensi, facta pariter nunc pace feruntur. Ut quondam Creta fertur Labyrinthus in alta
parietibus textum caecis iter, ancipitemque mille viis habuisse dolum, qua signa sequendi falleret indeprensus et inremeabilis error; haud alio Teucrum nati vestigia cursu impediunt texuntque fugas et proelia ludo, delphinum similes, qui per maria umida nando Carpathium Libycumque secant, Hunc morem cursus atque haec certamina primus Ascanius, Longam muris cum cingeret Albam, rettulit, et priscos docuit celebrare Latinos, quo puer ipse modo, secum quo Troïa pubes; Albani docuere suos; hinc maxima porro
accepit Roma, et patrium servavit honorem; Troiaque nunc pueri, Troianum dicitur agmen. Hac celebrata tenus sancto certamina patri. Hic primum fortuna fidem mutata novavit. Dum variis tumulo referunt sollemnia ludis, Irim de caelo misit Saturnia Iuno Iliacam ad classem, ventosque adspirat eunti, multa movens, necdum antiquum saturata dolorem. Illa, viam celerans per mille coloribus arcum, nulli visa cito decurrit tramite virgo. Conspicit ingentem concursum, et litora lustrat, desertosque videt portus classemque relictam.
At procul in sola secretae Troades acta amissum Anchisen flebant, cunctaeque profundum pontum adspectabant flentes. Heu tot vada fessis et tantum superesse maris! vox omnibus una. Urbem orant; taedet pelagi perferre laborem. Ergo inter medias sese haud ignara nocendi conicit, et faciemque deae vestemque reponit; fit Beroë, Tmarii coniunx longaeva Dorycli, cui genus et quondam nomen natique fuissent; ac sic Dardanidum mediam se matribus infert: O miserae, quas non manus inquit Achaïca bello traxerit ad letum patriae sub moenibus! O gens
infelix, cui te exitio Fortuna reservat? Septuma post Troiae exscidium iam vertitur aestas, cum freta, cum terras omnes, tot inhospita saxa sideraque emensae ferimur, dum per mare magnum Italiam sequimur fugientem, et volvimur undis. Hic Erycis fines fraterni, atque hospes Acestes: quis prohibet muros iacere et dare civibus urbem? O patria et rapti nequiquam ex hoste Penates, nullane iam Troiae dicentur moenia? Nusquam Hectoreos amnes, Xanthum et Simoenta, videbo? Quin agite et mecum infaustas exurite puppes. Nam mihi Cassandrae per somnum vatis imago
ardentes dare visa faces: Hic quaerite Troiam; hic domus est inquit vobis. Iam tempus agi res, nec tantis mora prodigiis. En quattuor arae Neptuno; deus ipse faces animumque ministrat. Haec memorans, prima infensum vi corripit ignem, sublataque procul dextra conixa coruscat, et iacit: arrectae mentes stupefactaque corda Iliadum. Hic una e multis, quae maxima natu, Pyrgo, tot Priami natorum regia nutrix: Non Beroë vobis, non haec Rhoeteïa, matres, est Dorycli coniunx; divini signa decoris ardentesque notate oculos; qui spiritus illi,
qui voltus, vocisque sonus, vel gressus eunti. Ipsa egomet dudum Beroen digressa reliqui aegram, indignantem, tali quod sola careret munere, nec meritos Anchisae inferet honores. Haec effata. At matres primo ancipites oculisque malignis ambiguae spectare rates miserum inter amorem praesentis terrae fatisque vocantia regna, cum dea se paribus per caelum sustulit alis, ingentemque fuga secuit sub nubibus arcum. Tum vero attonitae monstris actaeque furore conclamant, rapiuntque focis penetralibus ignem;
pars spoliant aras, frondem ac virgulta facesque coniciunt. Furit immissis Volcanus habenis transtra per et remos et pictas abiete puppes. Nuntius Anchisae ad tumulum cuneosque theatri incensas perfert naves Eumelus, et ipsi respiciunt atram in nimbo volitare favillam. Primus et Ascanius, cursus ut laetus equestres ducebat, sic acer equo turbata petivit castra, nec exanimes possunt retinere magistri. Quis furor iste novus? Quo nunc, quo tenditis inquit, heu, miserae cives? Non hostem inimicaque castra Argivum, vestras spes uritis. En, ego vester
Ascanius! Galeam ante pedes proiecit inanem, qua ludo indutus belli simulacra ciebat; accelerat simul Aeneas, simul agmina Teucrum. Ast illae diversa metu per litora passim diffugiunt, silvasque et sicubi concava furtim saxa petunt; piget incepti lucisque, suosque mutatae adgnoscunt, excussaque pectore Iuno est. Sed non idcirco flammae atque incendia vires indomitas posuere; udo sub robore vivit stuppa vomens tardum fumum, lentusque carinas est vapor, et toto descendit corpore pestis, nec vires heroum infusaque flumina prosunt.
Tum pius Aeneas umeris abscindere vestem, auxilioque vocare deos, et tendere palmas: Iuppiter omnipotens, si nondum exosus ad unum Troianos, si quid pietas antiqua labores respicit humanos, da flammam evadere classi nunc, Pater, et tenues Teucrum res eripe leto. Vel tu, quod superest infesto fulmine morti, si mereor, demitte, tuaque hic obrue dextra. Vix haec ediderat, cum effusis imbribus atra tempestas sine more furit, tonitruque tremescunt ardua terrarum et campi; ruit aethere toto turbidus imber aqua densisque nigerrimus austris;
implenturque super puppes; semiusta madescunt robora; restinctus donec vapor omnis, et omnes, quattuor amissis, servatae a peste carinae. At pater Aeneas, casu concussus acerbo, nunc huc ingentes, nunc illuc pectore curas mutabat versans, Siculisne resideret arvis, oblitus fatorum, Italasne capesseret oras. Tum senior Nautes, unum Tritonia Pallas quem docuit multaque insignem reddidit arte, haec responsa dabat, vel quae portenderet ira magna deum, vel quae fatorum posceret ordo; isque his Aenean solatus vocibus infit:
Nate dea, quo fata trahunt retrahuntque, sequamur; quidquid erit, superanda omnis fortuna ferendo est. Est tibi Dardanius divinae stirpis Acestes: hunc cape consiliis socium et coniunge volentem; huic trade, amissis superant qui navibus, et quos pertaesum magni incepti rerumque tuarum est; longaevosque senes ac fessas aequore matres, et quidquid tecum invalidum metuensque pericli est, delige, et his habeant terris sine moenia fessi: urbem appellabunt permisso nomine Acestam. Talibus incensus dictis senioris amici, tum vero in curas animo diducitur omnes.
Et nox atra polum bigis subvecta tenebat: visa dehinc caelo facies delapsa parentis Anchisae subito tales effundere voces: Nate, mihi vita quondam, dum vita manebat, care magis, nate, Iliacis exercite fatis, imperio Iovis huc venio, qui classibus ignem depulit, et caelo tandem miseratus ab alto est. Consiliis pare, quae nunc pulcherrima Nautes dat senior; lectos iuvenes, fortissima corda, defer in Italiam; gens dura atque aspera cultu debellanda tibi Latio est. Ditis tamen ante infernas accede domos, et Averna per alta
congressus pete, nate, meos. Non me impia namque Tartara habent, tristes umbrae, sed amoena piorum concilia Elysiumque colo. Huc casta Sibylla nigrarum multo pecudum te sanguine ducet: tum genus omne tuum, et quae dentur moenia, disces. Iamque vale: torquet medios Nox humida cursus, et me saevus equis Oriens adflavit anhelis. Dixerat, et tenuis fugit, ceu fumus, in auras. Aeneas, Quo deinde ruis, quo proripis? inquit, Quem fugis, aut quis te nostris complexibus arcet? Haec memorans cinerem et sopitos suscitat ignes, Pergameumque Larem et canae penetralia Vestae
farre pio et plena supplex veneratur acerra. Extemplo socios primumque arcessit Acesten, et Iovis imperium et cari praecepta parentis edocet, et quae nunc animo sententia constet. Haud mora consiliis, nec iussa recusat Acestes. Transcribunt urbi matres, populumque volentem deponunt, animos nil magnae laudis egentes. Ipsi transtra novant, flammisque ambesa reponunt robora navigiis, aptant remosque rudentesque, exigui numero, sed bello vivida virtus. Interea Aeneas urbem designat aratro sortiturque domos; hoc Ilium et haec loca Troiam
esse iubet. Gaudet regno Troianus Acestes, indicitque forum et patribus dat iura vocatis. Tum vicina astris, Erycino in vertice sedes fundatur Veneri Idaliae, tumuloque sacerdos ac lucus late sacer additur Anchiseo. Iamque dies epulata novem gens omnis, et aris factus honos: placidi straverunt aequora venti, creber et adspirans rursus vocat Auster in altum. Exoritur procurva ingens per litora fletus; complexi inter se noctemque diemque morantur. Ipsae iam matres, ipsi, quibus aspera quondam visa maris facies et non tolerabile nomen,
ire volunt, omnemque fugae perferre laborem. Quos bonus Aeneas dictis solatur amicis, et consanguineo lacrimans commendat Acestae. Tris Eryci vitulos et Tempestatibus agnam caedere deinde iubet, solvique ex ordine funem. Ipse, caput tonsae foliis evinctus olivae, stans procul in prora pateram tenet, extaque salsos proiicit in fluctus ac vina liquentia fundit. Prosequitur surgens a puppi ventus euntes. Certatim socii feriunt mare et aequora verrunt. At Venus interea Neptunum exercita curis adloquitur, talesque effundit pectore questus:
Iunonis gravis ira nec exsaturabile pectus cogunt me, Neptune, preces descendere in omnes; quam nec longa dies, pietas nec mitigat ulla, nec Iovis imperio fatisque infracta quiescit. Non media de gente Phrygum exedisse nefandis urbem odiis satis est, nec poenam traxe per omnem: reliquias Troiae, cineres atque ossa peremptae insequitur: causas tanti sciat illa furoris. Ipse mihi nuper Libycis tu testis in undis quam molem subito excierit: maria omnia caelo miscuit, Aeoliis nequiquam freta procellis, in regnis hoc ausa tuis.
Per scelus ecce etiam Troianis matribus actis exussit foede puppes, et classe subegit amissa socios ignotae linquere terrae. Quod superest, oro, liceat dare tuta per undas vela tibi, liceat Laurentem attingere Thybrim: si concessa peto, si dant ea moenia Parcae. Tum Saturnius haec domitor maris edidit alti: Fas omne est, Cytherea, meis te fidere regnis, unde genus ducis: merui quoque; saepe furores compressi, et rabiem tantam caelique marisque. Nec minor in terris, Xanthum Simoëntaque testor, Aeneae mihi cura tui. Cum Troia Achilles
exanimata sequens impingeret agmina muris, milia multa daret leto, gemerentque repleti amnes, nec reperire viam atque evolvere posset in mare se Xanthus, Pelidae tunc ego forti congressum Aenean nec dis nec viribus aequis nube cava rapui, cuperem cum vertere ab imo structa meis manibus periurae moenia Troiae. Nunc quoque mens eadem perstat mihi: pelle timores. Tutus, quos optas, portus accedet Averni. Unus erit tantum, amissum quem gurgite quaeres; unum pro multis dabitur caput. His ubi laeta deae permulsit pectora dictis,
iungit equos auro genitor, spumantiaque addit frena feris, manibusque omnes effundit habenas. Caeruleo per summa levis volat aequora curru; subsidunt undae, tumidumque sub axe tonanti sternitur aequor aquis; fugiunt vasto aethere nimbi. Tum variae comitum facies, immania cete, et senior Glauci chorus, Inousque Palaemon, Tritonesque citi, Phorcique exercitus omnis; laeva tenent Thetis, et Melite, Panopeaque virgo, Nisaee, Spioque, Thaliaque, Cymodoceque. Hic patris Aeneae suspensam blanda vicissim gaudia pertemptant mentem: iubet ocius omnes
attolli malos, intendi brachia velis. Una omnes fecere pedem pariterque sinistros, nunc dextros solvere sinus; una ardua torquent cornua detorquentque; ferunt sua flamina classem. Princeps ante omnes densum Palinurus agebat agmen; ad hunc alii cursum contendere iussi. Iamque fere mediam caeli Nox humida metam contigerat; placida laxabant membra quiete sub remis fusi per dura sedilia nautae: cum levis aetheriis delapsus Somnus ab astris aëra dimovit tenebrosum et dispulit umbras, te, Palinure, petens, tibi somnia tristia portans
insonti; puppique deus consedit in alta, Phorbanti similis, funditque has ore loquelas: Iaside Palinure, ferunt ipsa aequora classem; aequatae spirant aurae; datur hora quieti. Pone caput, fessosque oculos furare labori: ipse ego paulisper pro te tua munera inibo. Cui vix attollens Palinurus lumina fatur: Mene salis placidi voltum fluctusque quietos ignorare iubes? Mene huic confidere monstro? Aenean credam quid enim fallacibus auris et caelo, totiens deceptus fraude sereni? Talia dicta dabat, clavumque affixus et haerens
nusquam amittebat, oculosque sub astra tenebat. Ecce deus ramum Lethaeo rore madentem, vique soporatum Stygia, super utraque quassat tempora, cunctantique natantia lumina solvit. Vix primos inopina quies laxaverat artus, et super incumbens cum puppis parte revolsa, cumque gubernaclo, liquidas proiecit in undas praecipitem ac socios nequiquam saepe vocantem; ipse volans tenues se sustulit ales ad auras. Currit iter tutum non secius aequore classis, promissisque patris Neptuni interrita fertur. Iamque adeo scopulos Sirenum advecta subibat,
difficiles quondam multorumque ossibus albos, tum rauca adsiduo longe sale saxa sonabant: cum pater amisso fluitantem errare magistro sensit, et ipse ratem nocturnis rexit in undis, multa gemens, casuque animum concussus amici O nimium caelo et pelago confise sereno, nudus in ignota, Palinure, iacebis harena!
Book 6
Sic fatur lacrimans, classique immittit habenas, et tandem Euboïcis Cumarum adlabitur oris. Obvertunt pelago proras; tum dente tenaci ancora fundabat naves, et litora curvae praetexunt puppes. Iuvenum manus emicat ardens litus in Hesperium; quaerit pars semina flammae abstrusa in venis silicis, pars densa ferarum tecta rapit silvas, inventaque flumina monstrat. At pius Aeneas arces, quibus altus Apollo praesidet, horrendaeque procul secreta Sibyllae antrum immane petit, magnum cui mentem animumque Delius inspirat vates, aperitque futura.
Iam subeunt Triviae lucos atque aurea tecta. Daedalus, ut fama est, fugiens Minoïa regna, praepetibus pennis ausus se credere caelo, insuetum per iter gelidas enavit ad Arctos, Chalcidicaque levis tandem super adstitit arce. Redditus his primum terris, tibi, Phoebe, sacravit remigium alarum, posuitque immania templa. In foribus letum Androgeo: tum pendere poenas Cecropidae iussi—miserum!—septena quotannis corpora natorum; stat ductis sortibus urna. Contra elata mari respondet Gnosia tellus: hic crudelis amor tauri, suppostaque furto
Pasiphaë, mixtumque genus prolesque biformis Minotaurus inest, Veneris monumenta nefandae; hic labor ille domus et inextricabilis error; magnum reginae sed enim miseratus amorem Daedalus ipse dolos tecti ambagesque resolvit, caeca regens filo vestigia. Tu quoque magnam partem opere in tanto, sineret dolor, Icare, haberes. Bis conatus erat casus effingere in auro; bis patriae cecidere manus. Quin protinus omnia perlegerent oculis, ni iam praemissus Achates adforet, atque una Phoebi Triviaeque sacerdos, Deiphobe Glauci, fatur quae talia regi:
Non hoc ista sibi tempus spectacula poscit; nunc grege de intacto septem mactare iuvencos praestiterit, totidem lectas de more bidentes. Talibus adfata Aenean (nec sacra morantur iussa viri), Teucros vocat alta in templa sacerdos. Excisum Euboicae latus ingens rupis in antrum, quo lati ducunt aditus centum, ostia centum; unde ruunt totidem voces, responsa Sibyllae. Ventum erat ad limen, cum virgo. Poscere fata tempus ait; deus, ecce, deus! Cui talia fanti ante fores subito non voltus, non color unus, non comptae mansere comae; sed pectus anhelum,
et rabie fera corda tument; maiorque videri, nec mortale sonans, adflata est numine quando iam propiore dei. Cessas in vota precesque, Tros ait Aenea? Cessas? Neque enim ante dehiscent attonitae magna ora domus. Et talia fata conticuit. Gelidus Teucris per dura cucurrit ossa tremor, funditque preces rex pectore ab imo: Phoebe, graves Troiae semper miserate labores, Dardana qui Paridis direxti tela manusque corpus in Aeacidae, magnas obeuntia terras tot maria intravi duce te, penitusque repostas Massylum gentes praetentaque Syrtibus arva,
iam tandem Italiae fugientis prendimus oras; hac Troiana tenus fuerit Fortuna secuta. Vos quoque Pergameae iam fas est parcere genti, dique deaeque omnes quibus obstitit Ilium et ingens gloria Dardaniae. Tuque, O sanctissima vates, praescia venturi, da, non indebita posco regna meis fatis, Latio considere Teucros errantisque deos agitataque numina Troiae. Tum Phoebo et Triviae solido de marmore templum instituam, festosque dies de nomine Phoebi. Te quoque magna manent regnis penetralia nostris: hic ego namque tuas sortes arcanaque fata,
dicta meae genti, ponam, lectosque sacrabo, alma, viros. Foliis tantum ne carmina manda, ne turbata volent rapidis ludibria ventis; ipsa canas oro. Finem dedit ore loquendi. At, Phoebi nondum patiens, immanis in antro bacchatur vates, magnum si pectore possit excussisse deum; tanto magis ille fatigat os rabidum, fera corda domans, fingitque premendo. Ostia iamque domus patuere ingentia centum sponte sua, vatisque ferunt responsa per auras: O tandem magnis pelagi defuncte periclis! Sed terrae graviora manent. In regna Lavini
Dardanidae venient; mitte hanc de pectore curam; sed non et venisse volent. Bella, horrida bella, et Thybrim multo spumantem sanguine cerno. Non Simois tibi, nec Xanthus, nec Dorica castra defuerint; alius Latio iam partus Achilles, natus et ipse dea; nec Teucris addita Iuno usquam aberit; cum tu supplex in rebus egenis quas gentes Italum aut quas non oraveris urbes! Causa mali tanti coniunx iterum hospita Teucris externique iterum thalami. Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito, qua tua te Fortuna sinet. Via prima salutis,
quod minime reris, Graia pandetur ab urbe. Talibus ex adyto dictis Cumaea Sibylla horrendas canit ambages antroque remugit, obscuris vera involvens: ea frena furenti concutit, et stimulos sub pectore vertit Apollo. Ut primum cessit furor et rabida ora quierunt, incipit Aeneas heros: Non ulla laborum, O virgo, nova mi facies inopinave surgit; omnia praecepi atque animo mecum ante peregi. Unum oro: quando hic inferni ianua regis dicitur, et tenebrosa palus Acheronte refuso, ire ad conspectum cari genitoris et ora
contingat; doceas iter et sacra ostia pandas. Illum ego per flammas et mille sequentia tela eripui his umeris, medioque ex hoste recepi; ille meum comitatus iter, maria omnia mecum atque omnes pelagique minas caelique ferebat, invalidus, vires ultra sortemque senectae. Quin, ut te supplex peterem et tua limina adirem, idem orans mandata dabat. Gnatique patrisque, alma, precor, miserere;—potes namque omnia, nec te nequiquam lucis Hecate praefecit Avernis;— si potuit Manes arcessere coniugis Orpheus, Threïcia fretus cithara fidibusque canoris,
si fratrem Pollux alterna morte redemit, itque reditque viam totiens. Quid Thesea, magnum quid memorem Alciden? Et mi genus ab Iove summo. Talibus orabat dictis, arasque tenebat, cum sic orsa loqui vates: Sate sanguine divom, Tros Anchisiade, facilis descensus Averno; noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis; sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras, hoc opus, hic labor est. Pauci, quos aequus amavit Iuppiter, aut ardens evexit ad aethera virtus, dis geniti potuere. Tenent media omnia silvae, Cocytusque sinu labens circumvenit atro.
Quod si tantus amor menti, si tanta cupido est, bis Stygios innare lacus, bis nigra videre Tartara, et insano iuvat indulgere labori, accipe, quae peragenda prius. Latet arbore opaca aureus et foliis et lento vimine ramus, Iunoni infernae dictus sacer; hunc tegit omnis lucus, et obscuris claudunt convallibus umbrae. Sed non ante datur telluris operta subire, auricomos quam quis decerpserit arbore fetus. Hoc sibi pulchra suum ferri Proserpina munus instituit. Primo avulso non deficit alter aureus, et simili frondescit virga metallo.
Ergo alte vestiga oculis, et rite repertum carpe manu; namque ipse volens facilisque sequetur, si te fata vocant; aliter non viribus ullis vincere, nec duro poteris convellere ferro. Praeterea iacet exanimum tibi corpus amici— heu nescis—totamque incestat funere classem, dum consulta petis nostroque in limine pendes. Sedibus hunc refer ante suis et conde sepulchro. Duc nigras pecudes; ea prima piacula sunto: sic demum lucos Stygis et regna invia vivis aspicies. Dixit, pressoque obmutuit ore. Aeneas maesto defixus lumina voltu
ingreditur, linquens antrum, caecosque volutat eventus animo secum. Cui fidus Achates it comes, et paribus curis vestigia figit. Multa inter sese vario sermone serebant, quem socium exanimem vates, quod corpus humandum diceret. Atque illi Misenum in litore sicco, ut venere, vident indigna morte peremptum, Misenum Aeoliden, quo non praestantior alter aere ciere viros, Martemque accendere cantu. Hectoris hic magni fuerat comes, Hectora circum et lituo pugnas insignis obibat et hasta: postquam illum vita victor spoliavit Achilles,
Dardanio Aeneae sese fortissimus heros addiderat socium, non inferiora secutus. Sed tum, forte cava dum personat aequora concha, demens, et cantu vocat in certamina divos, aemulus exceptum Triton, si credere dignum est, inter saxa virum spumosa inmerserat unda. Ergo omnes magno circum clamore fremebant, praecipue pius Aeneas. Tum iussa Sibyllae, haud mora, festinant flentes, aramque sepulchri congerere arboribus caeloque educere certant. Itur in antiquam silvam, stabula alta ferarum; procumbunt piceae, sonat icta securibus ilex,
fraxineaeque trabes cuneis et fissile robur scinditur, advolvunt ingentis montibus ornos. Nec non Aeneas opera inter talia primus hortatur socios, paribusque accingitur armis. Atque haec ipse suo tristi cum corde volutat, aspectans silvam inmensam, et sic voce precatur: Si nunc se nobis ille aureus arbore ramus ostendat nemore in tanto, quando omnia vere heu nimium de te vates, Misene, locuta est. Vix ea fatus erat, geminae cum forte columbae ipsa sub ora viri caelo venere volantes, et viridi sedere solo. Tum maximus heros
maternas agnoscit aves, laetusque precatur: Este duces, O, si qua via est, cursumque per auras dirigite in lucos, ubi pinguem dives opacat ramus humum. Tuque, O, dubiis ne defice rebus, diva parens. Sic effatus vestigia pressit, observans quae signa ferant, quo tendere pergant. Pascentes illae tantum prodire volando, quantum acie possent oculi servare sequentum. Inde ubi venere ad fauces grave olentis Averni, tollunt se celeres, liquidumque per aëra lapsae sedibus optatis geminae super arbore sidunt, discolor unde auri per ramos aura refulsit.
Quale solet silvis brumali frigore viscum fronde virere nova, quod non sua seminat arbos, et croceo fetu teretis circumdare truncos, talis erat species auri frondentis opaca ilice, sic leni crepitabat brattea vento. Corripit Aeneas extemplo avidusque refringit cunctantem, et vatis portat sub tecta Sibyllae. Nec minus interea Misenum in litore Teucri flebant, et cineri ingrato suprema ferebant. Principio pinguem taedis et robore secto ingentem struxere pyram, cui frondibus atris intexunt latera, et ferales ante cupressos
constituunt, decorantque super fulgentibus armis. Pars calidos latices et aëna undantia flammis expediunt, corpusque lavant frigentis et unguunt. Fit gemitus. Tum membra toro defleta reponunt, purpureasque super vestes, velamina nota, coniciunt. Pars ingenti subiere feretro, triste ministerium, et subiectam more parentum aversi tenuere facem. Congesta cremantur turea dona, dapes, fuso crateres olivo. Postquam conlapsi cineres et flamma quievit reliquias vino et bibulam lavere favillam, ossaque lecta cado texit Corynaeus aëno.
Idem ter socios pura circumtulit unda, spargens rore levi et ramo felicis olivae, lustravitque viros, dixitque novissima verba. At pius Aeneas ingenti mole sepulcrum imponit, suaque arma viro, remumque tubamque, monte sub aërio, qui nunc Misenus ab illo dicitur, aeternumque tenet per saecula nomen. His actis, propere exsequitur praecepta Sibyllae. Spelunca alta fuit vastoque immanis hiatu, scrupea, tuta lacu nigro nemorumque tenebris, quam super haud ullae poterant impune volantes tendere iter pennis—talis sese halitus atris
faucibus effundens supera ad convexa ferebat: quattuor hic primum nigrantis terga iuvencos constituit, frontique invergit vina sacerdos; et summas carpens media inter cornua saetas ignibus imponit sacris, libamina prima, voce vocans Hecaten, Caeloque Ereboque potentem. Supponunt alii cultros, tepidumque cruorem suscipiunt pateris. Ipse atri velleris agnam Aeneas matri Eumenidum magnaeque sorori ense ferit, sterilemque tibi. Proserpina, vaccam. Tum Stygio regi nocturnas inchoat aras, et solida imponit taurorum viscera flammis,
pingue superque oleum infundens ardentibus extis. Ecce autem, primi sub lumina solis et ortus, sub pedibus mugire solum, et iuga coepta moveri silvarum, visaeque canes ululare per umbram, adventante dea. Procul O procul este, profani, conclamat vates, totoque absistite luco; tuque invade viam, vaginaque eripe ferrum: nunc animis opus, Aenea, nunc pectore firmo. Tantum effata, furens antro se immisit aperto; ille ducem haud timidis vadentem passibus aequat. Di, quibus imperium est animarum, umbraeque silentes, et Chaos, et Phlegethon, loca nocte tacentia late,
sit mihi fas audita loqui; sit numine vestro pandere res alta terra et caligine mersas! Ibant obscuri sola sub nocte per umbram, perque domos Ditis vacuas et inania regna: quale per incertam lunam sub luce maligna est iter in silvis, ubi caelum condidit umbra Iuppiter, et rebus nox abstulit atra colorem. Vestibulum ante ipsum, primisque in faucibus Orci Luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; pallentesque habitant Morbi, tristisque Senectus, et Metus, et malesuada Fames, ac turpis Egestas, terribiles visu formae: Letumque, Labosque;
tum consanguineus Leti Sopor, et mala mentis Gaudia, mortiferumque adverso in limine Bellum, ferreique Eumenidum thalami, et Discordia demens, vipereum crinem vittis innexa cruentis. In medio ramos annosaque brachia pandit ulmus opaca, ingens, quam sedem Somnia volgo vana tenere ferunt, foliisque sub omnibus haerent. Multaque praeterea variarum monstra ferarum: Centauri in foribus stabulant, Scyllaeque biformes, et centumgeminus Briareus, ac belua Lernae horrendum stridens, flammisque armata Chimaera, Gorgones Harpyiaeque et forma tricorporis umbrae.
Corripit hic subita trepidus formidine ferrum Aeneas, strictamque aciem venientibus offert, et, ni docta comes tenues sine corpore vitas admoneat volitare cava sub imagine formae, inruat, et frustra ferro diverberet umbras. Hinc via, Tartarei quae fert Acherontis ad undas. Turbidus hic caeno vastaque voragine gurges aestuat, atque omnem Cocyto eructat harenam. Portitor has horrendus aquas et flumina servat terribili squalore Charon, cui plurima mento canities inculta iacet; stant lumina flamma, sordidus ex umeris nodo dependet amictus.
Ipse ratem conto subigit, velisque ministrat, et ferruginea subvectat corpora cymba, iam senior, sed cruda deo viridisque senectus. Huc omnis turba ad ripas effusa ruebat, matres atque viri, defunctaque corpora vita magnanimum heroum, pueri innuptaeque puellae, impositique rogis iuvenes ante ora parentum: quam multa in silvis autumni frigore primo lapsa cadunt folia, aut ad terram gurgite ab alto quam multae glomerantur aves, ubi frigidus annus trans pontum fugat, et terris immittit apricis. Stabant orantes primi transmittere cursum,
tendebantque manus ripae ulterioris amore. Navita sed tristis nunc hos nunc accipit illos, ast alios longe submotos arcet harena. Aeneas, miratus enim motusque tumultu, Dic ait O virgo, quid volt concursus ad amnem? Quidve petunt animae, vel quo discrimine ripas hae linquunt, illae remis vada livida verrunt? Olli sic breviter fata est longaeva sacerdos: Anchisa generate, deum certissima proles, Cocyti stagna alta vides Stygiamque paludem, di cuius iurare timent et fallere numen. Haec omnis, quam cernis, inops inhumataque turba est;
portitor ille Charon; hi, quos vehit unda, sepulti. Nec ripas datur horrendas et rauca fluenta transportare prius quam sedibus ossa quierunt. Centum errant annos volitantque haec litora circum; tum demum admissi stagna exoptata revisunt. Constitit Anchisa satus et vestigia pressit, multa putans, sortemque animo miseratus iniquam. Cernit ibi maestos et mortis honore carentes Leucaspim et Lyciae ductorem classis Oronten, quos, simul ab Troia ventosa per aequora vectos, obruit Auster, aqua involvens navemque virosque. Ecce gubernator sese Palinurus agebat,
qui Libyco nuper cursu, dum sidera servat, exciderat puppi mediis effusus in undis. Hunc ubi vix multa maestum cognovit in umbra, sic prior adloquitur: Quis te, Palinure, deorum eripuit nobis, medioque sub aequore mersit? Dic age. Namque mihi, fallax haud ante repertus, hoc uno responso animum delusit Apollo, qui fore te ponto incolumem, finesque canebat venturum Ausonios. En haec promissa fides est? Ille autem: Neque te Phoebi cortina fefellit, dux Anchisiade, nec me deus aequore mersit. Namque gubernaclum multa vi forte revolsum,
cui datus haerebam custos cursusque regebam, praecipitans traxi mecum. Maria aspera iuro non ullum pro me tantum cepisse timorem, quam tua ne, spoliata armis, excussa magistro, deficeret tantis navis surgentibus undis. Tris Notus hibernas immensa per aequora noctes vexit me violentus aqua; vix lumine quarto prospexi Italiam summa sublimis ab unda. Paulatim adnabam terrae; iam tuta tenebam, ni gens crudelis madida cum veste gravatum prensantemque uncis manibus capita aspera montis ferro invasisset, praedamque ignara putasset.
Nunc me fluctus habet, versantque in litore venti. Quod te per caeli iucundum lumen et auras, per genitorem oro, per spes surgentis Iuli, eripe me his, invicte, malis: aut tu mihi terram inice, namque potes, portusque require Velinos; aut tu, si qua via est, si quam tibi diva creatrix ostendit—neque enim, credo, sine numine divom flumina tanta paras Stygiamque innare paludem— da dextram misero, et tecum me tolle per undas, sedibus ut saltem placidis in morte quiescam. Talia fatus erat, coepit cum talia vates: Unde haec, o Palinure, tibi tam dira cupido?
Tu Stygias inhumatus aquas amnemque severum Eumenidum aspicies, ripamve iniussus adibis? Desine fata deum flecti sperare precando. Sed cape dicta memor, duri solatia casus. Nam tua finitimi, longe lateque per urbes prodigiis acti caelestibus, ossa piabunt, et statuent tumulum, et tumulo sollemnia mittent, aeternumque locus Palinuri nomen habebit. His dictis curae emotae, pulsusque parumper corde dolor tristi: gaudet cognomine terrae. Ergo iter inceptum peragunt fluvioque propinquant. Navita quos iam inde ut Stygia prospexit ab unda
per tacitum nemus ire pedemque advertere ripae, sic prior adgreditur dictis, atque increpat ultro: Quisquis es, armatus qui nostra ad flumina tendis, fare age, quid venias, iam istinc, et comprime gressum. Umbrarum hic locus est, somni noctisque soporae; corpora viva nefas Stygia vectare carina. Nec vero Alciden me sum laetatus euntem accepisse lacu, nec Thesea Pirithoumque, dis quamquam geniti atque invicti viribus essent. Tartareum ille manu custodem in vincla petivit, ipsius a solio regis, traxitque trementem; hi dominam Ditis thalamo deducere adorti.
Quae contra breviter fata est Amphrysia vates: Nullae hic insidiae tales; absiste moveri; nec vim tela ferunt; licet ingens ianitor antro aeternum latrans exsanguis terreat umbras, casta licet patrui servet Proserpina limen. Troius Aeneas, pietate insignis et armis, ad genitorem imas Erebi descendit ad umbras. Si te nulla movet tantae pietatis imago, at ramum hunc (aperit ramum, qui veste latebat) adgnoscas. Tumida ex ira tum corda residunt. Nec plura his. Ille admirans venerabile donum fatalis virgae, longo post tempore visum,
caeruleam advertit puppim, ripaeque propinquat. Inde alias animas, quae per iuga longa sedebant, deturbat, laxatque foros; simul accipit alveo ingentem Aenean. Gemuit sub pondere cymba sutilis, et multam accepit rimosa paludem. Tandem trans fluvium incolumis vatemque virumque informi limo glaucaque exponit in ulva. Cerberus haec ingens latratu regna trifauci personat, adverso recubans immanis in antro. Cui vates, horrere videns iam colla colubris, melle soporatam et medicatis frugibus offam obicit. Ille fame rabida tria guttura pandens
corripit obiectam, atque immania terga resolvit fusus humi, totoque ingens extenditur antro. Occupat Aeneas aditum custode sepulto, evaditque celer ripam inremeabilis undae. Continuo auditae voces, vagitus et ingens, infantumque animae flentes in limine primo, quos dulcis vitae exsortes et ab ubere raptos abstulit atra dies et funere mersit acerbo; hos iuxta falso damnati crimine mortis. Nec vero hae sine sorte datae, sine iudice, sedes: quaesitor Minos urnam movet; ille silentum conciliumque vocat vitasque et crimina discit.
Proxuma deinde tenent maesti loca, qui sibi letum insontes peperere manu, lucemque perosi proiecere animas. Quam vellent aethere in alto nunc et pauperiem et duros perferre labores! Fas obstat, tristisque palus inamabilis undae alligat, et noviens Styx interfusa coërcet. Nec procul hinc partem fusi monstrantur in omnem lugentes campi: sic illos nomine dicunt. Hic, quos durus amor crudeli tabe peredit, secreti celant calles et myrtea circum silva tegit; curae non ipsa in morte relinquunt. His Phaedram Procrimque locis, maestamque Eriphylen
crudelis nati monstrantem volnera, cernit, Evadnenque et Pasiphaën; his Laodamia it comes, et iuvenis quondam, nunc femina, Caeneus, rursus et in veterem fato revoluta figuram. Inter quas Phoenissa recens a volnere Dido errabat silva in magna; quam Troius heros ut primum iuxta stetit adgnovitque per umbras obscuram, qualem primo qui surgere mense aut videt, aut vidisse putat per nubila lunam, demisit lacrimas, dulcique adfatus amore est: Infelix Dido, verus mihi nuntius ergo venerat exstinctam, ferroque extrema secutam?
Funeris heu tibi causa fui? Per sidera iuro, per superos, et si qua fides tellure sub ima est, invitus, regina, tuo de litore cessi. Sed me iussa deum, quae nunc has ire per umbras, per loca senta situ cogunt noctemque profundam, imperiis egere suis; nec credere quivi hunc tantum tibi me discessu ferre dolorem. Siste gradum, teque aspectu ne subtrahe nostro. Quem fugis? Extremum fato, quod te adloquor, hoc est. Talibus Aeneas ardentem et torva tuentem lenibat dictis animum, lacrimasque ciebat. Illa solo fixos oculos aversa tenebat,
nec magis incepto voltum sermone movetur, quam si dura silex aut stet Marpesia cautes. tandem corripuit sese, atque inimica refugit in nemus umbriferum, coniunx ubi pristinus illi respondet curis aequatque Sychaeus amorem. Nec minus Aeneas, casu concussus iniquo, prosequitur lacrimis longe, et miseratur euntem. Inde datum molitur iter. Iamque arva tenebant ultima, quae bello clari secreta frequentant. Hic illi occurrit Tydeus, hic inclutus armis Parthenopaeus et Adrasti pallentis imago; hic multum fleti ad superos belloque caduci
Dardanidae, quos ille omnes longo ordine cernens ingemuit, Glaucumque Medontaque Thersilochumque, tris Antenoridas, Cererique sacrum Polyphoeten, Idaeumque, etiam currus, etiam arma tenentem. circumstant animae dextra laevaque frequentes; nec vidisse semel satis est; iuvat usque morari, et conferre gradum, et veniendi discere causas. At Danaum proceres Agamemnoniaeque phalanges ut videre virum fulgentiaque arma per umbras, ingenti trepidare metu; pars vertere terga, ceu quondam petiere rates; pars tollere vocem exiguam, inceptus clamor frustratur hiantes.
Atque hic Priamiden laniatum corpore toto Deiphobum videt et lacerum crudeliter ora, ora manusque ambas, populataque tempora raptis auribus, et truncas inhonesto volnere nares. Vix adeo adgnovit pavitantem et dira tegentem supplicia, et notis compellat vocibus ultro: Deiphobe armipotens, genus alto a sanguine Teucri quis tam crudeles optavit sumere poenas? Cui tantum de te licuit? Mihi fama suprema nocte tulit fessum vasta te caede Pelasgum procubuisse super confusae stragis acervum. Tunc egomet tumulum Rhoeteo litore inanem
constitui, et magna Manes ter voce vocavi. Nomen et arma locum servant; te, amice, nequivi conspicere, et patria decedens ponere terra. Ad quae Priamides: Nihil O tibi amice relictum; omnia Deiphobo solvisti et funeris umbris. Sed me fata mea et scelus exitiale Lacaenae his mersere malis; illa haec monumenta reliquit. Namque ut supremam falsa inter gaudia noctem egerimus, nosti; et nimium meminisse necesse est. Cum fatalis equus saltu super ardua venit Pergama, et armatum peditem gravis attulit alvo, illa, chorum simulans, evantes orgia circum
ducebat Phrygias; flammam media ipsa tenebat ingentem, et summa Danaos ex arce vocabat. Tum me, confectum curis somnoque gravatum, infelix habuit thalamus, pressitque iacentem dulcis et alta quies placidaeque simillima morti. Egregia interea coniunx arma omnia tectis amovet, et fidum capiti subduxerat ensem; intra tecta vocat Menelaum, et limina pandit, scilicet id magnum sperans fore munus amanti, et famam exstingui veterum sic posse malorum. Quid moror? Inrumpunt thalamo; comes additur una hortator scelerum Aeolides. Di, talia Grais
instaurate, pio si poenas ore reposco! Sed te qui vivum casus, age, fare vicissim, attulerint. Pelagine venis erroribus actus, an monitu divom? An quae te Fortuna fatigat, ut tristes sine sole domos, loca turbida, adires? Hac vice sermonum roseïs Aurora quadrigis iam medium aetherio cursu traiecerat axem; et fors omne datum traherent per talia tempus; sed comes admonuit, breviterque adfata Sibylla est: Nox ruit, Aenea; nos flendo ducimus horas. Hic locus est, partes ubi se via findit in ambas: dextera quae Ditis magni sub moenia tendit,
hac iter Elysium nobis; at laeva malorum exercet poenas, et ad impia Tartara mittit. Deiphobus contra: Ne saevi, magna sacerdos; discedam, explebo numerum, reddarque tenebris. I decus, i, nostrum; melioribus utere fatis! Tantum effatus, et in verbo vestigia torsit. Respicit Aeneas subito, et sub rupe sinistra moenia lata videt, triplici circumdata muro, quae rapidus flammis ambit torrentibus amnis, Tartareus Phlegethon, torquetque sonantia saxa. Porta adversa ingens, solidoque adamante columnae, vis ut nulla virum, non ipsi exscindere bello
caelicolae valeant; stat ferrea turris ad auras, Tisiphoneque sedens, palla succincta cruenta, vestibulum exsomnis servat noctesque diesque. Hinc exaudiri gemitus, et saeva sonare verbera; tum stridor ferri, tractaeque catenae. Constitit Aeneas, strepitumque exterritus hausit. Quae scelerum facies, O virgo, effare; quibusve urguentur poenis? Quis tantus plangor ad auras? Tum vates sic orsa loqui: Dux inclute Teucrum, nulli fas casto sceleratum insistere limen; sed me cum lucis Hecate praefecit Avernis, ipsa deum poenas docuit, perque omnia duxit.
Gnosius haec Rhadamanthus habet, durissima regna, castigatque auditque dolos, subigitque fateri, quae quis apud superos, furto laetatus inani, distulit in seram commissa piacula mortem. Continuo sontes ultrix accincta flagello Tisiphone quatit insultans, torvosque sinistra intentans angues vocat agmina saeva sororum. Tum demum horrisono stridentes cardine sacrae panduntur portae. Cernis custodia qualis vestibulo sedeat, facies quae limina servet? Quinquaginta atris immanis hiatibus Hydra saevior intus habet sedem. Tum Tartarus ipse
bis patet in praeceps tantum tenditque sub umbras, quantus ad aetherium caeli suspectus Olympum. Hic genus antiquum Terrae, Titania pubes, fulmine deiecti fundo volvuntur in imo. Hic et Aloidas geminos immania vidi corpora, qui manibus magnum rescindere caelum adgressi, superisque Iovem detrudere regnis. Vidi et crudeles dantem Salmonea poenas, dum flammas Iovis et sonitus imitatur Olympi. Quattuor hic invectus equis et lampada quassans per Graium populos mediaeque per Elidis urbem ibat ovans, divomque sibi poscebat honorem,—
demens, qui nimbos et non imitabile fulmen aere et cornipedum pulsu simularet equorum. At pater omnipotens densa inter nubila telum contorsit, non ille faces nec fumea taedis lumina, praecipitemque immani turbine adegit. Nec non et Tityon, Terrae omniparentis alumnum, cernere erat, per tota novem cui iugera corpus porrigitur, rostroque immanis voltur obunco immortale iecur tondens fecundaque poenis viscera, rimaturque epulis, habitatque sub alto pectore, nec fibris requies datur ulla renatis. quos super atra silex iam iam lapsura cadentique
imminet adsimilis; lucent genialibus altis aurea fulcra toris, epulaeque ante ora paratae regifico luxu; Furiarum maxima iuxta accubat, et manibus prohibet contingere mensas, exsurgitque facem attollens, atque intonat ore. Hic, quibus invisi fratres, dum vita manebat, pulsatusve parens, et fraus innexa clienti, aut qui divitiis soli incubuere repertis, nec partem posuere suis (quae maxima turba est), quique ob adulterium caesi, quique arma secuti impia nec veriti dominorum fallere dextras, inclusi poenam exspectant. Ne quaere doceri
quam poenam, aut quae forma viros fortunave mersit. Saxum ingens volvunt alii, radiisque rotarum districti pendent; sedet, aeternumque sedebit, infelix Theseus; Phlegyasque miserrimus omnis admonet, et magna testatur voce per umbras: Discite iustitiam moniti, et non temnere divos. Vendidit hic auro patriam, dominumque potentem imposuit; fixit leges pretio atque refixit; hic thalamum invasit natae vetitosque hymenaeos; ausi omnes immane nefas, ausoque potiti. Non, mihi si linguae centum sint oraque centum, ferrea vox, omnis scelerum comprendere formas,
omnia poenarum percurrere nomina possim. Haec ubi dicta dedit Phoebi longaeva sacerdos: Sed iam age, carpe viam et susceptum perfice munus; adceleremus ait; Cyclopum educta caminis moenia conspicio atque adverso fornice portas, haec ubi nos praecepta iubent deponere dona. Dixerat, et pariter, gressi per opaca viarum, corripiunt spatium medium, foribusque propinquant. Occupat Aeneas aditum, corpusque recenti spargit aqua, ramumque adverso in limine figit. His demum exactis, perfecto munere divae, devenere locos laetos et amoena virecta
fortunatorum nemorum sedesque beatas. Largior hic campos aether et lumine vestit purpureo, solemque suum, sua sidera norunt. Pars in gramineis exercent membra palaestris, contendunt ludo et fulva luctantur harena; pars pedibus plaudunt choreas et carmina dicunt. Nec non Threïcius longa cum veste sacerdos obloquitur numeris septem discrimina vocum, iamque eadem digitis, iam pectine pulsat eburno. Hic genus antiquum Teucri, pulcherrima proles, magnanimi heroes, nati melioribus annis, Ilusque Assaracusque et Troiae Dardanus auctor.
Arma procul currusque virum miratur inanes. Stant terra defixae hastae, passimque soluti per campum pascuntur equi. Quae gratia currum armorumque fuit vivis, quae cura nitentis pascere equos, eadem sequitur tellure repostos. Conspicit, ecce, alios dextra laevaque per herbam vescentis, laetumque choro paeana canentis inter odoratum lauri nemus, unde superne plurimus Eridani per silvam volvitur amnis. Hic manus ob patriam pugnando volnera passi, quique sacerdotes casti, dum vita manebat, quique pii vates et Phoebo digna locuti,
inventas aut qui vitam excoluere per artes, quique sui memores alios fecere merendo, omnibus his nivea cinguntur tempora vitta. Quos circumfusos sic est adfata Sybilla, Musaeum ante omnes, medium nam plurima turba hunc habet, atque umeris exstantem suspicit altis: Dicite, felices animae, tuque, optime vates, quae regio Anchisen, quis habet locus? Illius ergo venimus, et magnos Erebi transnavimus amnes. Atque huic responsum paucis ita reddidit heros: Nulli certa domus; lucis habitamus opacis, riparumque toros et prata recentia rivis
incolimus. Sed vos, si fert ita corde voluntas, hoc superate iugum; et facili iam tramite sistam. Dixit, et ante tulit gressum, camposque nitentis desuper ostentat; dehinc summa cacumina linquunt. At pater Anchises penitus convalle virenti inclusas animas superumque ad lumen ituras lustrabat studio recolens, omnemque suorum forte recensebat numerum carosque nepotes, fataque fortunasque virum moresque manusque. Isque ubi tendentem adversum per gramina videt Aenean, alacris palmas utrasque tetendit, effusaeque genis lacrimae, et vox excidit ore:
Venisti tandem, tuaque exspectata parenti vicit iter durum pietas? Datur ora tueri, nate, tua, et notas audire et reddere voces? Sic equidem ducebam animo rebarque futurum, tempora dinumerans, nec me mea cura fefellit. Quas ego te terras et quanta per aequora vectum accipio! quantis iactatum, nate, periclis! Quam metui, ne quid Libyae tibi regna nocerent! Ille autem: Tua me, genitor, tua tristis imago, saepius occurrens, haec limina tendere adegit: stant sale Tyrrheno classes. Da iungere dextram, da, genitor, teque amplexu ne subtrahe nostro.
Sic memorans, largo fletu simul ora rigabat. Ter conatus ibi collo dare brachia circum, ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago, Interea videt Aeneas in valle reducta seclusum nemus et virgulta sonantia silvis, Lethaeumque, domos placidas qui praenatat, amnem. Hunc circum innumerae gentes populique volabant; ac—velut in pratis ubi apes aestate serena floribus insidunt variis, et candida circum lilia funduntur—strepit omnis murmure campus. Horrescit visu subito, causasque requirit inscius Aeneas, quae sint ea flumina porro,
quive viri tanto complerint agmine ripas. Tum pater Anchises: Animae, quibus altera fato corpora debentur, Lethaei ad fluminis undam securos latices et longa oblivia potant. iampridem hanc prolem cupio enumerare meorum, quo magis Italia mecum laetere reperta. O pater, anne aliquas ad caelum hinc ire putandum est sublimis animas, iterumque ad tarda reverti corpora? Quae lucis miseris tam dira cupido? Dicam equidem, nec te suspensum, nate, tenebo suscipit Anchises, atque ordine singula pandit. Principio caelum ac terras camposque liquentis
lucentemque globum Lunae Titaniaque astra spiritus intus alit, totamque infusa per artus mens agitat molem et magno se corpore miscet. Inde hominum pecudumque genus, vitaeque volantum, et quae marmoreo fert monstra sub aequore pontus. Igneus est ollis vigor et caelestis origo seminibus, quantum non noxia corpora tardant, terrenique hebetant artus moribundaque membra. Hinc metuunt cupiuntque, dolent gaudentque, neque auras dispiciunt clausae tenebris et carcere caeco. Quin et supremo cum lumine vita reliquit, non tamen omne malum miseris nec funditus omnes
corporeae excedunt pestes, penitusque necesse est multa diu concreta modis inolescere miris. Ergo exercentur poenis, veterumque malorum supplicia expendunt: aliae panduntur inanes suspensae ad ventos; aliis sub gurgite vasto infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni; quisque suos patimur Manes; exinde per amplum mittimur Elysium, et pauci laeta arva tenemus; donec longa dies, perfecto temporis orbe, concretam exemit labem, purumque relinquit aetherium sensum atque auraï simplicis ignem. Has omnes, ubi mille rotam volvere per annos,
Lethaeum ad fluvium deus evocat agmine magno, scilicet immemores supera ut convexa revisant, rursus et incipiant in corpora velle reverti. Dixerat Anchises, natumque unaque Sibyllam conventus trahit in medios turbamque sonantem, et tumulum capit, unde omnes longo ordine possit adversos legere, et venientum discere vultus. Nunc age, Dardaniam prolem quae deinde sequatur gloria, qui maneant Itala de gente nepotes, inlustris animas nostrumque in nomen ituras, expediam dictis, et te tua fata docebo. Ille, vides, pura iuvenis qui nititur hasta,
proxuma sorte tenet lucis loca, primus ad auras aetherias Italo commixtus sanguine surget, silvius, Albanum nomen, tua postuma proles, quem tibi longaevo serum Lavinia coniunx educet silvis regem regumque parentem, unde genus Longa nostrum dominabitur Alba. Proxumus ille Procas, Troianae gloria gentis, et Capys, et Numitor, et qui te nomine reddet Silvius Aeneas, pariter pietate vel armis egregius, si umquam regnandam acceperit Albam. Qui iuvenes! Quantas ostentant, aspice, vires, atque umbrata gerunt civili tempora quercu!
Hi tibi Nomentum et Gabios urbemque Fidenam, hi Collatinas imponent montibus arces, Pometios Castrumque Inui Bolamque Coramque. Haec tum nomina erunt, nunc sunt sine nomine terrae. Quin et avo comitem sese Mavortius addet Romulus, Assaraci quem sanguinis Ilia mater educet. Viden, ut geminae stant vertice cristae, et pater ipse suo superum iam signat honore? En, huius, nate, auspiciis illa incluta Roma imperium terris, animos aequabit Olympo, septemque una sibi muro circumdabit arces, felix prole virum: qualis Berecyntia mater
invehitur curru Phrygias turrita per urbes, laeta deum partu, centum complexa nepotes, omnes caelicolas, omnes supera alta tenentes. Huc geminas nunc flecte acies, hanc aspice gentem Romanosque tuos. Hic Caesar et omnis Iuli progenies magnum caeli ventura sub axem. Hic vir, hic est, tibi quem promitti saepius audis, Augustus Caesar, Divi genus, aurea condet saecula qui rursus Latio regnata per arva Saturno quondam, super et Garamantas et Indos proferet imperium: iacet extra sidera tellus, extra anni solisque vias, ubi caelifer Atlas
axem umero torquet stellis ardentibus aptum. Huius in adventum iam nunc et Caspia regna responsis horrent divom et Maeotia tellus, et septemgemini turbant trepida ostia Nili. Nec vero Alcides tantum telluris obivit, fixerit aeripedem cervam licet, aut Erymanthi pacarit nemora, et Lernam tremefecerit arcu; nec, qui pampineis victor iuga flectit habenis, Liber, agens celso Nysae de vertice tigres. Et dubitamus adhuc virtute extendere vires, aut metus Ausonia prohibet consistere terra? Quis procul ille autem ramis insignis olivae
sacra ferens? Nosco crines incanaque menta regis Romani, primus qui legibus urbem fundabit, Curibus parvis et paupere terra missus in imperium magnum. Cui deinde subibit, otia qui rumpet patriae residesque movebit Tullus in arma viros et iam desueta triumphis agmina. Quem iuxta sequitur iactantior Ancus, nunc quoque iam nimium gaudens popularibus auris. Vis et Tarquinios reges, animamque superbam ultoris Bruti, fascesque videre receptos? Consulis imperium hic primus saevasque secures accipiet, natosque pater nova bella moventes
ad poenam pulchra pro libertate vocabit. Infelix, utcumque ferent ea facta minores, vincet amor patriae laudumque immensa cupido. Quin Decios Drusosque procul saevumque securi aspice Torquatum et referentem signa Camillum. Illae autem, paribus quas fulgere cernis in armis, concordes animae nunc et dum nocte premuntur, heu quantum inter se bellum, si lumina vitae attigerint, quantas acies stragemque ciebunt! Aggeribus socer Alpinis atque arce Monoeci descendens, gener adversis instructus Eois. Ne, pueri, ne tanta animis adsuescite bella,
neu patriae validas in viscera vertite vires; tuque prior, tu parce, genus qui ducis Olympo, proice tela manu, sanguis meus!— Ille triumphata Capitolia ad alta Corintho victor aget currum, caesis insignis Achivis. Eruet ille Argos Agamemnoniasque Mycenas, ipsumque Aeaciden, genus armipotentis Achilli, ultus avos Troiae, templa et temerata Minervae. Quis te, magne Cato, tacitum, aut te, Cosse, relinquat? Quis Gracchi genus, aut geminos, duo fulmina belli, Scipiadas, cladem Libyae, parvoque potentem Fabricium vel te sulco Serrane, serentem?
quo fessum rapitis, Fabii? Tu Maxumus ille es, unus qui nobis cunctando restituis rem. Excudent alii spirantia mollius aera, credo equidem, vivos ducent de marmore voltus, orabunt causas melius, caelique meatus describent radio, et surgentia sidera dicent: tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento; hae tibi erunt artes; pacisque imponere morem, parcere subiectis, et debellare superbos. Sic pater Anchises, atque haec mirantibus addit: Aspice, ut insignis spoliis Marcellus opimis ingreditur, victorque viros supereminet omnes!
Hic rem Romanam, magno turbante tumultu, sistet, eques sternet Poenos Gallumque rebellem, tertiaque arma patri suspendet capta Quirino. Atque hic Aeneas; una namque ire videbat egregium forma iuvenem et fulgentibus armis, sed frons laeta parum, et deiecto lumina voltu: Quis, pater, ille, virum qui sic comitatur euntem? Filius, anne aliquis magna de stirpe nepotum? Quis strepitus circa comitum! Quantum instar in ipso! Sed nox atra caput tristi circumvolat umbra. Tum pater Anchises, lacrimis ingressus obortis: O gnate, ingentem luctum ne quaere tuorum;
ostendent terris hunc tantum fata, neque ultra esse sinent. Nimium vobis Romana propago visa potens, Superi, propria haec si dona fuissent. Quantos ille virum magnam Mavortis ad urbem campus aget gemitus, vel quae, Tiberine, videbis funera, cum tumulum praeterlabere recentem! Nec puer Iliaca quisquam de gente Latinos in tantum spe tollet avos, nec Romula quondam ullo se tantum tellus iactabit alumno. Heu pietas, heu prisca fides, invictaque bello dextera! Non illi se quisquam impune tulisset obvius armato, seu cum pedes iret in hostem,
seu spumantis equi foderet calcaribus armos. Heu, miserande puer, si qua fata aspera rumpas, tu Marcellus eris. Manibus date lilia plenis, purpureos spargam flores, animamque nepotis his saltem adcumulem donis, et fungar inani munere—Sic tota passim regione vagantur aëris in campis latis, atque omnia lustrant. Quae postquam Anchises natum per singula duxit, incenditque animum famae venientis amore, exin bella viro memorat quae deinde gerenda, Laurentisque docet populos urbemque Latini, et quo quemque modo fugiatque feratque laborem.
Sunt geminae Somni portae, quarum altera fertur cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris; altera candenti perfecta nitens elephanto, sed falsa ad caelum mittunt insomnia Manes. His ubi tum natum Anchises unaque Sibyllam prosequitur dictis, portaque emittit eburna, ille viam secat ad naves sociosque revisit: tum se ad Caietae recto fert litore portum.
Book 7
Tu quoque litoribus nostris, Aeneia nutrix, aeternam moriens famam, Caieta, dedisti; et nunc servat honos sedem tuus ossaque nomen Hesperia in magna, siqua est ea gloria, signat. At pius exsequiis Aeneas rite solutis, aggere composito tumuli, postquam alta quierunt aequora, tendit iter velis portumque relinquit. Adspirant aurae in noctem nec candida cursus Luna negat, splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus. Proxima Circaeae raduntur litora terrae, dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia lucos adsiduo resonat cantu tectisque superbis
urit odoratam nocturna in lumina cedrum, arguto tenuis percurrens pectine telas. Hinc exaudiri gemitus iraeque leonum vincla recusantum et sera sub nocte rudentum, saetigerique sues atque in praesaepibus ursi saevire ac formae magnorum ululare luporum, quos hominum ex facie dea saeva potentibus herbis induerat Circe in voltus ac terga ferarum. Quae ne monstra pii paterentur talia Troes delati in portus neu litora dira subirent, Neptunus ventis implevit vela secundis atque fugam dedit et praeter vada fervida vexit.
Iamque rubescebat radiis mare et aethere ab alto Aurora in roseis fulgebat lutea bigis: cum venti posuere omnisque repente resedit flatus et in lento luctantur marmore tonsae. Atque hic Aeneas ingentem ex aequore lucum prospicit. Hunc inter fluvio Tiberinus amoeno verticibus rapidis et multa flavus arena in mare prorumpit. Variae circumque supraque adsuetae ripis volucres et fluminis alveo aethera mulcebant cantu lucoque volabant. flectere iter sociis terraeque advertere proras imperat et laetus fluvio succedit opaco.
Nunc age, qui reges, Erato, quae tempora rerum, quis Latio antiquo fuerit status, advena classem cum primum Ausoniis exercitus appulit oris, expediam et primae revocabo exordia pugnae. tu vatem, tu, diva, mone. Dicam horrida bella, dicam acies actosque animis in funera reges Tyrrhenamque manum totamque sub arma coactam Hesperiam. Maior rerum mihi nascitur ordo, maius opus moveo.Rex arva Latinus et urbes iam senior longa placidas in pace regebat. Hunc Fauno et nympha genitum Laurente Marica accipimus, Fauno Picus pater isque parentem
te, Saturne, refert, tu sanguinis ultimus auctor. filius huic fato divom prolesque virilis nulla fuit primaque oriens erepta iuventa est. Sola domum et tantas servabat filia sedes, iam matura viro, iam plenis nubilis annis. Multi illam magno e Latio totaque petebant Ausonia. Petit ante alios pulcherrimus omnis Turnus, avis atavisque potens, quem regia coniunx adiungi generum miro properabat amore; sed variis portenta deum terroribus obstant. Laurus erat tecti medio in penetralibus altis, sacra comam multosque metu servata per annos,
quam pater inventam, primas cum conderet arces, ipse ferebatur Phoebo sacrasse Latinus Laurentisque ab ea nomen posuisse colonis. Huius apes summum densae (mirabile dictu), stridore ingenti liquidum trans aethera vectae, obsedere apicem, ex pedibus per mutua nexis examen subitum ramo frondente pependit. Continuo vates: Externum cernimus, inquit, adventare virum et partis petere agmen easdem partibus ex isdem et summa dominarier arce. Praeterea, castis adolet dum altaria taedis et iuxta genitorem adstat Lavinia virgo,
visa (nefas) longis comprendere crinibus ignem, regalisque accensa comas, accensa coronam insignem gemmis, tum fumida lumine fulvo involvi ac totis Volcanum spargere tectis. Id vero horrendum ac visu mirabile ferri: namque fore inlustrem fama fatisque canebant ipsam, sed populo magnum portendere bellum. At rex sollicitus monstris oracula Fauni, fatidici genitoris, adit lucosque sub alta consulit Albunea, nemorum quae maxima sacro fonte sonat saevamque exhalat opaca mephitim. Hinc Italae gentes omnisque Oenotria tellus
in dubiis responsa petunt; huc dona sacerdos cum tulit et caesarum ovium sub nocte silenti pellibus incubuit stratis somnosque petivit, multa modis simulacra videt volitantia miris et varias audit voces fruiturque deorum conloquio atque imis Acheronta adfatur Avernis. Hic et tum pater ipse petens responsa Latinus centum lanigeras mactabat rite bidentis atque harum effultus tergo stratisque iacebat velleribus: subita ex alto vox reddita luco est: Ne pete conubiis natam sociare Latinis, O mea progenies, thalamis neu crede paratis:
externi venient generi, qui sanguine nostrum nomen in astra ferant quorumque a stirpe nepotes omnia sub pedibus, qua Sol utrumque recurrens aspicit Oceanum, vertique regique videbunt. Haec responsa patris Fauni monitusque silenti nocte datos non ipse suo premit ore Latinus, sed circum late volitans iam Fama per urbes Ausonias tulerat, cum Laomedontia pubes gramineo ripae religavit ab aggere classem. Aeneas primique duces et pulcher Iulus corpora sub ramis deponunt arboris altae instituuntque dapes et adorea liba per herbam
subiciunt epulis (sic Iuppiter ipse monebat) et Cereale solum pomis agrestibus augent. Consumptis hic forte aliis ut vertere morsus exiguam in Cererem penuria adegit edendi et violare manu malisque audacibus orbem fatalis crusti patulis nec parcere quadris: Heus ! etiam mensas consumimus, inquit Iulus, nec plura adludens. Ea vox audita laborum prima tulit finem, primamque loquentis ab ore eripuit pater ac stupefactus numine pressit. Continuo: Salve fatis mihi debita tellus vosque, ait, O fidi Troiae salvete penates:
hic domus, haec patria est. Genitor mihi talia namque (nunc repeto) Anchises fatorum arcana reliquit: cum te, nate, fames ignota ad litora vectum accisis coget dapibus consumere mensas, tum sperare domos defessus ibique memento prima locare manu molirique aggere tecta. Haec erat illa fames; haec nos suprema manebat, exiliis positura modum. Quare agite et primo laeti cum lumine solis quae loca, quive habeant homines, ubi moenia gentis, vestigemus et a portu diversa petamus. Nunc pateras libate Iovi precibusque vocate
Anchisen genitorem, et vina reponite mensis. Sic deinde effatus frondenti tempora ramo implicat et geniumque loci primamque deorum Tellurem nymphasque et adhuc ignota precatur flumina, tum Noctem Noctisque orientia signa Idaeumque Iovem Phrygiamque ex ordine matrem invocat et duplicis caeloque ereboque parentis. Hic pater omnipotens ter caelo clarus ab alto intonuit radiisque ardentem lucis et auro ipse manu quatiens ostendit ab aethere nubem. Diditur hic subito Troiana per agmina rumor advenisse diem, quo debita moenia condant.
Certatim instaurant epulas atque omine magno crateras laeti statuunt et vina coronant. Postera cum prima lustrabat lampade terras orta dies, urbem et finis et litora gentis diversi explorant: haec fontis stagna Numici, hunc Thybrim fluvium, hic fortis habitare Latinos. Tum satus Anchisa delectos ordine ab omni centum oratores augusta ad moenia regis ire iubet, ramis velatos Palladis omnis, donaque ferre viro pacemque exposcere Teucris. Haud mora, festinant iussi rapidisque feruntur passibus. Ipse humili designat moenia fossa
moliturque locum primasque in litore sedes castrorum in morem pinnis atque aggere cingit. Iamque iter emensi turris ac tecta Latinorum ardua cernebant iuvenes muroque subibant. Ante urbem pueri et primaevo flore iuventus exercentur equis domitantque in pulvere currus aut acris tendunt arcus aut lenta lacertis spicula contorquent cursuque ictuque lacessunt: cum praevectus equo longaevi regis ad auris nuntius ingentis ignota in veste reportat advenisse viros. Ille intra tecta vocari imperat et solio medius consedit avito.
Tectum augustum ingens. centum sublime columnis, urbe fuit summa, Laurentis regia Pici, horrendum silvis et religione parentum. Hic sceptra accipere et primos attollere fasces regibus omen erat, hoc illis curia templum, hae sacris sedes epulis, hic ariete caeso perpetuis soliti patres considere mensis. Quin etiam veterum effigies ex ordine avorum antiqua e cedro, Italusque paterque Sabinus vitisator, curvam servans sub imagine falcem, Saturnusque senex Ianique bifrontis imago vestibulo astabant, aliique ab origine reges
Martiaque ob patriam pugnando volnera passi. Multaque praeterea sacris in postibus arma, captivi pendent currus curvaeque secures et cristae capitum et portarum ingentia claustra spiculaque clipeique ereptaque rostra carinis. Ipse Quirinali lituo parvaque sedebat succinctus trabea laevaque ancile gerebat Picus, equum domitor; quem capta cupidine coniunx aurea percussum virga versumque venenis fecit avem Circe sparsitque coloribus alas. Tali intus templo divom patriaque Latinus sede sedens Teucros ad sese in tecta vocavit,
atque haec ingressis placido prior edidit ore: Dicite, Dardanidae (neque enim nescimus et urbem et genus, auditique advertitis aequore cursum), quid petitis ? Quae causa rates aut cuius egentis litus ad Ausonium tot per vada caerula vexit? Sive errore viae seu tempestatibus acti, qualia multa mari nautae patiuntur in alto, fluminis intrastis ripas portuque sedetis, ne fugite hospitium neve ignorate Latinos Saturni gentem, haud vinclo nec legibus aequam, sponte sua veterisque dei se more tenentem. Atque equidem memini (fama est obscurior annis)
Auruncos ita ferre senes, his ortus ut agris Dardanus Idaeas Phrygiae penetravit ad urbes Threiciamque Samum, quae nunc Samothracia fertur. Hinc illum, Corythi Tyrrhena ab sede profectum, aurea nunc solio stellantis regia caeli accipit et numerum divorum altaribus auget. Dixerat, et dicta Ilioneus sic voce secutus: Rex, genus egregium Fauni, nec fluctibus actos, atra subegit hiemps vestris succedere terris nec sidus regione viae litusve fefellit: consilio hanc omnes animisque volentibus urbem, adferimur, pulsi regnis, quae maxima quondam
extremo veniens Sol aspiciebat Olympo. Ab Iove principium generis, Iove Dardana pubes gaudet avo, rex ipse Iovis de gente suprema, Troius Aeneas, tua nos ad limina misit. Quanta per Idaeos saevis effusa Mycenis tempestas ierit campos, quibus actus uterque Europae atque Asiae fatis concurrerit orbis, audiit et siquem tellus extrema refuso summovet oceano et siquem extenta plagarum quattuor in medio dirimit plaga solis iniqui. Diluvio ex illo tot vasta per aequora vecti dis sedem exiguam patriis litusque rogamus
innocuum et cunctis undamque auramque patentem. Non erimus regno indecores, nec vestra feretur fama levis tantique abolescet gratia facti, nec Troiam Ausonios gremio excepisse pigebit. Fata per Aeneae iuro dextramque potentem sive fide seu quis bello est expertus et armis: multi nos populi, multae (ne temne, quod ultro praeferimus manibus vittas ac verba precantia) et petiere sibi et voluere adiungere gentes; sed nos fata deum vestras exquirere terras imperiis egere suis. Hinc Dardanus ortus; huc repetit iussisque ingentibus urguet Apollo
Tyrrhenum ad Thybrim et fontis vada sacra Numici. Dat tibi praeterea fortunae parva prioris munera, reliquias Troia ex ardente receptas. Hoc pater Anchises auro libabat ad aras; hoc Priami gestamen erat, cum iura vocatis more daret populis, sceptrumque sacerque tiaras Iliadumque labor vestes. Talibus Ilionei dictis defixa Latinus obtutu tenet ora soloque immobilis haeret intentos volvens oculos. Nec purpura regem picta movet nec sceptra movent Priameia tantum, quantum in conubio natae thalamoque moratur,
et veteris Fauni voluit sub pectore sortem, hunc illum fatis externa ab sede profectum portendi generum paribusque in regna vocari auspiciis, huic progeniem virtute futuram egregiam et totum quae viribus occupet orbem. tandem laetus ait: Di nostra incepta secundent auguriumque suum; dabitur, Troiane, quod optas, munera nec sperno. Non vobis rege Latino divitis uber agri Troiaeve opulentia deerit. Ipse modo Aeneas, nostri si tanta cupido est, si iungi hospitio properat sociusque vocari, adveniat voltus neve exhorrescat amicos:
illi pacis erit dextram tetigisse tyranni. vos contra regi mea nunc mandata referte. Est mihi nata, viro gentis quam iungere nostrae non patrio ex adyto sortes, non plurima caelo monstra sinunt: generos externis adfore ab oris, hoc Latio restare canunt, qui sanguine nostrum nomen in astra ferant. Hunc illum poscere fata et reor et, siquid veri mens augurat, opto. haec effatus equos numero pater eligit omni (stabant ter centum nitidi in praesaepibus altis): omnibus extemplo Teucris iubet ordine duci instratos ostro alipedes pictisque tapetis;
aurea pectoribus demissa monilia pendent, tecti auro fulvum mandunt sub dentibus aurum; absenti Aeneae currum geminosque iugalis semine ab aetherio, spirantis naribus ignem, illorum de gente, patri quos daedala Circe supposita de matre nothos furata creavit. Talibus Aeneadae donis dictisque Latini sublimes in equis redeunt pacemque reportant. Ecce autem Inachiis sese referebat ab Argis saeva Iovis coniunx aurasque invecta tenebat, et laetum Aenean classemque ex aethere longe Dardaniam Siculo prospexit ab usque Pachyno.
moliri iam tecta videt, iam fidere terrae, deseruisse rates: stetit acri fixa dolore. Tum quassans caput haec effundit pectore dicta: Heu stirpem invisam et fatis contraria nostris fata Phrygum ! Num Sigeis occumbere campis, num capti potuere capi, num incensa cremavit Troia viros ? Medias acies mediosque per ignis invenere viam. At, credo, mea numina tandem fessa iacent odiis aut exsaturata quievi. Quin etiam patria excussos infesta per undas ausa sequi et profugis toto me opponere ponto ! Absumptae in Teucros vires caelique marisque.
Quid Syrtes aut Scylla mihi, quid vasta Charybdis profuit? Optato conduntur Thybridis alveo, securi pelagi atque mei. Mars perdere gentem immanem Lapithum valuit, concessit in iras ipse deum antiquam genitor Calydona Dianae, quod scelus aut Lapithis tantum aut Calydona merentem? Ast ego magna Iovis coniunx, nil linquere inausum quae potui infelix, quae memet in omnia verti, vincor ab Aenea. Quod si mea numina non sunt magna satis, dubitem haud equidem implorare quod usquam est: flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo. Non dabitur regnis, esto, prohibere Latinis,
atque immota manet fatis Lavinia coniunx: at trahere atque moras tantis licet addere rebus, at licet amborum populos exscindere regum. Hac gener atque socer coeant mercede suorum: sanguine Troiano et Rutulo dotabere, virgo, et Bellona manet te pronuba. Nec face tantum Cisseis praegnans ignis enixa iugalis quin idem Veneri partus suus et Paris alter funestaeque iterum recidiva in Pergama taedae. Haec ubi dicta dedit, terras Horrenda petivit: luctificam Allecto dirarum ab sede dearum infernisque ciet tenebris, cui tristia bella
iraeque insidiaeque et crimina noxia cordi. Odit et ipse pater Pluton, odere sorores Tartareae monstrum: tot sese vertit in ora, tam saevae facies, tot pullulat atra colubris. Quam Iuno his acuit verbis ac talia fatur: Hunc mihi da proprium, virgo sata Nocte, laborem, hanc operam, ne noster honos infractave cedat fama loco, neu conubiis ambire Latinum Aeneadae possint Italosve obsidere finis. Tu potes unanimos armare in proelia fratres atque odiis versare domos, tu verbera tectis funereasque inferre faces, tibi nomina mille,
mille nocendi artes. Fecundum concute pectus, disice compositam pacem, sere crimina belli: arma velit poscatque simul rapiatque inventus. Exin Gorgoneis Allecto infecta venenis principio Latium et Laurentis tecta tyranni celsa petit tacitumque obsedit limen Amatae, quam super adventu Teucrum Turnique hymenaeis femineae ardentem curaeque iraeque coquebant. Huic dea caeruleis unum de crinibus anguem conicit inque sinum praecordia ad intuma subdit, quo furibunda domum monstro permisceat omnem. Ille inter vestes et levia pectora lapsus
volvitur attactu nullo fallitque furentem, vipeream inspirans animam: fit tortile collo aurum ingens coluber, fit longae taenia vittae innectitque comas, et membris lubricus errat. Ac dum prima lues udo sublapsa veneno pertemptat sensus atque ossibus implicat ignem necdum animus toto percepit pectore flammam, mollius et solito matrum de more locuta est, multa super nata lacrimans Phrygiisque hymenaeis: Exsulibusne datur ducenda Lavinia Teucris, O genitor, nec te miseret gnataeque tuique ? Nec matris miseret, quam primo aquilone relinquet
perfidus alta petens abducta virgine praedo? An non sic Phrygius penetrat Lacedaemona pastor Ledaeamque Helenam Troianas vexit ad urbes ? Quid tua sancta fides, quid cura antiqua tuorum et consanguineo totiens data dextera Turno? Si gener externa petitur de gente Latinis idque sedet Faunique premunt te iussa parentis, omnem equidem sceptris terram quae libera nostris dissidet, externam reor et sic dicere divos. Et Turno, si prima domus repetatur origo, Inachus Acrisiusque patres mediaeque Mycenae. His ubi nequiquam dictis experta Latinum
contra stare videt penitusque in viscera lapsum serpentis furiale malum totamque pererrat, tum vero infelix, ingentibus excita monstris, immensam sine more furit lymphata per urbem. Ceu quondam torto volitans sub verbere turbo, quem pueri magno in gyro vacua atria circum intenti ludo exercent; ille actus habena curvatis fertur spatiis; stupet inscia supra inpubesque manus, mirata volubile buxum; dant animos plagae: non cursu segnior illo per medias urbes agitur populosque feroces. Quin etiam in silvas, simulato numine Bacchi,
maius adorta nefas maioremque orsa furorem evolat et natam frondosis montibus abdit, quo thalamum eripiat Teucris taedasque moretur, Euhoe Bacche, fremens, solum te virgine dignum vociferans, etenim mollis tibi sumere thyrsos, te lustrare choro, sacrum tibi pascere crinem. Fama volat, furiisque accensas pectore matres idem omnis simul ardor agit nova quaerere tecta: deseruere domos, ventis dant colla comasque, ast aliae tremulis ululatibus aethera complent, pampineasque gerunt incinctae pellibus hastas; ipsa inter medias flagrantem fervida pinum
sustinet ac natae Turnique canit hymenaeos, sanguineam torquens aciem, torvumque repente clamat: Io matres, audite, ubi quaeque, Latinae: Siqua piis animis manet infelicis Amatae gratia, si iuris materni cura remordet, solvite crinalis vittas, capite orgia mecum. Talem inter silvas, inter deserta ferarum, reginam Allecto stimulis agit undique Bacchi. Postquam visa satis primos acuisse furores consiliumque omnemque domum vertisse Latini, protinus hinc fuscis tristis dea tollitur alis audacis Rutuli ad muros, quam dicitur urbem
Acrisioneis Danae fundasse colonis, praecipiti delata noto. Locus Ardea quondam dictus avis, et nunc magnum manet Ardea nomen, sed fortuna fuit; tectis hic Turnus in altis iam mediam nigra carpebat nocte quietem. Allecto torvam faciem et furialia membra exuit, in vultus sese transformat anilis; et frontem obscenam rugis arat, induit albos cum vitta crinis, tum ramum innectit olivae; fit Calybe Iunonis anus templique sacerdos et iuveni ante oculos his se cum vocibus offert: Turne, tot incassum fusos patiere labores
et tua Dardaniis transcribi sceptra colonis? Rex tibi coniugium et quaesitas sanguine dotes abnegat, externusque in regnum quaeritur heres. I nunc, ingratis offer te, inrise, periclis; Tyrrhenas, i, sterne acies; tege pace Latinos. Haec adeo tibi me, placida cum nocte iaceres, ipsa palam fari omnipotens Saturnia iussit. Quare age et armari pubem portisque moveri laetus in arma para, et Phrygios qui flumine pulchro consedere duces pictasque exure carinas. Caelestum vis magna iubet. Rex ipse Latinus, ni dare coniugium et dicto parere fatetur,
sentiat et tandem Turnum experiatur in armis. Hic iuvenis vatem inridens sic orsa vicissim ore refert: Classis invectas Thybridis undam non, ut rere, meas effugit nuntius auris. Ne tantos mihi finge metus; nec regia Iuno inmemor est nostri. Sed te victa situ verique effeta senectus, o mater, curis nequiquam exercet et arma regum inter falsa vatem formidine ludit. Cura tibi divom effigies et templa tueri: bella viri pacemque gerent, quis bella gerenda. Talibus Allecto dictis exarsit in iras,
at iuveni oranti subitus tremor occupat artus, deriguere oculi: tot Erinys sibilat hydris tantaque se facies aperit; tum flammea torquens lumina cunctantem et quaerentem dicere plura reppulit et geminos erexit crinibus anguis verberaque insonuit rabidoque haec addidit ore: En ego victa situ, quam veri effeta senectus arma inter regum falsa formidine ludit. Respice ad haec: adsum dirarum ab sede sororum, bella manu letumque gero. Sic effata facem iuveni coniecit et atro lumine fumantis fixit sub pectore taedas.
Olli somnum ingens rumpit pavor, ossaque et artus perfundit toto proruptus corpore sudor; arma amens fremit, arma toro tectisque requirit; saevit amor ferri et scelerata insania belli, ira super: magno veluti cum flamma sonore virgea suggeritur costis undantis aëni exsultantque aestu latices, furit intus aquaï fumidus atque alte spumis exuberat amnis, nec iam se capit unda, volat vapor ater ad auras. Ergo iter ad regem polluta pace Latinum indicit primis iuvenum et iubet arma parari, tutari Italiam, detrudere finibus hostem:
se satis ambobus Teucrisque venire Latinisque. Haec ubi dicta dedit divosque in vota vocavit, certatim sese Rutuli exhortantur in arma: hunc decus egregium formae movet atque iuventae, hunc atavi reges, hunc claris dextera factis. Dum Turnus Rutulos animis audacibus implet, Allecto in Teucros Stygiis se concitat alis, arte nova speculata locum, quo litore pulcher insidiis cursuque feras agitabat Iulus. Hic subitam canibus rabiem Cocytia virgo obicit et noto naris contingit odore, ut cervum ardentes agerent; quae prima laborum
causa fuit belloque animos accendit agrestis. Cervus erat forma praestanti et cornibus ingens, Tyrrhidae pueri quem matris ab ubere raptum nutribant Tyrrhusque pater, cui regia parent armenta et late custodia credita campi. Adsuetum imperiis soror omni Silvia cura mollibus intexens ornabat cornua sertis pectebatque ferum puroque in fonte lavabat. Ille, manum patiens mensaeque adsuetus erili, errabat silvis rursusque ad limina nota ipse domum sera quamvis se nocte ferebat. Hunc procul errantem rabidae venantis Iuli
commovere canes, fluvio cum forte secundo deflueret ripaque aestus viridante levaret. Ipse etiam, eximiae laudis succensus amore, Ascanius curvo direxit spicula cornu; nec dextrae erranti deus afuit, actaque multo perque uterum sonitu perque ilia venit harundo. Saucius at quadrupes nota intra tecta refugit successitque gemens stabulis questuque cruentus atque imploranti similis tectum omne replebat. Silvia prima soror, palmis percussa lacertos, auxilium vocat et duros conclamat agrestis. Olli, pestis enim tacitis latet aspera silvis,
inprovisi adsunt, hic torre armatus obusto, stipitis hic gravidi nodis: quod cuique repertum rimanti, telum ira facit. Vocat agmina Tyrrhus, quadrifidam quercum cuneis ut forte coactis scindebat, rapta spirans immane securi. At saeva e speculis tempus dea nacta nocendi ardua tecta petit stabuli et de culmine summo pastorale canit signum cornuque recurvo Tartaream intendit vocem, qua protinus omne contremuit nemus et silvae insonuere profundae; audiit et Triviae longe lacus, audiit amnis sulfurea Nar albus aqua fontesque Velini,
et trepidae matres pressere ad pectora natos. Tum vero ad vocem celeres, qua bucina signum dira dedit, raptis concurrunt undique telis indomiti agricolae; nec non et Troïa pubes Ascanio auxilium castris effundit apertis. Direxere acies. Non iam certamine agresti, stipitibus duris agitur sudibusve praeustis, sed ferro ancipiti decernunt atraque late horrescit strictis seges ensibus aeraque fulgent sole lacessita et lucem sub nubila iactant: fluctus uti primo coepit cum albescere vento, paulatim sese tollit mare et altius undas
erigit, inde imo consurgit ad aethera fundo. Hic iuvenis primam ante aciem stridente sagitta, natorum Tyrrhi fuerat qui maximus, Almo, sternitur; haesit enim sub gutture volnus et udae vocis iter tenuemque inclusit sanguine vitam. Corpora multa virum circa seniorque Galaesus, dum paci medium se offert, iustissimus unus qui fuit Ausoniisque olim ditissimus arvis: quinque greges illi balantum, quina redibant armenta, et terram centum vertebat aratris. Atque ea per campos aequo dum Marte geruntur, promissi dea facta potens, ubi sanguine bellum
imbuit et primae commisit funera pugnae, deserit Hesperiam et caeli convexa per auras Iunonem victrix adfatur voce superba: En, perfecta tibi bello discordia tristi: dic in amicitiam coeant et foedera iungant. Quando quidem Ausonio respersi sanguine Teucros, hoc etiam his addam, tua si mihi certa voluntas: finitimas in bella feram rumoribus urbes accendamque animos insani Martis amore, undique ut auxilio veniunt; spargam arma per agros. Tum contra Iuno; Terrorum et fraudis abunde est; stant belli causae, pugnatur comminus armis,
quae fors prima dedit sanguis novus imbuit arma. Talia coniugia et talis celebrent hymenaeos egregium Veneris genus et rex ipse Latinus. Te super aetherias errare licentius auras haud pater ille velit, summi regnator Olympi: cede locis; ego, siqua super fortuna laborum est, ipsa regam. Talis dederat Saturnia voces. Illa autem attollit stridentis anguibus alas Cocytique petit sedem, supera ardua linquens. Est locus Italiae medio sub montibus altis, nobilis et fama multis memoratus in oris, Amsancti valles: densis hunc frondibus atrum
urguet utrimque latus nemoris, medioque fragosus dat sonitum saxis et torto vertice torrens. Hic specus horrendum et saevi spiracula Ditis monstrantur, ruptoque ingens Acheronte vorago pestiferas aperit fauces, quis condita Erinys, invisum numen, terras caelumque levabat. Nec minus interea extremam Saturnia bello imponit regina manum. Ruit omnis in urbem pastorum ex acie numerus caesosque reportant Almonem puerum foedatique ora Galaesi implorantque deos obtestanturque Latinum. Turnus adest medioque in crimine caedis et igni
terrorem ingeminat: Teucros in regna vocari, stirpem admisceri Phrygiam, se limine pelli. Tum quorum attonitae Baccho nemora avia matres insultant thiasis (neque enim leve nomen Amatae), undique collecti coeunt Martemque fatigant. Ilicet infandum cuncti contra omina bellum, contra fata deum perverso numine poscunt, certatim regis circumstant tecta Latini. Ille velut pelagi rupes immota resistit, ut pelagi rupes magno veniente fragore, quae sese multis circum latrantibus undis mole tenet; scopuli nequiquam et spumea circum
saxa fremunt laterique inlisa refunditur alga. Verum ubi nulla datur caecum exsuperare potestas consilium et saevae nutu Iunonis eunt res, multa deos aurasque pater testatus inanis: Frangimur heu fatis, inquit, ferimurque procella! Ipsi has sacrilego pendetis sanguine poenas, O miseri. Te, Turne, nefas, te triste manebit supplicium, votisque deos venerabere seris. Nam mihi parta quies, omnisque in limine portus; funere felici spolior. Nec plura locutus saepsit se tectis rerumque reliquit habenas. Mos erat Hesperio in Latio, quem protinus urbes
Albanae coluere sacrum nunc maxima rerum Roma colit, cum prima movent in proelia Martem, sive Getis inferre manu lacrimabile bellum Hyrcanisve Arabisve parant seu tendere ad Indos Auroramque sequi Parthosque reposcere signa. Sunt geminae belli portae (sic nomine dicunt) religione sacrae et saevi formidine Martis; centum aerei claudunt vectes aeternaque ferri robora, nec custos absistit limine Ianus: has, ubi certa sedet patribus sententia pugnae, ipse Quirinali trabea cinctuque Gabino insignis reserat stridentia limina consul,
ipse vocat pugnas; sequitur tum cetera pubes, aereaque adsensu conspirant cornua rauco. Hoc et tum Aeneadis indicere bella Latinus more iubebatur tristisque recludere portas. Abstinuit tactu pater aversusque refugit foeda ministeria et caecis se condidit umbris. Tum regina deum caelo delapsa morantis impulit ipsa manu portas, et cardine verso belli ferratos rumpit Saturnia postes. Ardet inexcita Ausonia atque immobilis ante; Pars pedes ire parat campis, pars arduus altis pulverulentus equis furit; omnes arma requirunt.
Pars levis clipeos et spicula lucida tergent arvina pingui subiguntque in cote secures; signaque ferre iuvat sonitusque audire tubarum. Quinque adeo magnae positis incudibus urbes tela novant, Atina potens Tiburque superbum, Ardea Crustumerique et turrigerae Antemnae. Tegmina tuta cavant capitum flectuntque salignas umbonum cratis; alii thoracas aenos aut levis ocreas lento ducunt argento; vomeris huc et falcis honos, huc omnis aratri cessit amor; recoquunt patrios fornacibus enses. Classica iamque sonant; it bello tessera signum.
Hic galeam tectis trepidus rapit, ille frementis ad iuga cogit equos clipeumque auroque trilicem loricam induitur fidoque accingitur ense. Pandite nunc Helicona, deae, cantusque movete, qui bello exciti reges, quae quemque secutae complerint campos acies, quibus Itala iam tum floruerit terra alma viris, quibus arserit armis. Et meministis enim, divae, et memorare potestis: ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura. Primus init bellum Tyrrhenis asper ab oris contemptor divom Mezentius agminaque armat. Filius huic iuxta Lausus, quo pulchrior alter
non fuit excepto Laurentis corpore Turni, Lausus, equum domitor debellatorque ferarum, ducit Agyllina nequiquam ex urbe secutos mille viros, dignus, patriis qui laetior esset imperiis et cui pater haud Mezentius esset. Post hos insignem palma per gramina currum victoresque ostentat equos satus Hercule pulchro pulcher Aventinus, clipeoque insigne paternum centum angues cinctamque gerit serpentibus hydram; collis Aventini silva quem Rhea sacerdos furtivum partu sub luminis edidit oras, mixta deo mulier, postquam Laurentia victor
Geryone extincto Tirynthius attigit arva Tyrrhenoque boves in flumine lavit Hiberas. Pila manu saevosque gerunt in bella dolones et tereti pugnant mucrone veruque Sabello. Ipse pedes, tegumen torquens immane leonis, terribili impexum saeta cum dentibus albis indutus capiti, sic regia tecta subibat, horridus, Herculeoque umeros innexus amictu. Tum gemini fratres Tiburtia moenia linquunt, fratris Tiburti dictam cognomine gentem, Catillusque acerque Coras, Argiva iuventus, et primam ante aciem densa inter tela feruntur:
ceu duo nubigenae cum vertice montis ab alto descendunt centauri, Homolen Othrymque nivalem linquentes cursu rapido; dat euntibus ingens silva locum et magno cedunt virgulta fragore. Nec Praenestinae fundator defuit urbis, Volcano genitum pecora inter agrestia regem inventumque focis omnis quem credidit aetas Caeculus. Hunc late legio comitatur agrestis: quique altum Praeneste viri quique arva Gabinae Iunonis gelidumque Anienem et roscida rivis Hernica saxa colunt, quos dives Anagnia pascit, quos, Amasene pater. Non illis omnibus arma,
nec clipei currusve sonant: pars maxima glandes liventis plumbi spargit, pars spicula gestat bina manu, fulvosque lupi de pelle galeros tegmen habent capiti, vestigia nuda sinistri instituere pedis, crudus tegit altera pero. At Messapus, equum domitor, Neptunia proles, quem neque fas igni cuiquam nec sternere ferro, iam pridem resides populos desuetaque bello agmina in arma vocat subito ferrumque retractat. Hi Fescenninas acies Aequosque Faliscos. Hi Soractis habent arces Flaviniaque arva et Cimini cum monte lacum lucosque Capenos.
Ibant aequati numero regemque canebant, ceu quondam nivei liquida inter nubila cycni, cum sese e pastu referunt et longa canoros dant per colla modos, sonat amnis et Asia longe pulsa palus. Nec quisquam aeratas acies ex agmine tanto misceri putet, aeriam sed gurgite ab alto urgueri volucrum raucarum ad litora nubem. Ecce Sabinorum prisco de sanguine magnum agmen agens Clausus magnique ipse agminis instar, Claudia nunc a quo diffunditur et tribus et gens per Latium, postquam in partem data Roma Sabinis.
Una ingens Amiterna cohors priscique Quirites, Ereti manus omnis oliviferaeque Mutuscae; qui Nomentum urbem, qui Rosea rura Velini, qui Tetricae horrentis rupes montemque Severum Casperiamque colunt Forulosque et flumen Himellae, qui Tiberim Fabarimque bibunt, quos frigida misit Nursia, et Hortinae classes populique Latini, quosque secans infaustum interluit Allia nomen: quam multi Libyco volvuntur marmore fluctus saevus ubi Orion hibernis conditur undis; vel cum sole novo densae torrentur aristae aut Hermi campo aut Lyciae flaventibus arvis.
Scuta sonant pulsuque pedum conterrita tellus. Hinc Agamemnonius, Troiani nominis hostis, curru iungit Halaesus equos Turnoque ferocis mille rapit populos, vertunt felicia Baccho Massica qui rastris et quos de collibus altis Aurunci misere patres, Sidicinaque iuxta aequora quique Cales linquunt, amnisque vadosi accola Volturni, pariterque Saticulus asper Oscorumque manus. Teretes sunt aclydes illis tela, sed haec lento mos est aptare flagello; laevas caetra tegit, falcati comminus enses. Nec tu carminibus nostris indictus abibis,
Oebale, quem generasse Telon Sebethide nympha fertur, Teleboum Capreas cum regna teneret, iam senior; patriis sed non et filius arvis contentus late iam tum dicione premebat Sarrastis populos et quae rigat aequora Sarnus quique Rufras Batulumque tenent atque arva Celemnae et quos maliferae despectant moenia Abellae, Teutonico ritu soliti torquere cateias, tegmina quis capitum raptus de subere cortex, aerataeque micant peltae, micat aereus ensis. Et te montosae misere in proelia Nersae, Ufens, insignem fama et felicibus armis;
horrida praecipue cui gens adsuetaque multo venatu nemorum, duris Aequicula glaebis. Armati terram exercent, semperque recentis convectare iuvat praedas et vivere rapto. Quin et Marruvia venit de gente sacerdos, fronde super galeam et felici comptus oliva. Archippi regis missu, fortissimus Umbro, vipereo generi et graviter spirantibus hydris spargere qui somnos cantuque manuque solebat mulcebatque iras et morsus arte levabat. Sed non Dardaniae medicari cuspidis ictum evaluit, neque eum iuvere in volnera cantus
somniferi et Marsis quaesitae montibus herbae. Te nemus Angitiae, vitrea te Fucinus unda, te liquidi flevere lacus. Ibat et Hippolyti proles pulcherrima bello, Virbius, insignem quem mater Aricia misit, eductum Egeriae lucis umentia circum litora, pinguis ubi et placabilis ara Dianae. Namque ferunt fama Hippolytum, postquam arte novercae occiderit patriasque explerit sanguine poenas turbatis distractus equis, ad sidera rursus aetheria et superas caeli venisse sub auras, Paeoniis revocatum herbis et amore Dianae.
Tum pater omnipotens, aliquem indignatus ab umbris mortalem infernis ad lumina surgere vitae, ipse repertorem medicinae talis et artis fulmine Phoebigenam Stygias detrusit ad undas. At Trivia Hippolytum secretis alma recondit sedibus et nymphae Egeriae nemorique relegat, solus ubi in silvis Italis ignobilis aevom exigeret versoque ubi nomine Virbius esset. Unde etiam templo Triviae lucisque sacratis cornipedes arcentur equi, quod litore currum et iuvenem monstris pavidi effudere marinis. Filius ardentis haud setius aequore campi
exercebat equos curruque in bella ruebat. Ipse inter primos praestanti corpore Turnus vertitur arma tenens et toto vertice supra est. Cui triplici crinita iuba galea alta Chimaeram sustinet, Aetnaeos efflantem faucibus ignis: tam magis illa fremens et tristibus effera flammis, quam magis effuso crudescunt sanguine pugnae. At levem clipeum sublatis cornibus Io auro insignibat, iam saetis obsita, iam bos (argumentum ingens), et custos virginis Argus caelataque amnem fundens pater Inachus urna. Insequitur nimbus peditum clipeataque totis
agmina densentur campis, Argivaque pubes Auruncaeque manus, Rutuli veteresque Sicani et Sacranae acies et picti scuta Labici; qui saltus, Tiberine, tuos sacrumque Numici litus arant Rutulosque exercent vomere colles Circaeumque iugum, quis Iuppiter Anxurus arvis praesidet et viridi gaudens Feronia luco; qua Saturae iacet atra palus gelidusque per imas quaerit iter vallis atque in mare conditur Ufens. Hos super advenit Volsca de gente Camilla agmen agens equitum et florentis aere catervas, bellatrix, non illa colo calathisve Minervae
femineas adsueta manus, sed proelia virgo dura pati cursuque pedum praevertere ventos. Illa vel intactae segetis per summa volaret gramina nec teneras cursu laesisset aristas, vel mare per medium fluctu suspensa tumenti ferret iter celeris nec tingueret aequore plantas. Illam omnis tectis agrisque effusa iuventus turbaque miratur matrum et prospectat euntem, attonitis inhians animis, ut regius ostro velet honos levis umeros, ut fibula crinem auro internectat, Lyciam ut gerat ipsa pharetram et pastoralem praefixa cuspide myrtum.
Book 8
Ut belli signum Laurenti Turnus ab arce extulit et rauco strepuerunt cornua cantu, utque acris concussit equos utque impulit arma, extemplo turbati animi, simul omne tumultu coniurat trepido Latium saevitque iuventus effera. Ductores primi Messapus et Ufens contemptorque deum Mezentius undique cogunt auxilia et latos vastant cultoribus agros. mittitur et magni Venulus Diomedis ad urbem, qui petat auxilium et Latio consistere Teucros, advectum Aenean classi victosque penatis inferre et fatis regem se dicere posci
edoceat multasque viro se adiungere gentis Dardanio et late Latio increbrescere nomen. Quid struat his coeptis, quem, si Fortuna sequatur, eventum pugnae cupiat, manifestius ipsi quam Turno regi aut regi apparere Latino. Talia per Latium. Quae Laomedontius heros cuncta videns magno curarum fluctuat aestu, atque animum nunc huc celerem, nunc dividit illuc. In partisque rapit varias perque omnia versat: sicut aquae tremulum labris ubi lumen aenis sole repercussum aut radiantis imagine lunae omnia pervolitat late loca iamque sub auras
erigitur summique ferit lacuaria tecti. Nox erat, et terras animalia fessa per omnis alituum pecudumque genus sopor altus habebat: cum pater in ripa gelidique sub aetheris axe Aeneas, tristi turbatus pectora bello, procubuit seramque dedit per membra quietem. Huic deus ipse loci fluvio Tiberinus amoeno populeas inter senior se attollere frondes visus; eum tenuis glauco velabat amictu carbasus, et crinis umbrosa tegebat harundo, tum sic adfari et curas his demere dictis: O sate gente deum, Troianam ex hostibus urbem
qui revehis nobis aeternaque Pergama servas, exspectate solo Laurenti arvisque Latinis, hic tibi certa domus, certi, ne absiste, penates; neu belli terrere minis: tumor omnis et irae concessere deum. Nunc qua ratione quod instat expedias victor, paucis (adverte) docebo. Arcades his oris, genus a Pallante profectum, qui regem Euandrum comites, qui signa secuti, delegere locum et posuere in montibus urbem Pallantis proavi de nomine Pallanteum. Hi bellum adsidue ducunt cum gente Latina;
hos castris adhibe socios et foedera iunge. Ipse ego te ripis et recto flumine ducam, adversum remis superes subvectus ut amnem. Surge age, nate dea, primisque cadentibus astris Iunoni fer rite preces iramque minasque supplicibus supera votis. Mihi victor honorem persolves. Ego sum pleno quem flumine cernis stringentem ripas et pinguia culta secantem, caeruleus Thybris, caelo gratissimus amnis. Hic mihi magna domus, celsis caput urbibus, exit. Dixit, deinde lacu fluvius se condidit alto, ima petens; nox Aenean somnusque reliquit.
Surgit et aetherii spectans orientia solis lumina rite cavis undam de flumine palmis sustinet ac talis effundit ad aethera voces: Nymphae, Laurentes nymphae, genus amnibus unde est, tuque, o Thybri tuo genitor cum flumine sancto, accipite Aenean et tandem arcete periclis. Quo te cumque lacus miserantem incommoda nostra fonte tenet, quocumque solo pulcherrimus exis, semper honore meo, semper celebrabere donis corniger hesperidum fluvius regnator aquarum. Adsis o tantum et propius tua numina firmes. sic memorat geminasque legit de classe biremis
remigioque aptat, socios simul instruit armis. Ecce autem subitum atque oculis mirabile monstrum; candida per silvam cum fetu concolor albo procubuit viridique in litore conspicitur sus. Quam pius Aeneas tibi enim, tibi, maxuma Iuno, mactat sacra ferens et cum grege sistit ad aram. Thybris ea fluvium, quam longa est, nocte tumentem leniit, et tacita refluens ita substitit unda, mitis ut in morem stagni placidaeque paludis sterneret aequor aquis, remo ut luctamen abesset. Ergo iter inceptum celerant rumore secundo; labitur uncta vadis abies; mirantur et undae,
miratur nemus insuetum fulgentia longe scuta virum fluvio pictasque innare carinas. Olli remigio noctemque diemque fatigant et longos superant flexus variisque teguntur arboribus viridisque secant placido aequore silvas. Sol medium caeli conscenderat igneus orbem, cum muros arcemque procul ac rara domorum tecta vident, quae nunc Romana potentia caelo aequavit, tum res inopes Euandrus habebat: ocius advertunt proras urbique propinquant. Forte die sollemnem illo rex Arcas honorem Amphitryoniadae magno divisque ferebat
ante urbem in luco. Pallas huic filius una, una omnes iuvenum primi pauperque senatus tura dabant, tepidusque cruor fumabat ad aras. Ut celsas videre rates atque inter opacum adlabi nemus et tacitis incumbere remis, terrentur visu subito cunctique relictis consurgunt mensis. Audax quos rumpere Pallas sacra vetat raptoque volat telo obvius ipse et procul e tumulo: Iuvenes, quae causa subegit ignotas temptare vias, quo tenditis? inquit. Qui genus? Unde domo? Pacemne huc fertis an arma? Tum pater Aeneas puppi sic fatur ab alta
paciferaeque manu ramum praetendit olivae: Troiugenas ac tela vides inimica Latinis, quos illi bello profugos egere superbo. Euandrum petimus. Ferte haec et dicite lectos Dardaniae venisse duces socia arma rogantis. Obstipuit tanto percussus nomine Pallas: Egredere o quicumque es ait coramque parentem adloquere ac nostris succede penatibus hospes. excepitque manu dextramque amplexus inhaesit. Progressi subeunt luco fluviumque relinquunt. Tum regem Aeneas dictis adfatur amicis: Optume Graiugenum, cui me Fortuna precari
et vitta comptos voluit praetendere ramos, non equidem extimui, Danaum quod ductor et Arcas quodque a stirpe fores geminis coniunctus Atridis; sed mea me virtus et sancta oracula divom cognatique patres, tua terris didita fama, coniunxere tibi et fatis egere volentem. Dardanus, Iliacae primus pater urbis et auctor, Electra, ut Grai perhibent, Atlantide cretus, advehitur Teucros; Electram maxumus Atlas edidit, aetherios umero qui sustinet orbes vobis Mercurius pater est, quem candida Maia Cyllenae gelido conceptum vertice fudit;
at Maiam, auditis si quicquam credimus, Atlas, idem Atlas generat, caeli qui sidera tollit. Sic genus amborum scindit se sanguine ab uno. His fretus non legatos neque prima per artem temptamenta tui pepigi: me, me ipse meumque obieci caput et supplex ad limina veni. Gens eadem, quae te, crudeli Daunia bello insequitur; nos si pellant, nihil afore credunt, quin omnem Hesperiam penitus sua sub iuga mittant et mare quod supra teneant quodque adluit infra. Accipe daque fidem: sunt nobis fortia bello pectora, sunt animi et rebus spectata iuventus.
Dixerat Aeneas. Ille os oculosque loquentis iamdudum et totum lustrabat lumine corpus. Tum sic pauca refert: Ut te, fortissime Teucrum, accipio agnoscoque libens! Ut verba parentis et vocem Anchisae magni voltumque recordor! Nam memini Hesionae visentem regna sororis Laomedontiaden Priamum, Salamina petentem, protinus Arcadiae gelidos invisere finis. Tum mihi prima genas vestibat flore iuventas, mirabarque duces Teucros, mirabar et ipsum Laomedontiaden, sed cunctis altior ibat Anchises: mihi mens iuvenali ardebat amore
compellare virum et dextrae coniungere dextram. Accessi et cupidus Phenei sub moenia duxi. Ille mihi insignem pharetram Lyciasque sagittas discedens chlamydemque auro dedit intertextam frenaque bina meus quae nunc habet aurea Pallas. Ergo et quam petitis iuncta est mihi foedere dextra, et lux cum primum terris se crastina reddet, auxilio laetos dimittam opibusque iuvabo. Interea sacra haec, quando huc venistis amici, annua, quae differre nefas, celebrate faventes nobiscum et iam nunc sociorum adsuescite mensis. Haec ubi dicta, dapes iubet et sublata reponi
pocula gramineoque viros locat ipse sedili praecipuumque toro et villosi pelle leonis accipit Aenean solioque invitat acerno. Tum lecti iuvenes certatim araeque sacerdos viscera tosta ferunt taurorum onerantque canistris dona laboratae Cereris Bacchumque ministrant. Vescitur Aeneas simul et Troiana iuventus perpetui tergo bovis et lustralibus extis. Postquam exempta fames et amor compressus edendi, rex Euandrus ait: Non haec sollemnia nobis, has ex more dapes, hanc tanti numinis aram vana superstitio veterumque ignara deorum
inposuit: saevis, hospes Troiane, periclis servati facimus meritosque novamus honores. Iam primum saxis suspensam hanc aspice rupem, disiectae procul ut moles desertaque montis stat domus et scopuli ingentem traxere ruinam. Hic spelunca fuit, vasto summota recessu, semihominis Caci facies quam dira tenebat solis inaccessam radiis; semperque recenti caede tepebat humus, foribusque adfixa superbis ora virum tristi pendebant pallida tabo. Huic monstro Volcanus erat pater: illius atros ore vomens ignis magna se mole ferebat.
Attulit et nobis aliquando optantibus aetas auxilium adventumque dei. Nam maximus ultor, tergemini nece Geryonae spoliisque superbus Alcides aderat taurosque hac victor agebat ingentis, vallemque boves amnemque tenebant. At furiis Caci mens effera, nequid inausum aut intractatum scelerisve dolive fuisset, quattuor a stabulis praestanti corpore tauros avertit, totidem forma superante iuvencas; atque hos, nequa forent pedibus vestigia rectis, cauda in speluncam tractos versisque viarum indiciis raptos saxo occultabat opaco:
quaerenti nulla ad speluncam signa ferebant. Interea, cum iam stabulis saturata moveret Amphytrioniades armenta abitumque pararet, discessu mugire boves atque omne querelis impleri nemus et colles clamore relinqui. reddidit una boum vocem vastoque sub antro mugiit et Caci spem custodita fefellit. Hic vero Alcidae furiis exarserat atro felle dolor: rapit arma manu nodisque gravatum robur et aerii cursu petit ardua montis. Tum primum nostri Cacum videre timentem turbatumque oculis: fugit ilicet ocior Euro
speluncamque petit, pedibus timor addidit alas. Ut sese inclusit ruptisque immane catenis deiecit saxum, ferro quod et arte paterna pendebat, fultosque emuniit obice postis, ecce furens animis aderat Tirynthius omnemque accessum lustrans huc ora ferebat et illuc, dentibus infrendens. Ter totum fervidus ira lustrat Aventini montem, ter saxea temptat limina nequiquam, ter fessus valle resedit. Stabat acuta silex, praecisis undique saxis speluncae dorso insurgens, altissima visu, dirarum nidis domus opportuna volucrum.
Hanc, ut prona iugo laevum incumbebat in amnem, dexter in adversum nitens concussit et imis avolsam solvit radicibus; inde repente inpulit, inpulsu quo maximus intonat aether dissultant ripae refluitque exterritus amnis. At specus et Caci detecta apparuit ingens regia, et umbrosae penitus patuere cavernae: non secus ac siqua penitus vi terra dehiscens infernas reseret sedes et regna recludat pallida, dis invisa, superque immane barathrum cernatur, trepident inmisso lumine manes. Ergo insperata deprensum luce repente
inclusumque cavo saxo atque insueta rudentem desuper Alcides telis premit omniaque arma advocat et ramis vastisque molaribus instat. Ille autem, neque enim fuga iam super ulla pericli, faucibus ingentem fumum (mirabile dictu) evomit involvitque domum caligine caeca, prospectum eripiens oculis, glomeratque sub antro fumiferam noctem commixtis igne tenebris. Non tulit Alcides animis seque ipse per ignem praecipiti iecit saltu, qua plurimus undam fumus agit nebulaque ingens specus aestuat atra. Hic Cacum in tenebris incendia vana vomentem
corripit in nodum complexus et angit inhaerens elisos oculos et siccum sanguine guttur. Panditur extemplo foribus domus atra revolsis, abstractaeque boves abiurataeque rapinae caelo ostenduntur, pedibusque informe cadaver protrahitur. Nequeunt expleri corda tuendo terribilis oculos, voltum villosaque saetis pectora semiferi atque extinctos faucibus ignis. Ex illo celebratus honos, laetique minores servavere diem, primusque Potitius auctor et domus Herculei custos Pinaria sacri. Hanc aram luco statuit, quae maxuma semper
dicetur nobis et erit quae maxuma semper. Quare agite, o iuvenes, tantarum in munere laudum cingite fronde comas et pocula porgite dextris communemque vocate deum et date vina volentes. Dixerat, Herculea bicolor cum populus umbra velavitque comas foliisque innexa pependit et sacer implevit dextram scyphus. Ocius omnes in mensam laeti libant divosque precantur. Devexo interea propior fit Vesper Olympo, iamque sacerdotes primusque Potitius ibant, pellibus in morem cincti, flammasque ferebant. Instaurant epulas et mensae grata secundae
dona ferunt cumulantque oneratis lancibus aras. tum Salii ad cantus incensa altaria circum populeis adsunt evincti tempora ramis, hic iuvenum chorus, ille senum; qui carmine laudes Herculeas et facta ferunt: ut prima novercae monstra manu geminosque premens eliserit angues, ut bello egregias idem disiecerit urbes, Troiamque Oechaliamque, ut duros mille labores rege sub Eurystheo fatis Iunonis iniquae pertulerit. Tu nubigenas, invicte, bimembris Hylaeeumque Pholumque, manu, tu Cresia mactas prodigia et vastum Nemeae sub rupe leonem.
Te Stygii tremuere lacus, te ianitor Orci ossa super recubans antro semesa cruento; nec te ullae facies, non terruit ipse Typhoeus, arduus arma tenens; non te rationis egentem Lernaeus turba capitum circumstetit anguis. Salve, vera Iovis proles, decus addite divis, et nos et tua dexter adi pede sacra secundo. Talia carminibus celebrant; super omnia Caci speluncam adiciunt spirantemque ignibus ipsum. Consonat omne nemus strepitu collesque resultant. Exim se cuncti divinis rebus ad urbem perfectis referunt. Ibat rex obsitus aevo
et comitem Aenean iuxta natumque tenebat ingrediens varioque viam sermone levabat. miratur facilisque oculos fert omnia circum Aeneas capiturque locis et singula laetus exquiritque auditque virum monimenta priorum. Tum rex Euandrus, Romanae conditor arcis: Haec nemora indigenae fauni nymphaeque tenebant gensque virum truncis et duro robore nata, quis neque mos neque cultus erat, nec iungere tauros aut componere opes norant aut parcere parto, sed rami atque asper victu venatus alebat. Primus ab aetherio venit Saturnus Olympo,
arma Iovis fugiens et regnis exsul ademptis. Is genus indocile ac dispersum montibus altis composuit legesque dedit Latiumque vocari maluit, his quoniam latuisset tutis in oris. Aurea quae perhibent illo sub rege fuere saecula. Sic placida populos in pace regebat, deterior donec paulatim ac decolor aetas et belli rabies et amor successit habendi. Tum manus Ausonia et gentes venere Sicanae, saepius et nomen posuit Saturnia tellus; tum reges asperque immani corpore Thybris, a quo post Itali fluvium cognomine Thybrim
diximus, amisit verum vetus Albula nomen; me pulsum patria pelagique extrema sequentem Fortuna omnipotens et ineluctabile fatum his posuere locis matrisque egere tremenda Carmentis nymphae monita et deus auctor Apollo. Vix ea dicta: dehinc progressus monstrat et aram et Carmentalem Romani nomine portam quam memorant, nymphae priscum Carmentis honorem, vatis fatidicae, cecinit quae prima futuros Aeneadas magnos et nobile Pallanteum. Hinc lucum ingentem quem Romulus acer Asylum rettulit et gelida monstrat sub rupe Lupercal,
Parrhasio dictum Panos de more Lycaei. Nec non et sacri monstrat nemus Argileti testaturque locum et letum docet hospitis Argi. Hinc ad Tarpeiam sedem et Capitolia ducit, aurea nunc, olim silvestribus horrida dumis. Iam tum religio pavidos terrebat agrestis dira loci, iam tum silvam saxumque tremebant. Hoc nemus, hunc, inquit, frondoso vertice collem (quis deus incertum est) habitat deus: Arcades ipsum credunt se vidisse Iovem, cum saepe nigrantem aegida concuteret dextra nimbosque cieret. Haec duo praeterea disiectis oppida muris,
reliquias veterumque vides monimenta virorum. Hanc Ianus pater, hanc Saturnus condidit arcem: Ianiculum huic, illi fuerat Saturnia nomen. Talibus inter se dictis ad tecta subibant pauperis Euandri passimque armenta videbant Romanoque foro et lautis mugire Carinis. Ut ventum ad sedes: Haec, inquit, limina victor Alcides subiit, haec illum regia cepit. Aude, hospes, contemnere opes et te quoque dignum finge deo rebusque veni non asper egenis. dixit et angusti subter fastigia tecti ingentem Aenean duxit stratisque locavit
effultum foliis et pelle Libystidis ursae. Nox ruit et fuscis tellurem amplectitur alis. At Venus haud animo nequiquam exterrita mater Laurentumque minis et duro mota tumultu Volcanum adloquitur thalamoque haec coniugis aureo incipit et dictis divinum adspirat amorem: Dum bello Argolici vastabant Pergama reges debita casurasque inimicis ignibus arces, non ullum auxilium miseris, non arma rogavi artis opisque tuae nec te, carissime coniunx, incassumve tuos volui exercere labores, quamvis et Priami deberem plurima natis
et durum Aeneae flevissem saepe laborem. Nunc Iovis imperiis Rutulorum constitit oris: ergo eadem supplex venio et sanctum mihi numen arma rogo genetrix nato. Te filia Nerei, te potuit lacrimis Tithonia flectere coniunx. Aspice qui coeant populi, quae moenia clausis ferrum acuant portis in me exscidiumque meorum. Dixerat et niveis hinc atque hinc diva lacertis cunctantem amplexu molli fovet. Ille repente accepit solitam flammam, notusque medullas intravit calor et labefacta per ossa cucurrit: non secus atque olim tonitru cum rupta corusco
ignea rima micans percurrit lumine nimbos. Sensit laeta dolis et formae conscia coniunx. Tum pater aeterno fatur devinctus amore: Quid causas petis ex alto? Fiducia cessit quo tibi, diva, mei? Similis si cura fuisset, tum quoque fas nobis Teucros armare fuisset: nec pater omnipotens Troiam nec fata vetabant stare decemque alios Priamum superesse per annos. Et nunc, si bellare paras atque haec tibi mens est, quidquid in arte mea possum promittere curae, quod fieri ferro liquidove potest electro, quantum ignes animaeque valent, absiste precando
viribus indubitare tuis. Ea verba locutus optatos dedit amplexus placidumque petivit coniugis infusus gremio per membra soporem. Inde ubi prima quies medio iam noctis abactae curriculo expulerat somnum, cum femina primum, cui tolerare colo vitam tenuique Minerva impositum, cinerem et sopitos suscitat ignes, noctem addens operi, famulasque ad lumina longo exercet penso, castum ut servare cubile coniugis et possit parvos educere natos: haud secus Ignipotens nec tempore segnior illo mollibus e stratis opera ad fabrilia surgit.
Insula Sicanium iuxta latus Aeoliamque erigitur Liparen, fumantibus ardua saxis, quam subter specus et Cyclopum exesa caminis antra Aetnaea tonant validique incudibus ictus auditi referunt gemitus striduntque cavernis stricturae Chalybum et fornacibus ignis anhelat, Volcani domus et Volcania nomine tellus. Hoc tunc ignipotens caelo descendit ab alto. Ferrum exercebant vasto Cyclopes in antro, Brontesque Steropesque et nudus membra Pyragmon. His informatum manibus iam parte polita fulmen erat, toto genitor quae plurima caelo
deicit in terras, pars inperfecta manebat. Tris imbris torti radios, tris nubis aquosae addiderant, rutili tris ignis et alitis austri: fulgores nunc horrificos sonitumque metumque miscebant operi flammisque sequacibus iras. Parte alia Marti currumque rotasque volucris instabant, quibus ille viros, quibus excitat urbes; aegidaque horriferam, turbatae Palladis arma, certatim squamis serpentum auroque polibant conexosque anguis ipsamque in pectore divae Gorgona, desecto vertentem lumina collo. Tollite cuncta, inquit, coeptosque auferte labores,
Aetnaei Cyclopes, et huc advertite mentem: arma acri facienda viro. Nunc viribus usus, nunc manibus rapidis, omni nunc arte magistra. Praecipitate moras. Nec plura effatus; at illi ocius incubuere omnes pariterque laborem sortiti. Fluit aes rivis aurique metallum, volnificusque chalybs vasta fornace liquescit. Ingentum clipeum informant, unum omnia contra tela Latinorum, septenosque orbibus orbes impediunt. Alii ventosis follibus auras accipiunt redduntque, alii stridentia tingunt aera lacu. Gemit impositis incudibus antrum.
Illi inter sese multa vi bracchia tollunt in numerum versantque tenaci forcipe massam. Haec pater Aeoliis properat dum Lemnius oris, Euandrum ex humili tecto lux suscitat alma et matutini volucrum sub culmine cantus. Consurgit senior tunicaque inducitur artus et Tyrrhena pedum circumdat vincula plantis; tum lateri atque umeris Tegeaeum subligat ensem, demissa ab laeva pantherae terga retorquens. Nec non et gemini custodes limine ab alto praecedunt gressumque canes comitantur erilem. Hospitis Aeneae sedem et secreta petebat
sermonum memor et promissi muneris heros. Nec minus Aeneas se matutinus agebat. Filius huic Pallas, illi comes ibat Achates. Congressi iungunt dextras mediisque residunt aedibus et licito tandem sermone fruuntur. Rex prior haec: Maxume Teucrorum ductor, quo sospite numquam res equidem Troiae victas aut regna fatebor, nobis ad belli auxilium pro nomine tanto exiguae vires: hinc Tusco claudimur amni, hinc Rutulus premit et murum circumsonat armis. Sed tibi ego ingentis populos opulentaque regnis
iungere castra paro, quam fors inopina salutem ostentat: fatis huc te poscentibus adfers. Haud procul hinc saxo incolitur fundata vetusto urbis Agyllinae sedes, ubi Lydia quondam gens, bello praeclara, iugis insedit Etruscis. Hanc multos florentem annos rex deinde superbo imperio et saevis tenuit Mezentius armis. Quid memorem infandas caedes, quid facta tyranni effera? Di capiti ipsius generique reservent! Mortua quin etiam iungebat corpora vivis componens manibusque manus atque oribus ora, tormenti genus, et sanie taboque fluentis
complexu in misero longa sic morte necabat. at fessi tandem cives infanda furentem armati circumsistunt ipsumque domumque, obtruncant socios, ignem ad fastigia iactant. Ille inter caedem Rutulorum elapsus in agros confugere et Turni defendier hospitis armis. Ergo omnis furiis surrexit Etruria iustis: regem ad supplicium praesenti Marte reposcunt. his ego te, Aenea, ductorem milibus addam. Toto namque fremunt condensae litore puppes Signaque ferre iubent; retinet longaevus haruspex fata canens, O Maeoniae delecta iuventus,
flos veterum virtusque virum, quos iustus in hostem fert dolor et merita accendit Mezentius ira, nulli fas Italo tantam subiungere gentem: externos optate duces; tum Etrusca resedit hoc acies campo, monitis exterrita divom. Ipse oratores ad me regnique coronam cum sceptro misit mandatque insignia Tarchon, succedam castris Tyrrhenaque regna capessam. Sed mihi tarda gelu saeclisque effeta senectus invidet imperium seraeque ad fortia vires. natum exhortarer, ni mixtus matre Sabella hinc partem patriae traheret. Tu, cuius et annis
et generi fatum indulgent, quem numina poscunt, ingredere, o Teucrum atque Italum fortissime ductor. hunc tibi praeterea, spes et solacia nostri, Pallanta adiungam; sub te tolerare magistro militiam et grave Martis opus, tua cernere facta adsuescat primis et te miretur ab annis. Arcadas huic equites bis centum, robora pubis lecta dabo totidemque suo tibi nomine Pallas. Vix ea fatus erat, defixique ora tenebant Aeneas Anchisiades et fidus Achates multaque dura suo tristi cum corde putabant, ni signum caelo Cytherea dedisset aperto.
Namque inproviso vibratus ab aethere fulgor cum sonitu venit, et ruere omnia visa repente Tyrrhenusque tubae mugire per aethera clangor. Suspiciunt, iterum atque iterum fragor increpat ingens: arma inter nubem caeli regione serena per sudum rutilare vident et pulsa tonare. Obstipuere animis alii, sed Troius heros agnovit sonitum et divae promissa parentis. Tum memorat: Ne vero, hospes, ne quaere profecto, quem casum portenta ferant: ego poscor Olympo. Hoc signum cecinit missuram diva creatrix, si bellum ingrueret, Volcaniaque arma per auras
laturam auxilio. Heu quantae miseris caedes Laurentibus instant; quas poenas mihi, Turne, dabis; quam multa sub undas scuta virum galeasque et fortia corpora volves, Thybri pater! Poscant acies et foedera rumpant. Haec ubi dicta dedit, solio se tollit ab alto et primum Herculeis sopitas ignibus aras excitat hesternumque larem parvosque penatis laetus adit: mactant lectas de more bidentis Euandrus pariter, pariter Troiana iuventus. Post hinc ad navis graditur sociosque revisit. Quorum de numero qui sese in bella sequantur
praestantis virtute legit; pars cetera prona fertur aqua segnisque secundo defluit amni, nuntia ventura Ascanio rerumque patrisque. Dantur equi Teucris Tyrrhena petentibus arva; ducunt exsortem Aeneae, quem fulva leonis pellis obit totum, praefulgens unguibus aureis. Fama volat parvam subito volgata per urbem, ocius ire equites Tyrrheni ad litora regis. vota metu duplicant matres, propiusque periclo it timor, et maior Martis iam apparet imago. tum pater Evandrus dextram complexus euntis haeret inexpletus lacrimans, ac talia fatur:
O mihi praeteritos referat si Iuppiter annos, (qualis eram, cum primam aciem Praeneste sub ipsa stravi scutorumque incendi victor acervos et regem hac Erulum dextra sub Tartara misi, nascenti cui tris animas Feronia mater (horrendum dictu) dederat; terna arma movenda, ter Leto sternendus erat; cui tunc tamen omnis abstulit haec animas dextra et totidem exuit armis: non ego nunc dulci amplexu divellerer usquam, nate, tuo, neque finitimo Mezentius umquam huic capiti insultans tot ferro saeva dedisset funera, tam multis viduasset civibus urbem.
At vos, o superi, et divom tu maxume rector Iuppiter, Arcadii, quaeso, miserescite regis et patrias audite preces. Si numina vestra incolumem Pallanta mihi, si fata reservant, si visurus eum vivo et venturus in unum: vitam oro, patior quemvis durare laborem. Sin aliquem infandum casum, Fortuna, minaris: nunc O nunc liceat crudelem abrumpere vitam, dum curae ambiguae, dum spes incerta futuri, dum te, care puer, mea sera et sola voluptas, complexu teneo, gravior neu nuntius auris volneret. Haec genitor digressu dicta supremo
fundebat: famuli conlapsum in tecta ferebant. Iamque adeo exierat portis equitatus apertis, Aeneas inter primos et fidus Achates, inde alii Troiae proceres, ipse agmine Pallas in medio chlamyde et pictis conspectus in armis: qualis ubi Oceani perfusus Lucifer unda, quem Venus ante alios astrorum diligit ignis, extulit os sacrum caelo tenebrasque resolvit. Stant pavidae in muris matres oculisque sequuntur pulveream nubem et fulgentis aere catervas. Olli per dumos, qua proxuma meta viarum, armati tendunt; it clamor, et agmine facto
quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum. Est ingens gelidum lucus prope Caeritis amnem, religione patrum late sacer; undique colles inclusere cavi et nigra nemus abiete cingunt. Silvano fama est veteres sacrasse Pelasgos, arvorum pecorisque deo, lucumque diemque, qui primi finis aliquando habuere Latinos: haud procul hinc Tarcho et Tyrrheni tuta tenebant castra locis, celsoque omnis de colle videri iam poterat legio et latis tendebat in arvis. Huc pater Aeneas et bello lecta iuventus succedunt fessique et equos et corpora curant.
At Venus aetherios inter dea candida nimbos dona ferens aderat; natumque in valle reducta ut procul egelido secretum flumine vidit, talibus adfata est dictis seque obtulit ultro: En perfecta mei promissa coniugis arte munera, ne mox aut Laurentis, nate, superbos aut acrem dubites in proelia poscere Turnum. Dixit et amplexus nati Cytherea petivit, arma sub adversa posuit radiantia quercu. Ille, deae donis et tanto laetus honore, expleri nequit atque oculos per singula volvit miraturque interque manus et bracchia versat
terribilem cristis galeam flammasque vomentem fatiferumque ensem, loricam ex aere rigentem sanguineam ingentem, qualis cum caerula nubes solis inardescit radiis longeque refulget; tum levis ocreas electro auroque recocto hastamque et clipei non enarrabile textum. Illic res Italas Romanorumque triumphos haud vatum ignarus venturique inscius aevi fecerat ignipotens, illic genus omne futurae stirpis ab Ascanio. pugnataque in ordine bella. Fecerat et viridi fetam Mavortis in antro procubuisse lupam, geminos huic ubera circum
ludere pendentis pueros et lambere matrem impavidos, illam tereti cervice reflexa mulcere alternos et corpora fingere lingua. Nec procul hinc Romam et raptas sine more Sabinas consessu caveae magnis circensibus actis addiderat subitoque novum consurgere bellum Romulidis Tatioque seni Curibusque severis. Post idem inter se posito certamine reges armati Iovis ante aram paterasque tenentes stabant et caesa iungebant foedera porca. Haud procul inde citae Mettum in diversa quadrigae distulerant, at tu dictis, Albane, maneres,
raptabatque viri mendacis viscera Tullus per silvam, et sparsi rorabant sanguine vepres. Nec non Tarquinium eiectum Porsenna iubebat accipere ingentique urbem obsidione premebat: Aeneadae in ferrum pro libertate ruebant. Illum indignanti similem similemque minanti aspiceres, pontem auderet quia vellere Cocles et fluvium vinclis innaret Cloelia ruptis. In summo custos Tarpeiae Manlius arcis stabat pro templo et Capitolia celsa tenebat, Romuleoque recens horrebat regia culmo. Atque hic auratis volitans argenteus anser
porticibus Gallos in limine adesse canebat. Galli per dumos aderant arcemque tenebant, defensi tenebris et dono noctis opacae: aurea caesaries ollis atque aurea vestis, virgatis lucent sagulis, tum lactea colla auro innectuntur, duo quisque Alpina coruscant gaesa manu, scutis protecti corpora longis. Hic exsultantis Salios nudosque Lupercos lanigerosque apices et lapsa ancilia caelo extuderat, castae ducebant sacra per urbem pilentis matres in mollibus. Hinc procul addit Tartareas etiam sedes, alta ostia Ditis,
et scelerum poenas et te, Catilina, minaci pendentem scopulo Furiarumque ora trementem, secretosque pios, his dantem iura Catonem. Haec inter tumidi late maris ibat imago aurea, sed fluctu spumabant caerula cano; et circum argento clari delphines in orbem aequora verrebant caudis aestumque secabant. In medio classis aeratas, Actia bella, cernere erat, totumque instructo Marte videres fervere Leucaten auroque effulgere fluctus. Hinc Augustus agens Italos in proelia Caesar cum patribus populoque, penatibus et magnis dis,
stans celsa in puppi; geminas cui tempora flammas laeta vomunt patriumque aperitur vertice sidus. Parte alia ventis et dis Agrippa secundis arduus agmen agens; cui, belli insigne superbum, tempora navali fulgent rostrata corona. Hinc ope barbarica variisque Antonius armis, victor ab Aurorae populis et litore rubro, Aegyptum viresque Orientis et ultima secum Bactra vehit, sequiturque (nefas) Aegyptia coniunx. Una omnes ruere, ac totum spumare reductis convolsum remis rostrisque tridentibus aequor. alta petunt: pelago credas innare revolsas
Cycladas aut montis concurrere montibus altos, tanta mole viri turritis puppibus instant. stuppea flamma manu telisque volatile ferrum spargitur, arva nova Neptunia caede rubescunt. Regina in mediis patrio vocat agmina sistro necdum etiam geminos a tergo respicit anguis. omnigenumque deum monstra et latrator Anubis contra Neptunum et Venerem contraque Minervam tela tenent. Saevit medio in certamine Mavors caelatus ferro tristesque ex aethere Dirae, et scissa gaudens vadit Discordia palla, quam cum sanguineo sequitur Bellona flagello.
Actius haec cernens arcum tendebat Apollo desuper: omnis eo terrore Aegyptus et Indi, omnis Arabs, omnes vertebant terga Sabaei. Ipsa videbatur ventis regina vocatis vela dare et laxos iam iamque inmittere funis. Illam inter caedes pallentem morte futura fecerat Ignipotens undis et Iapyge ferri, contra autem magno maerentem corpore Nilum pandentemque sinus et tota veste vocantem caeruleum in gremium latebrosaque flumina victos. At Caesar, triplici invectus Romana triumpho moenia, dis Italis votum inmortale sacrabat,
maxuma tercentum totam delubra per urbem. Laetitia ludisque viae plausuque fremebant; omnibus in templis matrum chorus, omnibus arae; ante aras terram caesi stravere iuvenci. Ipse, sedens niveo candentis limine Phoebi, dona recognoscit populorum aptatque superbis postibus; incedunt victae longo ordine gentes, quam variae linguis, habitu tam vestis et armis. Hic Nomadum genus et discinctos Mulciber Afros, hic Lelegas Carasque sagittiferosque Gelonos finxerat; Euphrates ibat iam mollior undis, extremique hominum Morini, Rhenusque bicornis,
indomitique Dahae, et pontem indignatus Araxes. Talia per clipeum Volcani, dona parentis, miratur rerumque ignarus imagine gaudet, attollens umero famamque et fata nepotum.
Book 9
Atque ea diversa penitus dum parte geruntur, Irim de caelo misit Saturnia Iuno audacem ad Turnum. Luco tum forte parentis Pilumni Turnus sacrata valle sedebat. Ad quem sic roseo Thaumantias ore locuta est: Turne, quod optanti divom promittere nemo auderet, volvenda dies en attulit ultro. Aeneas urbe et sociis et classe relicta sceptra Palatini sedemque petit Euandri. Nec satis: extremas Corythi penetravit ad urbes Lydorumque manum collectos armat agrestis. Quid dubitas? Nunc tempus equos, nunc poscere currus.
Rumpe moras omnis et turbata arripe castra. Dixit et in caelum paribus se sustulit alis ingentemque fuga secuit sub nubibus arcum. Adgnovit iuvenis duplicisque ad sidera palmas sustulit ac tali fugientem est voce secutus: Iri, decus caeli, quis te mihi nubibus actam detulit in terras? Unde haec tam clara repente tempestas? Medium video discedere caelum palantisque polo stellas. Sequor omina tanta, quisquis in arma vocas. Et sic effatus ad undam processit summoque hausit de gurgite lymphas, multa deos orans, oneravitque aethera votis.
Iamque omnis campis exercitus ibat apertis, dives equum, dives pictaï vestis et auri; Messapus primas acies, postrema coercent Tyrrhidae iuvenes, medio dux agmine Turnus, Ceu septem surgens sedatis amnibus altus per tacitum Ganges aut pingui flumine Nilus cum refluit campis et iam se condidit alveo. Hic subitam nigro glomerari pulvere nubem prospiciunt Teucri ac tenebras insurgere campis. Primus ab adversa conclamat mole Caicus: Quis globus, o cives, caligine volvitur atra? Ferte citi ferrum, date tela, ascendite muros,
hostis adest, heia! Ingenti clamore per omnis condunt se Teucri portas et moenia complent. Namque ita discedens praeceperat optumus armis Aeneas: siqua interea fortuna fuisset, neu struere auderent aciem neu credere campo; castra modo et tutos servarent aggere muros. Ergo etsi conferre manum pudor iraque monstrat, obiciunt portas tamen et praecepta facessunt armatique cavis expectant turribus hostem. Turnus ut ante volans tardum praecesserat agmen viginti lectis equitum comitatus, et urbi improvisus adest; maculis quem Thracius albis
portat equus cristaque tegit galea aurea rubra. Ecquis erit, mecum, iuvenes, qui primus in hostem? En, ait et iaculum attorquens emittit in auras, principium pugnae, et campo sese arduus infert. Clamore excipiunt socii fremituque sequuntur horrisono: Teucrum mirantur inertia corda, non aequo dare se campo, non obvia ferre arma viros, sed castra fovere. Huc turbidus atque huc lustrat equo muros aditumque per avia quaerit. Ac veluti pleno lupus insidiatus ovili cum fremit ad caulas, ventos perpessus et imbris, nocte super media; tuti sub matribus agni
balatum exercent, ille asper et improbus ira saevit in absentis, collecta fatigat edendi ex longo rabies et siccae sanguine fauces: haud aliter Rutulo muros et castra tuenti ignescunt irae, duris dolor ossibus ardet. Qua temptet ratione aditus et quae via clausos excutiat Teucros vallo atque effundat in aequum? Classem, quae lateri castrorum adiuncta latebat, aggeribus saeptam circum et fluvialibus undis, invadit sociosque incendia poscit ovantis atque manum pinu flagranti fervidus implet. Tum vero incumbunt, urget praesentia Turni,
atque omnis facibus pubes accingitur atris. Diripuere focos; piceum fert fumida lumen taeda et commixtam Volcanus ad astra favillam. Quis deus, o musae, tam saeva incendia Teucris avertit? Tantos ratibus quis depulit ignes? Dicite. Prisca fides facto, sed fama perennis. Tempore quo primum Phrygia formabat in Ida Aeneas classem et pelagi petere alta parabat, ipsa deum fertur genetrix Berecyntia magnum vocibus his adfata Iovem: Da, nate, petenti, quod tua cara parens domito te poscit Olympo. lucus in arce fuit summa, quo sacra ferebant,
nigranti picea trabibusque obscurus acernis: has ego Dardanio iuveni, cum classis egeret, laeta dedi; nunc sollicitam timor anxius angit. Solve metus atque hoc precibus sine posse parentem: ne cursu quassatae ullo neu turbine venti vincantur, prosit nostris in montibus ortas. Filius huic contra, torquet qui sidera mundi: O genetrix, quo fata vocas, aut quid petis istis? Mortaline manu factae immortale carinae fas habeant certusque incerta pericula lustret Aeneas? Cui tanta deo permissa potestas? Immo ubi defunctae finem portusque tenebunt
Ausonios olim, quaecumque evaserit undis Dardaniumque ducem Laurentia vexerit arva, mortalem eripiam formam magnique iubebo aequoris esse deas, qualis Nereia Doto et Galatea secant spumantem pectore pontum. Dixerat idque ratum Stygii per flumina fratris, per pice torrentis atraque voragine ripas adnuit et totum nutu tremefecit Olympum. Ergo aderat promissa dies et tempora Parcae debita complerant, cum Turni iniuria Matrem admonuit ratibus sacris depellere taedas. Hic primum nova lux oculis offulsit et ingens
visus ab Aurora caelum transcurrere nimbus Idaeique chori; tum vox horrenda per auras excidit et Troum Rutulorumque agmina complet: Ne trepidate meas, Teucri, defendere navis neve armate manus: maria ante exurere Turno quam sacras dabitur pinus. Vos ite solutae, ite deae pelagi: genetrix iubet. Et sua quaeque continuo puppes abrumpunt vincula ripis delphinumque modo demersis aequora rostris ima petunt. Hinc virgineae (mirabile monstrum) quot prius aeratae steterant ad litora prorae reddunt se totidem facies pontoque feruntur.
Obstipuere animis Rutuli, conterritus ipse turbatis Messapus equis, cunctatur et amnis rauca sonans revocatque pedem Tiberinus ab alto. At non audaci Turno fiducia cessit; ultro animos tollit dictis atque increpat ultro: Troianos haec monstra petunt, his Iuppiter ipse auxilium solitum eripuit, non tela neque ignes exspectans Rutulos. Ergo maria invia Teucris nec spes ulla fugae: rerum pars altera adempta est. Terra autem in nostris manibus, tot milia gentes arma ferunt Italae. Nil me fatalia terrent, siqua Phryges prae se iactant, responsa deorum:
sat fatis Venerique datum, tetigere quod arva fertilis Ausoniae Troes. Sunt et mea contra fata mihi, ferro sceleratam exscindere gentem, coniuge praerepta: nec solos tangit Atridas iste dolor solisque licet capere arma Mycenis. Sed periisse semel satis est: peccare fuisset ante satis penitus modo non genus omne perosos femineum. Quibus haec medii fiducia valli fossarumque morae, leti discrimina parva, dant animos. At non viderunt moenia Troiae Neptuni fabricata manu considere in ignis? Sed vos, o lecti, ferro qui scindere vallum
apparat et mecum invadit trepidantia castra. Non armis mihi Volcani, non mille carinis est opus in Teucros; addant se protinus omnes Etrusci socios, tenebras et inertia furta Palladii caesis summae custodibus arcis ne timeant, nec equi caeca condemur in alvo: luce palam certum est igni circumdare muros. Haud sibi cum Danais rem faxo et pube Pelasga esse ferant, decumum quos distulit Hector in annum. Nunc adeo, melior quoniam pars acta diei, quod superest, laeti bene gestis corpora rebus procurate, viri, et pugnam sperate parari.
Interea vigilum excubiis obsidere portas cura datur Messapo et moenia cingere flammis. Bis septem Rutuli, muros qui milite servent, delecti; ast illos centeni quemque sequuntur purpurei cristis iuvenes auroque corusci. Discurrunt variantque vices fusique per herbam indulgent vino et vertunt crateras aenos. Conlucent ignes, noctem custodia ducit insomnem ludo. Haec super e vallo prospectant Troes et armis alta tenent, nec non trepidi formidine portas explorant pontisque et propugnacula iungunt,
tela gerunt. Instat Mnestheus acerque Serestus, quos pater Aeneas, siquando adversa vocarent, rectores iuvenum et rerum dedit esse magistros. Omnis per muros legio, sortita periclum, excubat exercetque vices, quod cuique tuendum est. Nisus erat portae custos, acerrimus armis, Hyrtacides, comitem Aeneae quem miserat Ida venatrix iaculo celerem levibusque sagittis; it iuxta comes Euryalus, quo pulchrior alter non fuit Aeneadum Troiana neque induit arma, ora puer prima signans intonsa iuventa. His amor unus erat, pariterque in bella ruebant:
tum quoque communi portam statione tenebant. Nisus ait: Dine hunc ardorem mentibus addunt, Euryale, an sua cuique deus fit dira cupido? Aut pugnam aut aliquid iamdudum invadere magnum mens agitat mihi nec placida contenta quietest. Cernis, quae Rutulos habeat fiducia rerum. Lumina rara micant; somno vinoque soluti procubuere; silent late loca: percipe porro, quid dubitem et quae nunc animo sententia surgat. Aenean acciri omnes, populusque patresque, exposcunt mittique viros, qui certa reportent. Si tibi quae posco promittunt (nam mihi facti
fama sat est), tumulo videor reperire sub illo posse viam ad muros et moenia Pallantea. Obstipuit magno laudum percussus amore Euryalus; simul his ardentem adfatur amicum: Mene igitur socium summis adiungere rebus, Nise, fugis? Solum te in tanta pericula mittam? Non ita me genitor, bellis adsuetus Opheltes, Argolicum terrorem inter Troiaeque labores sublatum erudiit, nec tecum talia gessi, magnanimum Aenean et fata extrema secutus: est hic, est animus lucis contemptor et istum qui vita bene credat emi, quo tendis, honorem.
Nisus ad haec: Equidem de te nil tale verebar nec fas, non, ita me referat tibi magnus ovantem Iuppiter aut quicumque oculis haec aspicit aequis. Sed siquis, quae multa vides discrimine tali, siquis in adversum rapiat casusve deusve, te superesse velim; tua vita dignior aetas. Sit qui me raptum pugna pretiove redemptum mandet humo solita aut siqua id Fortuna vetabit, absenti ferat inferias decoretque sepulchro. Neu matri miserae tanti sim causa doloris, quae te sola, puer, multis e matribus ausa persequitur magni nec moenia curat Acestae,
Ille autem: Causas nequiquam nectis inanis, nec mea iam mutata loco sententia cedit: adceleremus, ait. Vigiles simul excitat, illi succedunt servantque vices: statione relicta ipse comes Niso graditur, regemque requirunt. Cetera per terras omnis animalia somno laxabant curas et corda oblita laborum: ductores Teucrum primi et delecta iuventus consilium summis regni de rebus habebant, quid facerent quisve Aeneae iam nuntius esset. Stant longis adnixi hastis, et scuta tenentes, castrorum et campi medio. Tum Nisus et una
Euryalus confestim alacres admittier orant: rem magnam, pretiumque morae fore. Primus Iulus accepit trepidos ac Nisum dicere iussit. Tum sic Hyrtacides: Audite O mentibus aequis, Aeneadae, neve haec nostris spectentur ab annis, quae ferimus. Rutuli somno vinoque soluti conticuere; locum insidiis conspeximus ipsi, qui patet in bivio portae, quae proxuma ponto; interrupti ignes, aterque ad sidera fumus erigitur: si fortuna permittitis uti quaesitum Aenean et moenia Pallantea, mox hic cum spoliis ingenti caede peracta
adfore cernetis. Nec nos via fallit euntis: vidimus obscuris primam sub vallibus urbem venatu adsiduo et totum cognovimus amnem. Hic annis gravis atque animi maturus Aletes: Di patrii, quorum semper sub numine Troia est, non tamen omnino Teucros delere paratis, cum talis animos iuvenum et tam certa tulistis pectora. Sic memorans umeros dextrasque tenebat amborum et voltum lacrimis atque ora rigabat. Quae vobis, quae digna, viri, pro laudibus istis praemia posse rear solvi? Pulcherrima primum di moresque dabunt vestri; tum cetera reddet
actutum pius Aeneas atque integer aevi Ascanius, meriti tanti non immemor umquam. Immo ego vos, cui sola salus genitore reducto, excipit Ascanius, per magnos, Nise, penatis Assaracique larem et canae penetralia Vestae obtestor; quaecumque mihi fortuna fidesque est, in vestris pono gremiis: revocate parentem, reddite conspectum; nihil illo triste recepto. Bina dabo argento perfecta atque aspera signis pocula, devicta genitor quae cepit Arisba, et tripodas geminos, auri duo magna talenta, cratera antiquum, quem dat Sidonia Dido.
Si vero capere Italiam sceptrisque potiri contigerit victori et praedae dicere sortem, vidisti quo Turnus equo, quibus ibat in armis aureus: ipsum illum, clipeum cristasque rubentis excipiam sorti, iam nunc tua praemia, Nise. Praeterea bis sex genitor lectissima matrum corpora captivosque dabit suaque omnibus arma, insuper his campi quod rex habet ipse Latinus. Te vero, mea quem spatiis propioribus aetas insequitur, venerande puer, iam pectore toto accipio et comitem casus complector in omnis. Nulla meis sine te quaeretur gloria rebus;
seu pacem seu bella geram, tibi maxima rerum verborumque fides. Contra quem talia fatur Euryalus: Me nulla dies tam fortibus ausis dissimilem arguerit; tantum, fortuna secunda aut adversa cadat. Sed te super omnia dona unum oro, genetrix Priami de gente vetusta est mihi, quam miseram tenuit non Ilia tellus mecum excedentem, non moenia regis Acestae. Hanc ego nunc ignaram huius quodcumque pericli est inque salutatam linquo: nox et tua testis dextera, quod nequeam lacrumas perferre parentis at tu, oro, solare inopem et succurre relictae.
Hanc sine me spem ferre tui: audentior ibo in casus omnis. Percussa mente dedere Dardanidae lacrimas; ante omnis pulcher Iulus, atque animum patriae strinxit pietatis imago. Tum sic effatur: Sponde digna tuis ingentibus omnia coeptis. Namque erit ista mihi genetrix nomenque Creusae solum defuerit, nec partum gratia talem parva manet. Casus factum quicumque sequentur, per caput hoc iuro, per quod pater ante solebat: quae tibi polliceor reduci rebusque secundis, haec eadem matrique tuae generique manebunt.
Sic ait inlacrimans; umero simul exuit ensem auratum, mira quem fecerat arte Lycaon Gnosius atque habilem vagina aptarat eburna. Dat Niso Mnestheus pellem horrentisque leonis exuvias; galeam fidus permutat Aletes. Protinus armati incedunt; quos omnis euntis primorum manus ad portas iuvenumque senumque prosequitur votis. Nec non et pulcher Iulus, ante annos animumque gerens curamque virilem, multa patri mandata dabat portanda: sed aurae omnia discerpunt et nubibus inrita donant. Egressi superant fossas noctisque per umbram
castra inimica petunt, multis tamen ante futuri exitio. Passim somno vinoque per herbam corpora fusa vident, arrectos litore currus, inter lora rotasque viros, simul arma iacere, vina simul. Prior Hyrtacides sic ore locutus: Euryale, audendum dextra; nunc ipsa vocat res. Hac iter est. Tu, ne qua manus se attollere nobis a tergo possit, custodi et consule longe; haec ego vasta dabo et lato te limite ducam. Sic memorat vocemque premit; simul ense superbum Rhamnetem adgreditur, qui forte tapetibus altis exstructus toto proflabat pectore somnum.
Rex idem et regi Turno gratissimus augur, sed non augurio potuit depellere pestem. Tris iuxta famulos temere inter tela iacentis armigerumque Remi premit aurigamque sub ipsis nanctus equis ferroque secat pendentia colla; tum caput ipsi aufert domino truncumque relinquit sanguine singultantem; atro tepefacta cruore terra torique madent. Nec non Lamyrumque Lamumque et iuvenem Serranum, illa qui plurima nocte luserat, insignis facie, multoque iacebat membra deo victus: felix, si protinus illum aequasset nocti ludum in lucemque tulisset.
Impastus ceu plena leo per ovilia turbans (suadet enim vesana fames) manditque trahitque molle pecus mutumque metu, fremit ore cruento: nec minor Euryali caedes; incensus et ipse perfurit ac multam in medio sine nomine plebem, Fadumque Herbesumque subit Rhoetumque Abarimque, ignaros, Rhoetum vigilantem et cuncta videntem, sed magnum metuens se post cratera tegebat; pectore in adverso totum cui comminus ensem condidit adsurgenti et multa morte recepit. Purpuream vomit ille animam et cum sanguine mixta vina refert moriens; hic furto fervidus instat.
Iamque ad Messapi socios tendebat; ibi ignem deficere extremum et religatos rite videbat carpere gramen equos: breviter cum talia Nisus. sensit enim nimia caede atque cupidine ferri: Absistamus, ait, nam lux inimica propinquat. Poenarum exhaustum satis est, via facta per hostis. Multa virum solido argento perfecta relinquunt armaque craterasque simul pulchrosque tapetas. Euryalus phaleras Rhamnetis et aurea bullis cingula, Tiburti Remulo ditissimus olim quae mittit dona hospitio cum iungeret absens Caedicus, ille suo moriens dat habere nepoti,
haec rapit atque umeris nequiquam fortibus aptat. Tum galeam Messapi habilem cristisque decoram induit. Excedunt castris et tuta capessunt. Interea praemissi equites ex urbe Latina, cetera dum legio campis instructa moratur, ibant et Turno regi responsa ferebant, tercentum, scutati omnes, Volcente magistro. Iamque propinquabant castris murosque subibant, cum procul hos laevo flectentis limite cernunt et galea Euryalum sublustri noctis in umbra prodidit immemorem radiisque adversa refulsit. Haud temere est visum. Conclamat ab agmine Volcens
State, viri. Quae causa viae? Quive estis in armis? Quove tenetis iter? Nihil illi tendere contra, sed celerare fugam in silvas et fidere nocti. Obiciunt equites sese ad divortia nota hinc atque hinc omnemque abitum custode coronant. Silva fuit late dumis atque ilice nigra horrida, quam densi complerant undique sentes; rara per occultos lucebat semita calles. Euryalum tenebrae ramorum onerosaque praeda impediunt fallitque timor regione viarum; Nisus abit, iamque imprudens evaserat hostis atque locos, qui post Albae de nomine dicti
Albani, tum rex stabula alta Latinus habebat, ut stetit et frustra absentem respexit amicum. Euryale infelix, qua te regione reliqui? Quave sequar, rursus perplexum iter omne revolvens fallacis silvae? Simul et vestigia retro observata legit dumisque silentibus errat. Audit equos, audit strepitus et signa sequentum. Nec longum in medio tempus, cum clamor ad auris pervenit ac videt Euryalum, quem iam manus omnis fraude loci et noctis, subito turbante tumultu, oppressum rapit et conantem plurima frustra. Quid faciat? Qua vi iuvenem, quibus audeat armis
eripere? An sese medios moriturus in enses inferat et pulchram properet per volnera mortem? Ocius adducto torquens hastile lacerto, suspiciens altam Lunam sic voce precatur: Tu, dea, tu praesens nostro succurre labori, astrorum decus et nemorum Latonia custos. Siqua tuis umquam pro me pater Hyrtacus aris dona tulit, siqua ipse meis venatibus auxi suspendive tholo aut sacra ad fastigia fixi: hunc sine me turbare globum et rege tela per auras. Dixerat, et toto conixus corpore ferrum conicit: hasta volans noctis diverberat umbras
et venit aversi in tergum Sulmonis ibique frangitur ac fisso transit praecordia ligno. Volvitur ille vomens calidum de pectore flumen frigidus et longis singultibus ilia pulsat. Diversi circumspiciunt. Hoc acrior idem ecce aliud summa telum librabat ab aure. Dum trepidant, it hasta Tago per tempus utrumque stridens traiectoque haesit tepefacta cerebro. Saevit atrox Volcens nec teli conspicit usquam auctorem nec quo se ardens inmittere possit. Tu tamen interea calido mihi sanguine poenas persolves amborum, inquit; simul ense recluso
ibat in Euryalum. Tum vero exterritus, amens conclamat Nisus, nec se celare tenebris amplius aut tantum potuit perferre dolorem. Me me, adsum qui feci, in me convertite ferrum, O Rutuli, mea fraus omnis; nihil iste nec ausus nec potuit, caelum hoc et conscia sidera testor, tantum infelicem nimium dilexit amicum. Talia dicta dabat; sed viribus ensis adactus transabiit costas et candida pectora rumpit. Volvitur Euryalus leto, pulchrosque per artus it cruor, inque umeros cervix conlapsa recumbit: purpureus veluti cum flos succisus aratro
languescit moriens lassove papavera collo demisere caput, pluvia cum forte gravantur. At Nisus ruit in medios solumque per omnis Volcentem petit in solo Volcente moratur. Quem circum glomerati hostes hinc comminus atque hinc proturbant. Instat non setius ac rotat ensem fulmineum, donec Rutuli clamantis in ore condidit adverso et moriens animam abstulit hosti. Tum super exanimum sese proiecit amicum confossus placidaque ibi demum morte quievit. Fortunati ambo! Siquid mea carmina possunt, nulla dies umquam memori vos eximet aevo,
dum domus Aeneae Capitoli immobile saxum accolet imperiumque pater Romanus habebit. Victores praeda Rutuli spoliisque potiti Volcentem exanimum flentes in castra ferebant. Nec minor in castris luctus Rhamnete reperto exsangui et primis una tot caede peremptis, Serranoque Numaque. Ingens concursus ad ipsa corpora seminecisque viros tepidaque recentem caede locum et plenos spumanti sanguine rivos. Agnoscunt spolia inter se galeamque nitentem Messapi et multo phaleras sudore receptas. Et iam prima novo spargebat lumine terras
Tithoni croceum linquens Aurora cubile: iam sole infuso, iam rebus luce retectis Turnus in arma viros, armis circumdatus ipse, suscitat, aeratasque acies in proelia cogit quisque suas variisque acuunt rumoribus iras. Quin ipsa arrectis (visu miserabile) in hastis praefigunt capita et multo clamore sequuntur Euryali et Nisi. Aeneadae duri murorum in parte sinistra opposuere aciem, nam dextera cingitur amni, ingentisque tenent fossas et turribus altis stant maesti; simul ora virum praefixa movebant,
nota nimis miseris atroque fluentia tabo. Interea pavidam volitans pennata per urbem nuntia Fama ruit matrisque adlabitur auris Euryali. At subitus miserae calor ossa reliquit, excussi manibus radii revolutaque pensa. Evolat infelix et femineo ululatu, scissa comam, muros amens atque agmina cursu prima petit, non illa virum, non illa pericli telorumque memor; caelum dehinc questibus implet: Hunc ego te, Euryale, aspicio? Tune illa senectae sera meae requies, potuisti linquere solam, crudelis? Nec te, sub tanta pericula missum,
adfari extremum miserae data copia matri? Heu, terra ignota canibus data praeda Latinis alitibusque iaces, nec te, tua funera mater produxi pressive oculos aut volnera lavi, veste tegens, tibi quam noctes festina diesque urgebam et tela curas solabar anilis. Quo sequar, aut quae nunc artus avolsaque membra et funus lacerum tellus habet? Hoc mihi de te, nate, refers? Hoc sum terraque marique secuta? Figite me, siqua est pietas, in me omnia tela conicite, o Rutuli, me primam absumite ferro: aut tu, magne pater divom, miserere tuoque
invisum hoc detrude caput sub Tartara telo, quando aliter nequeo crudelem abrumpere vitam. Hoc fletu concussi animi, maestusque per omnis it gemitus: torpent infractae ad proelia vires. Illam incendentem luctus Idaeus et Actor Illionei monitu et multum lacrimantis Iuli corripiunt interque manus sub tecta reponunt. At tuba terribilem sonitum procul aere canoro increpuit; sequitur clamor caelumque remugit. Adcelerant acta pariter testudine Volsci et fossas implere parant ac vellere vallum. Quaerunt pars aditum et scalis ascendere muros,
qua rara est acies interlucetque corona non tam spissa viris. Telorum effundere contra omne genus Teucri ac duris detrudere contis, adsueti longo muros defendere bello. Saxa quoque infesto volvebant pondere, siqua possent tectam aciem perrumpere: cum tamen omnis ferre iuvat subter densa testudine casus; nec iam sufficiunt. Nam qua globus imminet ingens, immanem Teucri molem volvuntque ruuntque, quae stravit Rutulos late armorumque resolvit tegmina. Nec curant caeco contendere Marte amplius audaces Rutuli, sed pellere vallo
missilibus certant. Parte alia horrendus visu quassabat Etruscam pinum et fumiferos infert Mezentius ignis; at Messapus equum domitor, Neptunia proles, rescindit vallum et scalas in moenia poscit. Vos, o Calliope, precor, adspirate canenti, quas ibi tum ferro strages, quae funera Turnus ediderit, quem quisque virum demiserit Orco; et mecum ingentis oras evolvite belli, Turris erat vasto suspectu et pontibus altis, opportuna loco, summis quam viribus omnes expugnare Itali summaque evertere opum vi
certabant, Troes contra defendere saxis perque cavas densi tela intorquere fenestras. Princeps ardentem coniecit lampada Turnus et flammam adfixit lateri, quae plurima vento corripuit tabulas et postibus haesit adesis. Turbati trepidare intus frustraque malorum velle fugam. Dum se glomerant retroque residunt in partem, quae peste caret, tum pondere turris procubuit subito et caelum tonat omne fragore. Semineces ad terram, immani mole secuta, confixique suis telis et pectora duro transfossi ligno veniunt. Vix unus Helenor
et Lycus elapsi. Quorum primaevus Helenor, Maeonio regi quem serva Licymnia furtim sustulerat vetitisque ad Troiam miserat armis, ense levis nudo parmaque inglorius alba; isque ubi se Turni media inter milia vidit, hinc acies atque hinc acies adstare Latinas: ut fera, quae densa venantum saepta corona contra tela furit seseque haud nescia morti inicit et saltu supra venabula fertur, haud aliter iuvenis medios moriturus in hostis inruit et, qua tela videt densissima, tendit. At pedibus longe melior Lycus inter et hostis
inter et arma fuga muros tenet altaque certat prendere tecta manu sociumque attingere dextras. Quem Turnus, pariter cursu teloque secutus, increpat his victor: Nostrasne evadere, demens, sperasti te posse manus? Simul adripit ipsum pendentem et magna muri cum parte revellit. Qualis ubi aut leporem aut candenti corpore cycnum sustulit alta petens pedibus Iovis armiger uncis quaesitum aut matri multis balatibus agnum Martius a stabulis rapuit lupus. Undique clamor tollitur: invadunt et fossas agere complent; ardentis taedas alii ad fastigia iactant.
Ilioneus saxo atque ingenti fragmine montis Lucetium portae subeuntem ignisque ferentem, Emathiona Liger, Corynaeum sternit Asilas, hic iaculo bonus, hic longe fallente sagitta, Ortygium Caeneus, victorem Caenea Turnus, Turnus Ityn Cloniumque, Dioxippum Promolumque et Sagarim et summis stantem pro turribus Idan, Privernum Capys. Hunc primo levis hasta Themillae strinxerat: ille manum proiecto tegmine demens ad volnus tulit; ergo alis adlapsa sagitta et laevo infixa est lateri manus abditaque intus spiramenta animae letali volnere rupit.
Stabat in egregiis Arcentis filius armis, pictus acu chlamydem et ferrugine clarus Hibera, insignis facie, genitor quem miserat Arcens, eductum Matris luco Symaethia circum flumina, pinguis ubi et placabilis ara Palici: stridentem fundam positis Mezentius hastis ipse ter adducta circum caput egit habena et media adversi liquefacto tempora plumbo diffidit ac multa porrectum extendit harena. Tum primum bello celerem intendisse sagittam dicitur ante feras solitus terrere fugaces Ascanius fortemque manu fudisse Numanum,
cui Remulo cognomen erat, Turnique minorem germanam nuper thalamo sociatus habebat. Is primam ante aciem digna atque indigna relatu vociferans tumidusque novo praecordia regno ibat et ingentem sese clamore ferebat: Non pudet obsidione iterum valloque teneri, bis capti Phryges, et morti praetendere muros? En qui nostra sibi bello conubia poscunt! Quis deus Italiam, quae vos dementia adegit Non hic Atridae nec fandi fictor Ulixes: durum a stirpe genus natos ad flumina primum deferimus saevoque gelu duramus et undis,
venatu invigilant pueri silvasque fatigant, flectere ludus equos et spicula tendere cornu. At patiens operum parvoque adsueta iuventus aut rastris terram domat aut quatit oppida bello. Omne aevum ferro teritur, versaque iuvencum terga fatigamus hasta; nec tarda senectus debilitat vires animi mutatque vigorem: canitiem galea premimus, semperque recentis comportare iuvat praedas et vivere rapto. Vobis picta croco et fulgenti murice vestis, desidiae cordi, iuvat indulgere choreis, et tunicae manicas et habent redimicula mitrae.
O vere Phrygiae, neque enim Phryges, ite per alta Dindyma ubi adsuetis biforem dat tibia cantum! Tympana vos buxusque vocat Berecyntia Matris Idaeae sinite arma viris et cedite ferro. Talia iactantem dictis ac dira canentem non tulit Ascanius nervoque obversus equino contendit telum diversaque bracchia ducens constitit, ante Iovem supplex per vota precatus: Iuppiter omnipotens, audacibus adnue coeptis. Ipse tibi ad tua templa feram sollemnia dona et statuam ante aras aurata fronte iuvencum candentem pariterque caput cum matre ferentem,
iam cornu petat et pedibus qui spargat harenam. Audiit et caeli Genitor de parte serena intonuit laevum, sonat una fatifer arcus: effugit horrendum stridens adducta sagitta perque caput Remuli venit et cava tempora ferro traicit. I, verbis virtutem inlude superbis! His capti Phryges haec Rutulis responsa remittunt. Hoc tantum Ascanius. Teucri clamore sequuntur laetitiaque fremunt animosque ad sidera tollunt. Aetheria tum forte plaga crinitus Apollo desuper Ausonias acies urbemque videbat, nube sedens, atque his victorem adfatur Iulum:
Macte nova virtute, puer: sic itur ad astra, dis genite et geniture deos. Iure omnia bella gente sub Assaraci fato ventura resident, nec te Troia capit. Simul haec effatus ab alto aethere se misit, spirantis dimovet auras Ascaniumque petit. Forma tum vertitur oris antiquum in Buten; hic Dardanio Anchisae armiger ante fuit fidusque ad limina custos, tum comitem Ascanio pater addidit. Ibat Apollo omnia longaevo similis, vocemque coloremque et crinis albos et saeva sonoribus arma, atque his ardentem dictis adfatur Iulum:
Sit satis, Aenide, telis impune Numanum oppetiisse tuis; primam hanc tibi magnus, Apollo concedit laudem et paribus non invidet armis: cetera parce, puer, bello. Sic orsus Apollo mortalis medio aspectus sermone reliquit et procul in tenuem ex oculis evanuit auram. Agnovere deum proceres divinaque tela Dardanidae pharetramque fuga sensere sonantem. Ergo avidum pugnae dictis ac numine Phoebi Ascanium prohibent, ipsi in certamina rursus succedunt animasque in aperta pericula mittunt. It clamor totis per propugnacula muris,
intendunt acris arcus amentaque torquent. Sternitur omne solum telis, tum scuta cavaeque dant sonitum flictu galeae, pugna aspera surgit: quantus ab occasu veniens pluvialibus Haedis verberat imber humum, quam multa grandine nimbi in vada praecipitant, cum Iuppiter horridus austris torquet aquosam hiemem et caelo cava nubila rumpit. Pandarus et Bitias, Idaeo Alcanore creti, quos Iovis eduxit luco silvestris Iaera abietibus iuvenes patriis et montibus aequos, portam, quae ducis imperio commissa, recludunt, freti animis, ultroque invitant moenibus hostem.
Ipsi intus dextra ac laeva pro turribus adstant, armati ferro et cristis capita alta corusci: quales aëriae liquentia flumina circum, sive Padi ripis Athesim seu propter amoenum, consurgunt geminae quercus intonsaque caelo attollunt capita et sublimi vertice nutant. inrumpunt aditus Rutuli ut videre patentis continuo Quercens et pulcher Aquiculus armis et praeceps animi Tmarus et Mavortius Haemon agminibus totis: at versi terga dedere aut ipso portae posuere in limine vitam. Tum magis increscunt animis discordibus irae;
et iam collecti Troes glomerantur eodem et conferre manum et procurrere longius audent. Ductori Turno diversa in parte furenti turbantique viros perfertur nuntius, hostem fervere caede nova et portas praebere patentis. Deserit inceptum atque immani concitus ira Dardaniam ruit ad portam fratresque superbos. Et primum Antiphaten, is enim se primus agebat, Thebana de matre nothum Sarpedonis alti, coniecto sternit iaculo; volat Itala cornus aëra per tenerum stomachoque infixa sub altum pectus abit: reddit specus atri volneris undam
spumantem, et fixo ferrum in pulmone tepescit. Tum Meropem atque Erymanta manu, tum sternit Aphidnum, tum Bitian ardentem oculis animisque frementem non iaculo, neque enim iaculo vitam ille dedisset, sed magnum stridens contorta phalarica venit, fulminis acta modo, quam nec duo taurea terga nec duplici squama lorica fidelis et auro sustinuit: conlapsa ruunt immania membra. Dat tellus gemitum, et clipeum super intonat ingens. Talis in Euboico Baiarum litore quondam saxea pila cadit, magnis quam molibus ante constructam ponto iaciunt; sic illa ruinam
prona trahit penitusque vadis inlisa recumbit: miscent se maria, et nigrae attolluntur harenae; tum sonitu Prochyta alta tremit durumque cubile Inarime Iovis imperiis imposta Typhoeo. Hic Mars armipotens animum viresque Latinis addidit et stimulos acris sub pectore vertit immisitque Fugam Teucris atrumque Timorem. Undique conveniunt, quoniam data copia pugnae bellatorque animo deus incidit. Pandarus ut fuso germanum corpore cernit et quo sit fortuna loco, qui casus agat res, portam vi magna converso cardine torquet,
obnixus latis umeris, multosque suorum moenibus exclusos duro in certamine linquit; ast alios secum includit recipitque ruentis, demens, qui Rutulum in medio non agmine regem viderit inrumpentem ultroque incluserit urbi, immanem veluti pecora inter inertia tigrim. Continuo nova lux oculis effulsit, et arma horrendum sonuere; tremunt in vertice cristae sanguineae, clipeoque micantia fulmina mittit: agnoscunt faciem invisam atque immania membra turbati subito Aeneadae. Tum Pandarus ingens emicat et mortis fraternae fervidus ira
effatur: Non haec dotalis regia Amatae, nec muris cohibet patriis media Ardea Turnum. Castra inimica vides; nulla hinc exire potestas. Olli subridens sedato pectore Turnus: Incipe, siqua animo virtus, et consere dextram: hic etiam inventum Priamo narrabis Achillem. Dixerat. Ille rudem nodis et cortice crudo intorquet summis adnixus viribus hastam: excepere aurae volnus; Saturnia Iuno detorsit veniens, portaeque infigitur hasta. At non hoc telum, mea quod vi dextera versat, effugies; neque enim is teli nec volneris auctor.
Sic ait et sublatum alte consurgit in ensem et mediam ferro gemina inter tempora frontem dividit inpubesque immani volnere malas. Fit sonus, ingenti concussa est pondere tellus: conlapsos artus atque arma cruenta cerebro sternit humi moriens, atque illi partibus aequis huc caput atque illuc umero ex utroque pependit. Diffugiunt versi trepida formidine Troes: et si continuo victorem ea cura subisset, rumpere claustra manu sociosque immittere portis, ultimus ille dies bello gentique fuisset; sed furor ardentem caedisque insana cupido
egit in adversos. Principio Phalerim et succiso poplite Gygen excipit; hinc raptas fugientibus ingerit hastas in tergum, Iuno vires animumque ministrat; addit Halym comitem et confixa Phegea parma, ignaros deinde in muris Martemque cientis Alcandrumque Haliumque Noemonaque Prytanimque. Lyncea tendentem contra sociosque vocantem vibranti gladio conixus ab aggere dexter occupat; huic uno desectum comminus ictu cum galea longe iacuit caput. Inde ferarum vastatorem Amycum, quo non felicior alter
ungere tela manu ferrumque armare veneno, et Clytium Aeoliden et amicum Crethea Musis, Crethea Musarum comitem, cui carmina semper et citharae cordi numerosque intendere nervis. Tandem ductores audita caede suorum conveniunt Teucri, Mnestheus acerque Serestus, palantisque vident socios hostemque receptum. Et Mnestheus: Quo deinde fugam, quo tenditis? inquit. Quos alios muros, quae iam ultra moenia habetis? Unus homo et vestris, o cives, undique saeptus aggeribus tantas strages inpune per urbem ediderit, iuvenum primos tot miserit Orco?
Non infelicis patriae veterumque deorum et magni Aeneae, segnes, miseretque pudetque? Talibus accensi firmantur et agmine denso consistunt. Turnus paulatim excedere pugna et fluvium petere ac partem, quae cingitur unda; acrius hoc Teucri clamore incumbere magno et glomerare manum. Ceu saevum turba leonem cum telis premit infensis, at territus ille, asper, acerba tuens, retro redit, et neque terga ira dare aut virtus patitur, nec tendere contra ille quidem hoc cupiens potis est per tela virosque: haud aliter retro dubius vestigia Turnus
improperata refert, et mens exaestuat ira. Quin etiam bis tum medios invaserat hostis, bis confusa fuga per muros agmina vertit; sed manus e castris propere coit omnis in unum, nec contra vires audet Saturnia Iuno sufficere, aëriam caelo nam Iuppiter Irim demisit germanae haud mollia iussa ferentem, ni Turnus cedat Teucrorum moenibus altis. Ergo nec clipeo iuvenis subsistere tantum nec dextra valet: iniectis sic undique telis obruitur. Strepit adsiduo cava tempora circum tinnitu galea, et saxis solida aera fatiscunt,
discussaeque iubae capiti, nec sufficit umbo ictibus: ingeminant hastis et Troes et ipse fulmineus Mnestheus. Tum toto corpore sudor liquitur et piceum, nec respirare potestas, flumen agit; fessos quatit aeger anhelitus artus. Tum demum praeceps saltu sese omnibus armis in fluvium dedit: ille suo cum gurgite flavo accepit venientem ac mollibus extulit undis et laetum sociis abluta caede remisit.
Book 10
Panditur interea domus omnipotentis Olympi, conciliumque vocat divom pater atque hominum rex sideream in sedem, terras unde arduus omnis castraque Dardanidum adspectat populosque Latinos. Considunt tectis bipatentibus, incipit ipse: Caelicolae magni, quianam sententia vobis versa retro tantumque animis certatis iniquis? Abnueram bello Italiam concurrere Teucris. Quae contra vetitum discordia? Quis metus aut hos aut hos arma sequi ferrumque lacessere suasit? Adveniet iustum pugnae, ne arcessite, tempus, cum fera Karthago Romanis arcibus olim
exitium magnum atque Alpes immittet apertas: tum certare odiis, tum res rapuisse licebit. Nunc sinite et placitum laeti componite foedus. Iuppiter haec paucis; at non Venus aurea contra pauca refert: O pater, O hominum rerumque aeterna potestas! Namque aliud quid sit, quod iam implorare queamus? Cernis ut insultent Rutulli Turnusque secundo Marte ruat? Non clausa tegunt iam moenia Teucros: quin intra portas atque ipsis proelia miscent aggeribus moerorum et inundant sanguine fossas.
Aeneas ignarus abest. Numquamne levari obsidione sines? Muris iterum imminet hostis nascentis Troiae atque iterum in Teucros Aetolis surgit ab Arpis Tydides. Equidem credo, mea volnera restant et tua progenies mortalia demoror arma. Si sine pace tua atque invito numine Troes Italiam petiere, luant peccata neque illos iuveris auxilio; sin tot responsa secuti, quae superi manesque dabant: cur nunc tua quisquam vertere iussa potest aut cur nova condere fata? Quid repetem exustas Erycino in litore classes,
quid tempestatum regem ventosque furentis Aeolia excitos aut actam nubibus Irim? Nunc etiam manis, haec intemptata manebat sors rerum, movet et superis immissa repente Allecto, medias Italum bacchata per urbes. Nil super imperio moveor: speravimus ista, dum fortuna fuit; vincant quos vincere mavis. Si nulla est regio, Teucris quam det tua coniunx dura, per eversae, genitor, fumantia Troiae exscidia obtestor, liceat dimittere ab armis incolumem Ascanium, liceat superesse nepotem. Aeneas sane ignotis iactetur in undis
et, quamcumque viam dederit Fortuna, sequatur: hunc tegere et dirae valeam subducere pugnae. Est Amathus, est celsa mihi Paphus atque Cythera Idaliaeque domus: positis inglorius armis exigat hic aevum. Magna dicione iubeto Karthago premat Ausoniam: nihil urbibus inde obstabit Tyriis. Quid pestem evadere belli iuvit et Argolicos medium fugisse per ignes totque maris vastaeque exhausta pericula terrae, dum Latium Teucri recidivaque Pergama quaerunt? Non satius cineres patriae insedisse supremos atque solum, quo Troia fuit? Xanthum et Simoenta
redde, oro, miseris iterumque revolvere casus da, pater, Iliacos Teucris. Tum regia Iuno acta furore gravi: Quid me alta silentia cogis rumpere et obductum verbis volgare dolorem? Aenean hominum quisquam divomque subegit bella sequi aut hostem regi se inferre Latino? Italiam petiit fatis auctoribus, esto, Cassandrae inpulsus furiis: num linquere castra hortati sumus aut vitam committere ventis? Num puero summam belli, num credere muros Tyrrhenamque fidem, aut gentis agitare quietas?
Quis deus in fraudem, quae dura potentia nostra egit? Ubi hic Iuno demissave nubibus Iris? Indignum est Italos Troiam circumdare flammis nascentem et patria Turnum consistere terra, cui Pilumnus avus, cui diva Venilia mater: quid face Troianos atra vim ferre Latinis, arva aliena iugo premere atque avertere praedas? Quid soceros legere et gremiis abducere pactas, pacem orare manu, praefigere puppibus arma? Tu potes Aenean manibus subducere Graium proque viro nebulam et ventos obtendere inanis, tu potes in totidem classem convertere nymphas:
nos aliquid Rutulos contra iuvisse nefandum est? Aeneas ignarus abest: ignarus et absit. Est Paphus Idaliumque tibi, sunt alta Cythera: quid gravidam bellis urbem et corda aspera temptas? Nosne tibi fluxas Phrygiae res vertere fundo conamur, nos, an miseros qui Troas Achivis obiecit? Quae causa fuit, consurgere in arma Europamque Asiamque et foedera solvere furto? Me duce Dardanius Spartam expugnavit adulter, aut ego tela dedi fovive cupidine bella? Tum decuit metuisse tuis: nunc sera querelis haud iustis adsurgis et inrita iurgia iactas.
Talibus orabat Iuno, cunctique fremebant caelicolae adsensu vario, ceu flamina prima cum deprensa fremunt silvis et caeca volutant murmura, venturos nautis prodentia ventos. Tum pater omnipotens, rerum cui prima potestas, infit; eo dicente deum domus alta silescit et tremefacta solo tellus, silet arduus aether, tum Zephyri posuere, premit placida aequora pontus: Accipite ergo animis atque haec mea figite dicta. Quandoquidem Ausonios coniungi foedere Teucris haud licitum, nec vestra capit discordia finem: quae cuique est fortuna hodie, quam quisque secat spem,
Tros Rutulusne fuat nullo discrimine habebo. Seu fatis Italum castra obsidione tenentur sive errore malo Troiae monitisque sinistris. Nec Rutulos solvo: sua cuique exorsa laborem fortunamque ferent. Rex Iuppiter omnibus idem. Fata viam invenient. Stygii per flumina fratris, per pice torrentis atraque voragine ripas adnuit et totum nutu tremefecit Olympum. Hic finis fandi. Solio tum Iuppiter aureo surgit, caelicolae medium quem ad limina ducunt. Interea Rutuli portis circum omnibus instant sternere caede viros et moenia cingere flammis.
At legio Aeneadum vallis obsessa tenetur, nec spes ulla fugae. Miseri stant turribus altis nequiquam et rara muros cinxere corona Asius Imbrasides Hicetaoniusque Thymoetes Assaracique duo et senior cum Castore Thymbris, prima acies; hos germani Sarpedonis ambo et Clarus et Thaemon Lycia comitantur ab alta. Fert ingens toto conixus corpore saxum, haud partem exiguam montis, Lyrnesius Acmon, nec Clytio genitore minor nec fratre Menestheo. Hi iaculis, illi certant defendere saxis molirique ignem nervoque aptare sagittas.
Ipse inter medios, Veneris iustissima cura, Dardanius caput ecce puer detectus honestum, qualis gemma micat, fulvum quae dividit aurum, aut collo decus aut capiti; vel quale per artem inclusum buxo aut Oricia terebintho lucet ebur; fusos cervix cui lactea crinis accipit et molli subnectens circulus auro. Te quoque magnanimae viderunt, Ismare, gentes volnera dirigere et calamos armare veneno, Maeonia generose domo, ubi pinguia culta exercentque viri Pactolusque inrigat auro. Adfuit et Mnestheus, quem pulsi pristina Turni
aggere moerorum sublimem gloria tollit, et Capys: hinc nomen Campanae ducitur urbi. Illi inter sese duri certamina belli contulerant: media Aeneas freta nocte secabat. Namque ut ab Euandro castris ingressus Etruscis regem adit et regi memorat nomenque genusque, quidve petat quidve ipse ferat, Mezentius arma quae sibi conciliet, violentaque pectora Turni edocet, humanis quae sit fiducia rebus admonet immiscetque preces: haud fit mora, Tarchon iungit opes foedusque ferit; tum libera fati classem conscendit iussis gens Lydia divom,
externo commissa duci. Aeneia puppis prima tenet, rostro Phrygios subiuncta leones, imminet Ida super, profugis gratissima Teucris. Hic magnus sedet Aeneas secumque volutat eventus belli varios, Pallasque sinistro adfixus lateri iam quaerit sidera, opacae noctis iter, iam quae passus terraque marique. Pandite nunc Helicona, deae, cantusque movete, quae manus interea Tuscis comitetur ab oris Aenean armetque rates pelagoque vehatur. Massicus aerata princeps secat aequora tigri: sub quo mille manus iuvenum, qui moenia Clusi
quique urbem liquere Cosas, quis tela sagittae gorytique leves umeris et letifer arcus. Una torvus Abas: huic totum insignibus armis agmen et aurato fulgebat Apolline puppis. Sescentos illi dederat Populonia mater expertos belli iuvenes, ast Ilva trecentos insula inexhaustis Chalybum generosa metallis. Tertius ille hominum divomque interpres Asilas, cui pecudum fibrae, caeli cui sidera parent et linguae volucrum et praesagi fulminis ignes, mille rapit densos acie atque horrentibus hastis. Hos parere iubent Alpheae ab origine Pisae,
urbs Etrusca solo. Sequitur pulcherrimus Astur, Astur equo fidens et versicoloribus armis. Tercentum adiciunt (mens omnibus una sequendi) qui Caerete domo, qui sunt Minionis in arvis, et Pyrgi veteres intempestaeque Graviscae. Non ego te, Ligurum ductor fortissime bello, transierim, Cinyre, et paucis comitate Cupavo, cuius olorinae surgunt de vertice pennae, crimen, Amor, vestrum formaeque insigne paternae. Namque ferunt luctu Cycnum Phaethontis amati, populeas inter frondes umbramque sororum dum canit et maestum Musa solatur amorem,
canentem molli pluma duxisse senectam, linquentem terras et sidera voce sequentem. Filius, aequalis comitatus classe catervas, ingentem remis Centaurum promovet: ille instat aquae saxumque undis immane minatur arduus et longa sulcat maria alta carina. Ille etiam patriis agmen ciet Ocnus ab oris, fatidicae Mantus et Tusci filius amnis, qui muros matrisque dedit tibi, Mantua, nomen, Mantua, dives avis; sed non genus omnibus unum: gens illi triplex, populi sub gente quaterni, ipsa caput populis, Tusco de sanguine vires.
Hinc quoque quingentos in se Mezentius armat, quos patre Benaco velatus harundine glauca Mincius infesta ducebat in aequora pinu. It gravis Aulestes centenaque arbore fluctum verberat adsurgens, spumant vada marmore verso. Hunc vehit immanis Triton et caerula concha exterrens freta, cui laterum tenus hispida nanti frons hominem praefert, in pristim desinit alvus: spumea semifero sub pectore murmurat unda. Tot lecti proceres ter denis navibus ibant subsidio Troiae et campos salis aera secabant. Iamque dies caelo concesserat almaque curru
noctivago Phoebe medium pulsabat Olympum: Aeneas (neque enim membris dat cura quietem) ipse sedens clavumque regit velisque ministrat. Atque illi medio in spatio chorus ecce suarum occurrit comitum: nymphae, quas alma Cybebe numen habere maris nymphasque e navibus esse iusserat, innabant pariter fluctusque secabant, quot prius aeratae steterant ad litora prorae. Agnoscunt longe regem lustrantque choreis, quarum quae fandi doctissima Cymodocea pone sequens dextra puppim tenet ipsaque dorso eminet ac laeva tacitis subremigat undis,
tum sic ignarum adloquitur: Vigilasne, deum gens, Aenea? Vigila et velis immitte rudentis. Nos sumus, Idaeae sacro de vertice pinus, nunc pelagi nymphae, classis tua. Perfidus ut nos praecipitis ferro Rutulus flammaque premebat, rupimus invitae tua vincula teque per aequor quaerimus. Hanc Genetrix faciem miserata refecit et dedit esse deas aevumque agitare sub undis. At puer Ascanius muro fossisque tenetur tela inter media atque horrentis Marte Latinos. Iam loca iussa tenent forti permixtus Etrusco Arcas eques: medias illis opponere turmas,
ne castris iungant, certast sententia Turno. Surge age et Aurora socios veniente vocari primus in arma iube et clipeum cape, quem dedit ipse invictum Ignipotens atque oras ambiit auro. Crastina lux, mea si non inrita dicta putaris, ingentis Rutulae spectabit caedis acervos. Dixerat, et dextra discedens impulit altam haud ignara modi puppim: fugit illa per undas ocior et iaculo et ventos aequante sagitta. Inde aliae celerant cursus. Stupet inscius ipse Tros Anchisiades; animos tamen omine tollit. Tum breviter super adspectans convexa precatur:
Alma parens Idaea deum, cui Dindyma cordi turrigeraeque urbis biiugique ad frena leones, tu mihi nunc pugnae princeps, tu rite propinques augurium Phrygibusque adsis pede, diva, secundo. Tantum effatus. Et interea revoluta rubebat matura iam luce dies noctemque fugarat: principio sociis edicit, signa sequantur atque animos aptent armis pugnaeque parent se. Iamque in conspectu Teucros habet et sua castra, stans celsa in puppi; clipeum cum deinde sinistra extulit ardentem. Clamorem ad sidera tollunt Dardanidae e muris, spes addita suscitat iras,
tela manu iaciunt: quales sub nubibus atris Strymoniae dant signa grues atque aethera tranant cum sonitu fugiuntque notos clamore secundo. At Rutulo regi ducibusque ea mira videri Ausoniis, donec versas ad litora puppes respiciunt totumque adlabi classibus aequor. Ardet apex capiti cristisque a vertice flamma funditur et vastos umbo vomit aureus ignes: non secus ac liquida siquando nocte cometae sanguinei lugubre rubent aut Sirius ardor, ille sitim morbosque ferens mortalibus aegris, nascitur et laevo contristat lumine caelum.
Haud tamen audaci Turno fiducia cessit litora praecipere et venientis pellere terra. Quod votis optastis, adest, perfringere dextra; in manibus Mars ipse viris. Nunc coniugis esto quisque suae tectique memor, nunc magna referto facta, patrum laudes. Ultro occurramus ad undam, dum trepidi egressisque labant vestigia prima. Audentis Fortuna iuvat, haec ait et secum versat, quos ducere contra vel quibus obsessos possit concredere muros. Interea Aeneas socios de puppibus altis pontibus exponit. Multi servare recursus
languentis pelagi et brevibus se credere saltu, per remos alii. Speculatus litora Tarchon, qua vada non sperat nec fracta remurmurat unda, sed mare inoffensum crescenti adlabitur aestu, advertit subito proram sociosque precatur: Nunc, o lecta manus, validis incumbite remis; tollite, ferte rates; inimicam findite rostris hanc terram, sulcumque sibi premat ipsa carina. Frangere nec tali puppim statione recuso arrepta tellure semel. Quae talia postquam effatus Tarchon, socii consurgere tonsis spumantisque rates arvis inferre Latinis,
donec rostra tenent siccum et sedere carinae omnes innocuae, sed non puppis tua, Tarchon. Namque inflicta vadis dorso dum pendet iniquo, anceps sustentata diu fluctusque fatigat, solvitur atque viros mediis exponit in undis fragmina remorum quos et fluitantia transtra impediunt, retrahitque pedem simul unda relabens. Nec Turnum segnis retinet mora, sed rapit acer totam aciem in Teucros et contra in litore sistit. Signa canunt. Primus turmas invasit agrestis Aeneas, omen pugnae, stravitque Latinos occiso Therone, virum qui maximus ultro
Aenean petit: huic gladio perque aerea suta, per tunicam squalentem auro latus haurit apertum. Inde Lichan ferit, exsectum iam matre perempta et tibi, Phoebe, sacrum: casus evadere ferri quo licuit parvo? Nec longe Cissea durum immanemque Gyan, sternentis agmina clava, deiecit Leto: nihil illos Herculis arma nec validae iuvere manus genitorque Melampus, Alcidae comes usque gravis dum terra labores praebuit. Ecce Pharo, voces dum iactat inertis, intorquens iaculum clamanti sistit in ore. Tu quoque, flaventem prima lanugine malas
dum sequeris Clytium infelix, nova gaudia, Cydon, Dardania stratus dextra, securus amorum, qui iuvenum tibi semper erant, miserande iaceres, ni fratrum stipata cohors foret obvia, Phorci progenies, septem numero, septenaque tela coniciunt; partim galea clipeoque resultant inrita, deflexit partim stringentia corpus alma Venus. Fidum Aeneas adfatur Achaten: Suggere tela mihi: non ullum dextera frustra torserit in Rutulos, steterunt quae in corpore Graium Iliacis campis. Tum magnam corripit hastam et iacit: illa volans clipei transverberat aera
Maeonis et thoraca simul cum pectore rumpit. Huic frater subit Alcanor fratremque ruentem sustentat dextra: traiecto missa lacerto protinus hasta fugit servatque cruenta tenorem, dexteraque ex umero nervis moribunda pependit. Tum Numitor iaculo fratris de corpore rapto Aenean petiit; sed non et figere contra est licitum, magnique femur perstrinxit Achatae. Hic Curibus fidens primaevo corpore Clausus advenit et rigida Dryopem ferit eminus hasta sub mentum graviter pressa pariterque loquentis vocem animamque rapit traiecto gutture; at ille
fronte ferit terram et crassum vomit ore cruorem. Tres quoque Threicios Boreae de gente suprema et tris, quos Idas pater et patria Ismara mittit, per varios sternit casus. Accurrit Halaesus Auruncaeque manus, subit et Neptunia proles, insignis Messapus equis. Expellere tendunt nunc hi, nunc illi; certatur limine in ipso Ausoniae. Magno discordes aethere venti proelia ceu tollunt animis et viribus aequis; non ipsi inter se, non nubila, non mare cedit; anceps pugna diu, stant obnixa omnia contra: haud aliter Troianae acies aciesque Latinae
concurrunt; haeret pede pes densusque viro vir. At parte ex alia, qua saxa rotantia late impulerat torrens arbustaque diruta ripis, Arcadas insuetos acies inferre pedestris ut vidit Pallas Latio dare terga sequaci (aspera quis natura loci dimittere quando suasit equos), unum quod rebus restat egenis, nunc prece, nunc dictis virtutem accendit amaris: Quo fugitis, socii? Per vos et fortia facta, per ducis Evandri nomen devictaque bella Opemque meam, patriae quae nunc subit aemula laudi, fidite ne pedibus. Ferro rumpenda per hostis
est via. Qua globus ille virum densissimus urget, hac vos et Pallanta ducem patria alta reposcit. Numina nulla premunt, mortali urgemur ab hoste mortales, totidem nobis animaeque manusque. Ecce, maris magna claudit nos obice pontus, deest iam terra fugae: pelagus Troiamne petemus? Haec ait et medius densos prorumpit in hostis. Obvius huic primum, fatis adductus iniquis, fit Lagus. Hunc, magno vellit dum pondere saxum, intorto figit telo, discrimina costis per medium qua spina dabat, hastamque receptat ossibus haerentem. Quem non super occupat Hisbo,
ille quidem hoc sperans: nam Pallas ante ruentem, dum furit, incautum crudeli morte sodalis excipit atque ensem tumido in pulmone recondit. Hinc Sthenium petit et Rhoeti de gente vetusta Anchemolum, thalamos ausum incestare novercae. Vos etiam, gemini, Rutulis cecidistis in agris, Daucia, Laride Thymberque, simillima proles, indiscreta suis gratusque parentibus error; at nunc dura dedit vobis discrimina Pallas: nam tibi, Thymbre, caput Evandrius abstulit ensis; te decisa suum, Laride, dextera quaerit semianimesque micant digiti ferrumque retractant.
Arcadas accensos monitu et praeclara tuentis facta viri mixtus dolor et pudor armat in hostis. Tum Pallas biiugis fugientem Rhoetea praeter traicit. Hoc spatium tantumque morae fuit Ilo; Ilo namque procul validam direxerat hastam, quam medius Rhoeteus intercipit, optime Teuthra, te fugiens fratremque Tyren, curruque volutus caedit semianimis Rutulorum calcibus arva. Ac velut optato ventis aestate coortis dispersa immittit silvis incendia pastor, correptis subito mediis extenditur una horrida per latos acies Volcania campos;
ille sedens victor flammas despectat ovantis: non aliter socium virtus coit omnis in unum teque iuvat, Palla. Sed bellis acer Halaesus tendit in adversos seque in sua conligit arma. Hic mactat Ladona Pheretaque Demodocumque, Strymonio dextram fulgenti deripit ense elatam in iugulum, saxo ferit ora Thoantis ossaque dispersit cerebro permixta cruento. Fata canens silvis genitor celarat Halaesum: ut senior leto canentia lumina solvit, iniecere manum Parcae telisque sacrarunt Evandri. Quem sic Pallas petit ante precatus:
Da nunc, Thybri pater, ferro, quod missile libro, fortunam atque viam duri per pectus Halaesi. Haec arma exuviasque viri tua quercus habebit. Audiit illa deus: dum texit Imaona Halaesus, Arcadio infelix telo dat pectus inermum. At non caede viri tanta perterrita Lausus, pars ingens belli, sinit agmina: primus Abantem oppositum interimit, pugnae nodumque moramque. Sternitur Arcadiae proles, sternuntur Etrusci et vos, O Grais imperdita corpora, Teucri. Agmina concurrunt ducibusque et viribus aequis. Extremi addensent acies nec turba moveri
tela manusque sinit. Hinc Pallas instat et urget, hinc contra Lausus, nec multum discrepat aetas: egregii forma, sed quis Fortuna negarat in patriam reditus. Ipsos concurrere passus haud tamen inter se magni regnator Olympi: mox illos sua fata manent maiore sub hoste. Interea soror alma monet succedere Lauso Turnum, qui volucri curru medium secat agmen. Ut vidit socios: Tempus desistere pugnae; solus ego in Pallanta feror, soli mihi Pallas debetur; cuperem ipse parens spectator adesset. Haec ait, et socii cesserunt aequore iusso.
At Rutulum abscessu iuvenis tum iussa superba miratus stupet in Turno corpusque per ingens lumina volvit obitque truci procul omnia visu talibus et dictis it contra dicta tyranni: Aut spoliis ego iam raptis laudabor opimis aut leto insigni: sorti pater aequus utrique est. Tolle minas. Fatus medium procedit in aequor. Frigidus Arcadibus coit in praecordia sanguis. Desiluit Turnus biiugis, pedes apparat ire comminus; utque leo, specula cum vidit ab alta stare procul campis meditantem in proelia taurum, advolat: haud alia est Turni venientis imago.
Hunc ubi contiguum missae fore credidit hastae, ire prior Pallas, siqua fors adiuvet ausum viribus imparibus, magnumque ita ad aethera fatur: Per patris hospitium et mensas, quas advena adisti, te precor, Alcide, coeptis ingentibus adsis. Cernat semineci sibi me rapere arma cruenta victoremque ferant morientia lumina Turni. Audiit Alcides iuvenem magnumque sub imo corde premit gemitum lacrimasque effundit inanis. Tum Genitor natum dictis adfatur amicis: Stat sua cuique dies, breve et inreparabile tempus omnibus est vitae: sed famam extendere factis,
hoc virtutis opus. Troiae sub moenibus altis tot nati cecidere deum; quin occidit una Sarpedon, mea progenies. Etiam sua Turnum fata vocant, metasque dati pervenit ad aevi. Sic ait atque oculos Rutulorum reicit arvis. At Pallas magnis emittit viribus hastam vaginaque cava fulgentem deripit ensem. Illa volans umeri surgunt qua tegmina summa incidit atque viam clipei molita per oras tandem etiam magno strinxit de corpore Turni. Hic Turnus ferro praefixum robur acuto in Pallanta diu librans iacit atque ita fatur:
Adspice, num mage sit nostrum penetrabile telum. Dixerat; at clipeum, tot ferri terga, tot aeris, quem pellis totiens obeat circumdata tauri, vibranti cuspis medium transverberat ictu loricaeque moras et pectus perforat ingens. Ille rapit calidum frustra de volnere telum: una eademque via sanguis animusque sequuntur. Corruit in volnus, sonitum super arma dedere et terram hostilem moriens petit ore cruento. Quem Turnus super adsistens, Arcades, haec, inquit, memores mea dicta referte Euandro; qualem meruit, Pallanta remitto.
Quisquis honos tumuli, quidquid solamen humandi est, largior. Haud illi stabunt Aeneia parvo hospitia. Et laevo pressit pede talia fatus exanimem, rapiens immania pondera baltei impressumque nefas, una sub nocte iugali caesa manus iuvenum foede thalamique cruenti, quae Clonus Eurytides multo caelaverat auro; quo nunc Turnus ovat spolio gaudetque potitus. Nescia mens hominum fati sortisque futurae et servare modum, rebus sublata secundis! Turno tempus erit, magno cum optaverit emptum intactum Pallanta et cum spolia ista diemque
oderit. At socii multo gemitu lacrimisque impositum scuto referunt Pallanta frequentes. O dolor atque decus magnum rediture parenti haec te prima dies bello dedit, haec eadem aufert, cum tamen ingentis Rutulorum linquis acervos. Nec iam fama mali tanti, sed certior auctor advolat Aeneae, tenui discrimine leti esse suos, versis tempus succurrere Teucris. Proxima quaeque metit gladio latumque per agmen ardens limitem agit ferro, te, Turne, superbum caede nova quaerens. Pallas, Euander, in ipsis omnia sunt oculis, mensae, quas advena primas
tunc adiit, dextraeque datae. Sulmone creatos quattuor hic iuvenes, totidem, quos educat Ufens, viventis rapit, inferias quos immolet umbris captivoque rogi perfundat sanguine flammas. Inde Mago procul infensam contenderat hastam. Ille astu subit ac tremibunda supervolat hasta, et genua amplectens effatur talia supplex: Per patrios manis et spes surgentis Iuli te precor, hanc animam serves natoque patrique. Est domus alta, iacent penitus defossa talenta caelati argenti, sunt auri pondera facti infectique mihi. Non hic victoria Teucrum
vertitur aut anima una dabit discrimina tanta. Dixerat. Aeneas contra cui talia reddit: Argenti atque auri memoras quae multa talenta, natis parce tuis. Belli commercia Turnus sustulit ista prior iam tum Pallante perempto. Hoc patris Anchisae manes, hoc sentit Iulus. Sic fatus galeam laeva tenet atque reflexa cervice orantis capulo tenus applicat ensem. Nec procul Haemonides, Phoebi Triviaeque sacerdos, infula cui sacra redimibat tempora vitta, totus conlucens veste atque insignibus armis. Quem congressus agit campo lapsumque superstans
immolat ingentique umbra tegit; arma Serestus lecta refert umeris, tibi, rex Gradive, tropaeum. Instaurant acies Volcani stirpe creatus Caeculus et veniens Marsorum montibus Umbro: Dardanides contra furit. Anxuris ense sinistram et totum clipei ferro deiecerat orbem; dixerat ille aliquid magnum vimque adfore verbo crediderat caeloque animum fortasse ferebat canitiemque sibi et longos promiserat annos: Tarquitus exultans contra fulgentibus armis, silvicolae Fauno Dryope quem nympha crearat, obvius ardenti sese obtulit. Ille reducta
loricam clipeique ingens onus impedit hasta; tum caput orantis nequiquam et multa parantis dicere deturbat terrae truncumque tepentem provolvens super haec inimico pectore fatur: Istic nunc, metuende, iace. Non te optima mater condet humi patrioque onerabit membra sepulchro: alitibus linquere feris aut gurgite mersum unda feret piscesque impasti volnera lambent. Protinus Antaeum et Lucam, prima agmina Turni, persequitur fortemque Numam fulvumque Camertem, magnanimo Volcente satum, ditissimus agri qui fuit Ausonidum et tacitis regnavit Amyclis.
Aegaeon qualis, centum cui bracchia dicunt centenasque manus, quinquaginta oribus ignem pectoribusque arsisse, Iovis cum fulmina contra tot paribus streperet clipeis, tot stringeret enses: sic toto Aeneas desaevit in aequore victor, ut semel intepuit mucro. Quin ecce Niphaei quadriiugis in equos adversaque pectora tendit. Atque illi longe gradientem et dira frementem ut videre, metu versi retroque ruentes effunduntque ducem rapiuntque ad litora currus. Interea biiugis infert se Lucagus albis in medios fraterque Liger; sed frater habenis
flectit equos, strictum rotat acer Lucagus ensem. Haud tulit Aeneas tanto fervore furentis: inruit adversaque ingens apparuit hasta. Cui Liger: Non Diomedis equos nec currum cernis Achillis aut Phrygiae campos: nunc belli finis et aevi his dabitur terris. Vesano talia late dicta volant Ligeri. Sed non et Troïus heros dicta parat contra: iaculum nam torquet in hostem. Lucagus ut pronus pendens in verbera telo admonuit biiugos, proiecto dum pede laevo aptet se pugnae, subit oras hasta per imas
fulgentis clipei, tum laevum perforat inguen: excussus curru moribundus volvitur arvis. Quem pius Aeneas dictis adfatur amaris: Lucage, nulla tuos currus fuga segnis equorum prodidit aut vanae vertere ex hostibus umbrae: ipse rotis saliens iuga deseris. Haec ita fatus arripuit biiugos; frater tendebat inertis infelix palmas, curru delapsus eodem: Per te, per qui te talem genuere parentes, vir Troiane, sine hanc animam et miserere precantis. Pluribus oranti Aeneas: Haud talia dudum dicta dabas. Morere et fratrem ne desere frater.
Tum latebras animae pectus mucrone recludit. Talia per campos edebat funera ductor Dardanius, torrentis aquae vel turbinis atri more furens. Tandem erumpunt et castra relinquunt Ascanius puer et nequiquam obsessa iuventus. Iunonem interea compellat Iuppiter ultro: O germana mihi atque eadem gratissima coniunx, ut rebare, Venus, nec te sententia fallit, Troianas sustentat opes, non vivida bello dextra viris animusque ferox patiensque pericli. Cui Iuno summissa Quid, o pulcherrime coniunx, sollicitas aegram et tua tristia dicta timentem?
Si mihi, quae quondam fuerat quamque esse decebat, vis in amore foret, non hoc mihi namque negares, omnipotens, quin et pugnae subducere Turnum et Dauno possem incolumem servare parenti. Nunc pereat Teucrisque pio det sanguine poenas. Ille tamen nostra deducit origine nomen Pilumnusque illi quartus pater et tua larga saepe manu multisque oneravit limina donis. Cui rex aetherii breviter sic fatur Olympi: Si mora praesentis leti tempusque caduco oratur iuveni meque hoc ita ponere sentis, tolle fuga Turnum atque instantibus eripe fatis
hactenus indulsisse vacat. Sin altior istis sub precibus venia ulla latet totumque moveri mutarive putas bellum, spes pascis inanis. Et Iuno adlacrimans: Quid si, quae voce gravaris, mente dares atque haec Turno rata vita maneret? Nunc manet insontem gravis exitus, aut ego veri vana feror. Quod ut O potius formidine falsa ludar et in melius tua, qui potes, orsa reflectas! Haec ubi dicta dedit, caelo se protinus alto misit, agens hiemem nimbo succincta per auras, Iliacamque aciem et Laurentia castra petivit. Tum dea nube cava tenuem sine viribus umbram
in faciem Aeneae, visu mirabile monstrum, Dardaniis ornat telis clipeumque iubasque divini adsimulat capitis, dat inania verba, dat sine mente sonum gressusque effingit euntis, morte obita qualis fama est volitare figuras aut quae sopitos deludunt somnia sensus. At primas laeta ante acies exsultat imago inritatque virum telis et voce lacessit. Instat cui Turnus stridentemque eminus hastam conicit: illa dato vertit vestigia tergo. Tum vero Aenean aversum ut cedere Turnus credidit atque animo spem turbidus hausit inanem,
Quo fugis, Aenea? Thalamos ne desere pactos; hac dabitur dextra tellus quaesita per undas. Talia vociferans sequitur strictumque coruscat mucronem nec ferre videt sua gaudia ventos. Forte ratis celsi coniuncta crepidine saxi expositis stabat scalis et ponte parato, qua rex Clusinis advectus Osinius oris. Huc sese trepida Aeneae fugientis imago conicit in latebras; nec Turnus segnior instat exsuperatque moras et pontis transilit altos. Vix proram attigerat: rumpit Saturnia funem avolsamque rapit revoluta per aequora navem.
Illum autem Aeneas absentem in praelia poscit; obvia multa virum demittit corpora morti: tum levis haud ultra latebras iam quaerit imago, sed sublime volans nubi se immiscuit atrae. Cum Turnum medio interea fert aequore turbo. Respicit ignarus rerum ingratusque salutis et duplicis cum voce manus ad sidera tendit: Omnipotens genitor, tanton me crimine dignum duxisti et talis voluisti expendere poenas? Quo feror? Unde abii? Quae me fuga quemve reducit? Laurentisne iterum muros aut castra videbo? Quid manus illa virum, qui me meaque arma secuti?
Quosne (nefas) omnis infanda in morte reliqui et nunc palantis video gemitumque cadentum accipio! Quid ago? Aut quae iam satis ima dehiscat terra mihi? Vos O potius miserescite venti: in rupes, in saxa, volens vos Turnus adoro ferte ratem saevisque vadis immittite Syrtis, quo neque me Rutuli nec conscia fama sequatur. Haec memorans animo nunc huc, nunc fluctuat illuc, an sese mucrone ob tantum dedecus amens induat et crudum per costas exigat ensem, fluctibus an iaciat mediis et litora nando curva petat Teucrumque iterum se reddat in arma.
Ter conatus utramque viam, ter maxima Iuno continuit iuvenemque animi miserata repressit. Labitur alta secans fluctuque aestuque secundo et patris antiquam Dauni defertur ad urbem. At Iovis interea monitis Mezentius ardens succedit pugnae Teucrosque invadit ovantis. Concurrunt Tyrrhenae acies atque omnibus uni, uni odiisque viro telisque frequentibus instant. Ille velut rupes, vastum quae prodit in aequor, obvia ventorum furiis expostaque ponto, vim cunctam atque minas perfert caelique marisque, ipsa immota manens, prolem Dolichaonis Hebrum
sternit humi, cum quo Latagum Palmumque fugacem, sed Latagum saxo atque ingenti fragmine montis occupat os faciemque adversam, poplite Palmum succiso volvi segnem sinit, armaque Lauso donat habere umeris et vertice figere cristas. Nec non Euanthen Phrygium Paridisque Mimanta aequalem comitemque, una quem nocte Theano in lucem genitori Amyco dedit et face praegnans Cisseis regina Parin creat: urbe paterna occubat, ignarum Laurens habet ora Mimanta. Ac velut ille canum morsu de montibus altis actus aper, multos Vesulus quem pinifer annos
defendit multosve palus Laurentia, silva pastus harundinea, postquam inter retia ventum est, substitit infremuitque ferox et inhorruit armos, nec cuiquam irasci propiusque accedere virtus, sed iaculis tutisque procul clamoribus instant; ille autem impavidus partis cunctatur in omnis, dentibus infrendens, et tergo decutit hastas. haud aliter, iustae quibus est Mezentius irae, non ulli est animus stricto concurrere ferro; missilibus longe et vasto clamore lacessunt: Venerat antiquis Corythi de finibus Acron, Graius homo, infectos linquens profugus hymenaeos.
Hunc ubi miscentem longe media agmina vidit, purpureum pennis et pactae coniugis ostro: impastus stabula alta leo ceu saepe peragrans, suadet enim vesana fames, si forte fugacem conspexit capream aut surgentem in cornua cervum, gaudet, hians immane, comasque arrexit et haeret visceribus super accumbens, lavit inproba taeter ora cruor, sic ruit in densos alacer Mezentius hostis. Sternitur infelix Acron et calcibus atram tundit humum expirans infractaque tela cruentat. Atque idem fugientem haud est dignatus Oroden
sternere nec iacta caecum dare cuspide volnus: obvius adversoque occurrit seque viro vir contulit, haud furto melior, sed fortibus armis. Tum super abiectum posito pede nixus et hasta: Pars belli haud temnenda, viri, iacet altus Orodes. Conclamant socii laetum paeana secuti. Ille autem exspirans: Non me, quicumque es, inulto, victor, nec longum laetabere: te quoque fata prospectant paria atque eadem mox arva tenebis. Ad quae subridens mixta Mezentius ira: Nunc morere. Ast de me divom pater atque hominum rex viderit. Hoc dicens eduxit corpore telum:
olli dura quies oculos et ferreus urget somnus, in aeternam clauduntur lumina noctem. Caedicus Alcathoum obtruncat, Sacrator Hydaspen Partheniumque Rapo et praedurum viribus Orsen, Messapus Croniumque Lycaoniumque Erichaeten, illum infrenis equi lapsu tellure iacentem, hunc peditem. Pedes et Lycius processerat Agis, quem tamen haud expers Valerus virtutis avitae deicit; at Thronium Salius Saliumque Nealces insidiis, iaculo et longe fallente sagitta. Iam gravis aequabat luctus et mutua Mavors funera: caedebant pariter pariterque ruebant
victores victique, neque his fuga nota neque illis. Di Iovis in tectis iram miserantur inanem amborum et tantos mortalibus esse labores: hinc Venus, hinc contra spectat Saturnia Iuno, pallida Tisiphone media inter milia saevit. At vero ingentem quatiens Mezentius hastam turbidus ingreditur campo. Quam magnus Orion, cum pedes incedit medii per maxima Nerei stagna viam scindens, umero supereminet undas aut summis referens annosam montibus ornum ingrediturque solo et caput inter nubila condit: talis se vastis infert Mezentius armis.
Huic contra Aeneas, speculatus in agmine longo, obvius ire parat. Manet imperterritus ille, hostem magnanimum opperiens, et mole sua stat; atque oculis spatium emensus, quantum satis hastae: Dextra mihi deus et telum, quod missile libro, nunc adsint! Voveo praedonis corpore raptis indutum spoliis ipsum te, Lause, tropaeum Aeneae. Dixit stridentemque eminus hastam iecit; at illa volans clipeo est excussa proculque egregium Antoren latus inter et ilia figit, Herculis Antoren comitem, qui missus ab Argis haeserat Euandro atque Itala consederat urbe.
Sternitur infelix alieno volnere caelumque aspicit et dulcis moriens reminiscitur Argos tum pius Aeneas hastam iacit: illa per orbem aere cavum triplici, per linea terga tribusque transit intextum tauris opus imaque sedit inguine, sed viris haud pertulit. Ocius ensem Aeneas, viso Tyrrheni sanguine laetus, eripit a femine et trepidanti fervidus instat. Ingemuit cari graviter genitoris amore, ut vidit, Lausus, lacrimaeque per ora volutae. Hic mortis durae casum tuaque optima facta, siqua fidem tanto est operi latura vetustas,
non equidem nec te, iuvenis memorande, silebo. Ille pedem referens et inutilis inque ligatus cedebat clipeoque inimicum hastile trahebat: prorupit iuvenis seseque immiscuit armis iamque adsurgentis dextra plagamque ferentis Aeneae subiit mucronem ipsumque morando sustinuit. Socii magno clamore sequuntur, dum genitor nati parma protectus abiret, telaque coniciunt proturbantque eminus hostem missilibus. Furit Aeneas tectusque tenet se. Ac velut effusa siquando grandine nimbi praecipitant, omnis campis diffugit arator
omnis et agricola et tuta latet arce viator, aut amnis ripis aut alti fornice saxi, dum pluit in terris, ut possint sole reducto exercere diem: sic obrutus undique telis Aeneas nubem belli, dum detonet omnis, sustinet et Lausum increpitat Lausoque minatur: Quo moriture ruis maioraque viribus audes? Fallit te incautum pietas tua. Nec minus ille exsultat demens; saevae iamque altius irae Dardanio surgunt ductori, extremaque Lauso Parcae fila legunt: validum namque exigit ensem per medium Aeneas iuvenem totumque recondit.
Transiit et parmam mucro, levia arma minacis, et tunicam, molli mater quam neverat auro, implevitque sinum sanguis; tum vita per auras concessit maesta ad manis corpusque reliquit. At vero ut voltum vidit morientis et ora, ora modis Anchisiades pallentia miris, ingemuit miserans graviter dextramque tetendit, et mentem patriae subiit pietatis imago. Quid tibi nunc, miserande puer, pro laudibus istis, quid pius Aeneas tanta dabit indole dignum? Arma, quibus laetatus, habe tua, teque parentum manibus et cineri, siqua est ea cura, remitto.
Hoc tamen infelix miseram solabere mortem: Aeneae magni dextra cadis. Increpat ultro cunctantis socios et terra sublevat ipsum, sanguine turpantem comptos de more capillos. Interea genitor Tiberini ad fluminis undam volnera siccabat lymphis corpusque levabat arboris adclinis trunco. Procul aerea ramis dependet galea et prato gravia arma quiescunt. Stant lecti circum iuvenes: ipse aeger anhelans colla fovet, fusus propexam in pectore barbam; multa super Lauso rogitat multumque remittit qui revocent maestique ferant mandata parentis.
At Lausum socii exanimem super arma ferebant flentes, ingentem atque ingenti volnere victum. Agnovit longe gemitum praesaga mali mens: canitiem multo deformat pulvere et ambas ad caelum tendit palmas et corpore inhaeret. Tantane me tenuit vivendi, nate, voluptas, ut pro me hostili paterer succedere dextrae, quem genui? Tuane haec genitor per volnera servor, morte tua vivens? Heu, nunc misero mihi demum exitium infelix, nunc alte volnus adactum! Idem ego, nate, tuum maculavi crimine nomen, pulsus ob invidiam solio sceptrisque paternis.
Debueram patriae poenas odiisque meorum: omnis per mortis animam sontem ipse dedissem! Nunc vivo neque adhuc homines lucemque relinquo. Sed linquam. Simul hoc dicens attollit in aegrum se femur et, quamvis dolor alto volnere tardet, haud deiectus equum duci iubet. Hoc decus illi, hoc solamen erat; bellis hoc victor abibat omnibus. Adloquitur maerentem et talibus infit: Rhaebe, diu, res siqua diu mortalibus ulla est, viximus. Aut hodie victor spolia illa cruenti et caput Aeneae referes Lausique dolorum ultor eris mecum aut, aperit si nulla viam vis,
occumbes pariter; neque enim, fortissime, credo, iussa aliena pati et dominos dignabere Teucros. Dixit et exceptus tergo consueta locavit membra manusque ambas iaculis oneravit acutis, aere caput fulgens cristaque hirsutus equina. Sic cursum in medios rapidus dedit: aestuat ingens uno in corde pudor mixtoque insania luctu, Atque hic Aenean magna ter voce vocavit. Aeneas agnovit enim laetusque precatur: Sic pater ille deum faciat, sic altus Apollo, incipias conferre manum. Tantum effatus et infesta subit obvius hasta.
Ille autem: Quid me erepto, saevissime, nato terres? Haec via sola fuit, qua perdere posses. Nec mortem horremus nec divom parcimus ulli. Desine: nam venio moriturus et haec tibi porto dona prius. Dixit telumque intorsit in hostem; inde aliud super atque aliud figitque volatque ingenti gyro, sed sustinet aureus umbo. Ter circum adstantem laevos equitavit in orbes tela manu iaciens, ter secum Troïus heros immanem aerato circumfert tegmine silvam. Inde ubi tot traxisse moras, tot spicula taedet vellere et urgetur pugna congressus iniqua,
multa movens animo iam tandem erumpit et inter bellatoris equi cava tempora conicit hastam. Tollit se arrectum quadrupes et calcibus auras verberat effusumque equitem super ipse secutus implicat eiectoque incumbit cernuus armo. Clamore incendunt caelum Troesque Latinique. Advolat Aeneas vaginaque eripit ensem et super haec: Ubi nunc Mezentius acer et illa effera vis animi? Contra Tyrrhenus, ut auras suspiciens hausit caelum mentemque recepit: Hostis amare, quid increpitas mortemque minaris? Nullum in caede nefas, nec sic ad proelia veni,
nec tecum meus haec pepigit mihi foedera Lausus. Unum hoc per siqua est victis venia hostibus oro: corpus humo patiare tegi. Scio acerba meorum circumstare odia: hunc, oro, defende furorem et me consortem nati concede sepulchro. Haec loquitur iuguloque haud inscius accipit ensem undantique animam diffundit in arva cruore.
Book 11
Oceanum interea surgens Aurora reliquit: Aeneas, quamquam et sociis dare tempus humandis praecipitant curae turbataque funere mens est, vota deum primo victor solvebat Eoo. Ingentem quercum decisis undique ramis constituit tumulo fulgentiaque induit arma, Mezenti ducis exuvias, tibi, magne, tropaeum, bellipotens: aptat rorantis sanguine cristas telaque trunca viri et bis sex thoraca petitum perfossumque locis clipeumque ex aere sinistrae subligat atque ensem collo suspendit eburnum. Tum socios, namque omnis eum stipata tegebat
turba ducum, sic incipiens hortatur ovantis: Maxima res effecta, viri; timor omnis abesto, quod superest: haec sunt spolia et de rege superbo primitiae, manibusque meis Mezentius hic est. Nunc iter ad regem nobis murosque Latinos. Arma parate animis et spe praesumite bellum, nequa mora ignaros, ubi primum vellere signa adnuerint superi pubemque educere castris, impediat segnisve metu sententia tardet. Interea socios inhumataque corpora terrae mandemus, qui solus honos Acheronte sub imo est. Ite, ait, egregias animas, quae sanguine nobis
hanc patriam peperere suo, decorate supremis muneribus, maestamque Evandri primus ad urbem mittatur Pallas, quem non virtutis egentem abstulit atra dies et funere mersit acerbo. Sic ait inlacrimans recipitque ad limina gressum, corpus ubi exanimi positum Pallantis Acoetes servabat senior, qui Parrhasio Evandro armiger ante fuit, sed non felicibus aeque tum comes auspiciis caro datus ibat alumno. Circum omnis famulumque manus Troianaque turba et maestum Iliades crinem de more solutae. Ut vero Aeneas foribus sese intulit altis,
ingentem gemitum tunsis ad sidera tollunt pectoribus, maestoque immugit regia luctu. Ipse caput nivei fultum Pallantis et ora ut vidit levique patens in pectore vulnus cuspidis Ausoniae, lacrimis ita fatur obortis. Tene, inquit, miserande puer, cum laeta veniret, invidit Fortuna mihi, ne regna videres nostra neque ad sedes victor veherere paternas? Non haec Evandro de te promissa parenti discedens dederam, cum me complexus euntem mitteret in magnum imperium metuensque moneret acris esse viros, cum dura proelia gente.
Et nunc ille quidem spe multum captus inani fors et vota facit cumulatque altaria donis: nos iuvenem exanimum et nil iam caelestibus ullis debentem vano maesti comitamur honore. Infelix, nati funus crudele videbis! Hi nostri reditus expectatique triumphi! Haec mea magna fides! At non, Evandre, pudendis vulneribus pulsum adspicies nec sospite dirum optabis nato funus pater. Ei mihi, quantum praesidium Ausonia et quantum tu perdis, Iule! Haec ubi deflevit, tolli miserabile corpus imperat et toto lectos ex agmine mittit
mille viros, qui supremum comitentur honorem intersintque patris lacrimis, solacia luctus exigua ingentis, misero sed debita patri. Haud segnes alii crates et molle feretrum arbuteis texunt virgis et vimine querno exstructosque toros obtentu frondis inumbrant. Hic iuvenem agresti sublimem stramine ponunt, qualem virgineo demessum pollice florem seu mollis violae seu languentis hyacinthi, cui neque fulgor adhuc necdum sua forma recessit: non iam mater alit tellus viresque ministrat. Tum geminas vestes auroque ostroque rigentis
extulit Aeneas, quas illi laeta laborum ipsa suis quondam manibus Sidonia Dido fecerat et tenui telas discreverat auro. Harum unam iuveni supremum maestus honorem induit arsurasque comas obnubit amictu, multaque praeterea Laurentis praemia pugnae aggerat et longo praedam iubet ordine duci. Addit equos et tela, quibus spoliaverat hostem. Vinxerat et post terga manus, quos mitteret umbris inferias, caeso sparsuros sanguine flammas, indutosque iubet truncos hostilibus armis ipsos ferre duces inimicaque nomina figi.
Ducitur infelix aevo confectus Acoetes: pectora nunc foedans pugnis, nunc unguibus ora sternitur et toto proiectus corpore terrae.~.~. Ducunt et Rutulo perfusos sanguine currus. Post bellator equus positis insignibus Aethon it lacrimans guttisque umectat grandibus ora. Hastam alii galeamque ferunt, nam cetera Turnus victor habet. Tum maesta phalanx Teucrique sequuntur Tyrrhenique omnes et versis Arcades armis. Postquam omnis longe comitum praecesserat ordo, substitit Aeneas gemituque haec addidit alto: Nos alias hinc ad lacrimas eadem horrida belli
fata vocant: salve aeternum mihi, maxime Palla, aeternumque vale. Nec plura effatus ad altos tendebat muros gressumque in castra ferebat. Iamque oratores aderant ex urbe Latina, velati ramis oleae veniamque rogantes: corpora, per campos ferro quae fusa iacebant, redderet ac tumulo sineret succedere terrae; nullum cum victis certamen et aethere cassis; parceret hospitibus quondam socerisque vocatis. Quos bonus Aeneas haud aspernanda precantis prosequitur venia et verbis haec insuper addit: Quaenam vos tanto fortuna indigna, Latini,
implicuit bello, qui nos fugiatis amicos? Pacem me exanimis et Martis sorte peremptis oratis? Equidem et vivis concedere vellem. Nec veni, nisi fata locum sedemque dedissent, nec bellum cum gente gero: rex nostra reliquit hospitia et Turni potius se credidit armis. Aequius huic Turnum fuerat se opponere morti. Si bellum finire manu, si pellere Teucros apparat, his mecum decuit concurrere telis: vixet, cui vitam deus aut sua dextra dedisset. Nunc ite et miseris supponite civibus ignem. Dixerat Aeneas. Illi obstipuere silentes
conversique oculos inter se atque ora tenebant. Tum senior semperque odiis et crimine Drances infensus iuveni Turno sic ore vicissim orsa refert: O fama ingens, ingentior armis vir Troiane, quibus caelo te laudibus aequem? Iustitiaene prius mirer belline laborum? Nos vero haec patriam grati referemus ad urbem et te, siqua viam dederit fortuna, Latino iungemus regi: quaerat sibi foedera Turnus. Quin et fatalis murorum attollere moles saxaque subvectare umeris Troiana iuvabit. Dixerat haec, unoque omnes eadem ore fremebant.
Bis senos pepigere dies et pace sequestra per silvas Teucri mixtique inpune Latini erravere iugis. Ferro sonat alta bipenni fraxinus, evertunt actas ad sidera pinus, robora nec cuneis et olentem scindere cedrum nec plaustris cessant vectare gementibus ornos. Et iam Fama volans, tanti praenuntia luctus, Evandrum Evandrique domos et moenia replet, quae modo victorem Latio Pallanta ferebat. Arcades ad portas ruere et de more vetusto funereas rapuere faces; lucet via longo ordine flammarum et late discriminat agros.
Contra turba Phrygum veniens plangentia iungit agmina. Quae postquam matres succedere tectis viderunt, maestam incendunt clamoribus urbem. At non Evandrum potis est vis ulla tenere, sed venit in medios. Feretro Pallanta reposto procubuit super atque haeret lacrimansque gemensque, et via vix tandem vocis laxata dolore est. Non haec, O Palla, dederas promissa parenti, cautius ut saevo velles te credere Marti; haud ignarus eram, quantum nova gloria in armis et praedulce decus primo certamine posset. Primitiae iuvenis miserae bellique propinqui
dura rudimenta et nulli exaudita deorum vota precesque meae! Tuque, O sanctissima coniunx, felix morte tua neque in hunc servata dolorem! Contra ego vivendo vici mea fata, superstes restarem ut genitor. Troum socia arma secutum obruerent Rutuli telis! Animam ipse dedissem atque haec pompa domum me, non Pallanta, referret, nec vos arguerim, Teucri, nec foedera nec quas iunximus hospitio dextras: sors ista senectae debita erat nostrae. Quod si immatura manebat mors natum, caesis Volscorum milibus ante ducentem in Latium Teucros cecidisse iuvabit.
Quin ego non alio digner te funere, Palla, quam pius Aeneas Magna tropaea ferunt, quos dat tua dextera Leto: tu quoque nunc stares immanis truncus in armis, esset par aetas et idem si robur ab annis, Turne. Sed infelix Teucros quid demoror armis? Vadite et haec memores regi mandata referte: quod vitam moror invisam Pallante perempto, dextera causa tua est, Turnum natoque patrique quam debere vides. Meritis vacat hic tibi solus fortunaeque locus. Non vitae gaudia quaero, nec fas, sed nato Manis perferre sub imos.
Aurora interea miseris mortalibus almam extulerat lucem, referens opera atque labores: iam pater Aeneas, iam curvo in litore Tarchon constituere pyras. Huc corpora quisque suorum more tulere patrum, subiectisque ignibus atris conditur in tenebras altum caligine caelum. Ter circum accensos cincti fulgentibus armis decurrere rogos, ter maestum funeris ignem lustravere in equis ululatusque ore dedere; spargitur et tellus lacrimis, sparguntur et arma: it caelo clamorque virum clangorque tubarum. Hic alii spolia occisis derepta Latinis
coniciunt igni, galeas ensesque decoros frenaque ferventisque rotas; pars munera nota, ipsorum clipeos et non felicia tela. Multa boum circa mactantur corpora Morti, saetigerosque sues raptasque ex omnibus agris in flammam iugulant pecudes. Tum litore toto ardentis spectant socios semustaque servant busta neque avelli possunt, nox umida donec invertit caelum stellis ardentibus aptum. Nec minus et miseri diversa in parte Latini innumeras struxere pyras, et corpora partim multa virum terrae infodiunt avectaque partim
finitimos tollunt in agros urbique remittunt, cetera confusaeque ingentem caedis acervum nec numero nec honore cremant: tunc undique vasti certatim crebris conlucent ignibus agri. Tertia lux gelidam caelo dimoverat umbram: maerentes altum cinerem et confusa ruebant ossa focis tepidoque onerabant aggere terrae. Iam vero in tectis, praedivitis urbe Latini, praecipuus fragor et longi pars maxima luctus. Hic matres miseraeque nurus, hic cara sororum pectora maerentum puerique parentibus orbi dirum exsecrantur bellum Turnique hymenaeos:
ipsum armis ipsumque iubent decernere ferro, qui regnum Italiae et primos sibi poscat honores. ingravat haec saevus Drances solumque vocari testatur, solum posci in certamina Turnum. Multa simul contra variis sententia dictis pro Turno, et magnum reginae nomen obumbrat, multa virum meritis sustentat fama tropaeis. Hos inter motus, medio in flagrante tumultu, ecce super maesti magna Diomedis ab urbe legati responsa ferunt: nihil omnibus actum tantorum impensis operum, nil dona neque aurum nec magnas valuisse preces, alia arma Latinis
quaerenda aut pacem Troiano ab rege petendum. Deficit ingenti luctu rex ipse Latinus. Fatalem Aenean manifesto numine ferri admonet ira deum tumulique ante ora recentes. Ergo concilium magnum primosque suorum imperio accitos alta intra limina cogit. olli convenere fluuntque ad regia plenis tecta viis. Sedet in mediis et maximus aevo et primus sceptris haud laeta fronte Latinus. Atque hic legatos Aetola ex urbe remissos, quae referant, fari iubet et responsa reposcit ordine cuncta suo. Tum facta silentia linguis,
et Venulus dicto parens ita farier infit: Vidimus, o cives, Diomedem Argivaque castra atque iter emensi casus superavimus omnis contigimusque manum, qua concidit Ilia tellus. Ille urbem Argyripam patriae cognomine gentis victor Gargani condebat Iapygis agris. Postquam introgressi et coram data copia fandi, munera praeferimus, nomen patriamque docemus, qui bellum intulerint, quae causa attraxerit Arpos. Auditis ille haec placido sic reddidit ore: O fortunatae gentes, Saturnia regna, antiqui Ausonii, quae vos fortuna quietos
sollicitat suadetque ignota lacessere bella? Quicumque Iliacos ferro violavimus agros, mitto ea, quae muris bellando exhausta sub altis, quos Simois premat ille viros, infanda per orbem supplicia et scelerum poenas expendimus omnes, vel Priamo miseranda manus: scit triste Minervae sidus et Euboicae cautes ultorque Caphareus. Militia ex illa diversum ad litus abacti Atrides Protei Menelaus adusque columnas exsulat, Aetnaeos vidit Cyclopas Ulixes. Regna Neoptolemi referam versosque penates Idomenei? Libycone habitantis litore Locros?
Ipse Mycenaeus magnorum ductor Achivom coniugis infandae prima inter limina dextra oppetiit: devictam Asiam subsedit adulter. Invidisse deos, patriis ut redditus aris coniugium optatum et pulchram Calydona viderem? Nunc etiam horribili visu portenta sequuntur, et socii amissi petierunt aethera pennis fluminibusque vagantur aves, heu dira meorum supplicia, et scopulos lacrimosis vocibus implent. Haec adeo ex illo mihi iam speranda fuerunt tempore, cum ferro caelestia corpora demens adpetii et Veneris violavi volnere dextram.
Ne vero, ne me ad talis impellite pugnas: nec mihi cum Teucris ullum post eruta bellum Pergama, nec veterum memini laetorve malorum. Munera, quae patriis ad me portatis ab oris, vertite ad Aenean. Stetimus tela aspera contra contulimusque manus: experto credite, quantus in clipeum adsurgat, quo turbine torqueat hastam. Si duo praeterea talis Idaea tulisset terra viros, ultro Inachias venisset ad urbes Dardanus, et versis lugeret Graecia fatis. Quidquid apud durae cessatum est moenia Troiae, Hectoris Aeneaeque manu victoria Graium
haesit et in decimum vestigia rettulit annum. Ambo animis, ambo insignes praestantibus armis hic pietate prior. Coeant in foedera dextrae, qua datur; ast armis concurrant arma cavete. Et responsa simul quae sint, rex optime, regis audisti et quae sit magno sententia bello. Vix ea legati, variusque per ora cucurrit Ausonidum turbata fremor: ceu saxa morantur cum rapidos amnis, fit clauso gurgite murmur vicinaeque fremunt ripae crepitantibus undis. Ut primum placati animi et trepida ora quierunt, praefatus divos solio rex infit ab alto:
Ante equidem summa de re statuisse, Latini, et vellem et fuerat melius, non tempore tali cogere concilium, cum muros adsidet hostis. Bellum importunum, cives, cum gente deorum invictisque viris gerimus, quos nulla fatigant proelia: nec victi possunt absistere ferro. Spem siquam adscitis Aetolum habuistis in armis, ponite. Spes sibi quisque, sed haec quam angusta videtis; cetera qua rerum iaceant perculsa ruina, ante oculos interque manus sunt omnia vestras. Nec quemquam incuso: potuit quae plurima virtus esse, fuit; toto certatum est corpore regni.
Nunc adeo quae sit dubiae sententia menti expediam et paucis, animos adhibete, docebo. Est antiquus ager Tusco mihi proximus amni, longus in occasum, finis super usque Sicanos; Aurunci Rutulique serunt et vomere duros exercent colles atque horum asperrima pascunt. Haec omnis regio et celsi plaga pinea montis cedat amicitiae Teucrorum, et foederis aequas dicamus leges sociosque in regna vocemus. Considant, si tantus amor, et moenia condant. Sin alios finis aliamque capessere gentem est animus possuntque solo decedere nostro:
bis denas Italo texamus robore navis seu pluris complere valent, iacet omnis ad undam materies, ipsi numerumque modumque carinis praecipiant, nos aera manus navalia demus. Praeterea qui dicta ferant et foedera firment centum oratores prima de gente Latinos ire placet pacisque manu praetendere ramos, munera portantis aurique eborisque talenta et sellam regni trabeamque insignia nostri. Consulite in medium et rebus succurrite fessis. Tum Drances idem infensus, quem gloria Turni obliqua invidia stimulisque agitabat amaris,
largus opum et lingua melior, sed frigida bello dextera, consiliis habitus non futilis auctor, seditione potens (genus huic materna superbum nobilitas dabat, incertum de patre ferebat), surgit et his onerat dictis atque aggerat iras: Rem nulli obscuram nostrae nec vocis egentem consulis, O bone rex: cuncti se scire fatentur, quid fortuna ferat populi, sed dicere mussant. Det libertatem fandi flatusque remittat cuius ob auspicium infaustum moresque sinistros (dicam equidem, licet arma mihi mortemque minetur) lumina tot cecidisse ducum totamque videmus
consedisse urbem luctu, dum Troia temptat castra fugae fidens et caelum territat armis. Unum etiam donis istis, quae plurima mitti Dardanidis dicique iubes, unum, optime regum, adicias nec te ullius violentia vincat, quin natam egregio genero dignisque hymenaeis des, pater, et pacem hanc aeterno foedere iungas. Quod si tantus habet mentes et pectora terror, ipsum obtestemur veniamque oremus ab ipso: cedat, ius proprium regi patriaeque remittat. Quid miseros totiens in aperta pericula cives proicis, O Latio caput horum et causa malorum?
Nulla salus bello: pacem te poscimus omnes, Turne, simul pacis solum inviolabile pignus. Primus ego, invisum quem tu tibi fingis, et esse nil moror, en supplex venio. Miserere tuorum, pone animos et pulsus abi. Sat funera fusi vidimus ingentis et desolavimus agros. Aut si fama movet, si tantum pectore robur concipis et si adeo dotalis regia cordi est, aude atque adversum fidens fer pectus in hostem. Scilicet ut Turno contingat regia coniunx, nos animae viles, inhumata infletaque turba, sternamur campis. Etiam tu, siqua tibi vis,
si patrii quid Martis habes, illum aspice contra, qui vocat. Talibus exarsit dictis violentia Turni; dat gemitum rumpitque has imo pectore voces Larga quidem, Drance, semper tibi copia fandi tum, cum bella manus poscunt, patribusque vocatis primus ades. Sed non replenda est curia verbis, quae tuto tibi magna volant, dum distinet hostem agger murorum nec inundant sanguine fossae. Proinde tona eloquio, solitum tibi, meque timoris argue tu, Drance, quando tot stragis acervos Teucrorum tua dextra dedit passimque tropaeis
insignis agros. Possit quid vivida virtus, experiare licet; nec longe scilicet hostes quaerendi nobis: circumstant undique muros. Imus in adversos: quid cessas? An tibi Mavors ventosa in lingua pedibusque fugacibus istis semper erit? Pulsus ego? Aut quisquam merito, foedissime, pulsum arguet, Iliaco tumidum qui crescere Thybrim sanguine et Evandri totam cum stirpe videbit procubuisse domum atque exutos Arcadas armis? Haud ita me experti Bitias et Pandarus ingens et quos mille die victor sub Tartara misi,
inclusus muris hostilique aggere saeptus. Nulla salus bello. Capiti cane talia, demens, Dardanio rebusque tuis. Proinde omnia magno ne cessa turbare metu atque extollere vires gentis bis victae, contra premere arma Latini. Nunc et Myrmidonum proceres Phrygia arma tremescunt, nunc et Tydides et Larissaeus Achilles, amnis et Hadriacas retro fugit Aufidus undas. Vel cum se pavidum contra mea iurgia fingit artificis scelus et formidine crimen acerbat. Numquam animam talem dextra hac, absiste moveri, amittes: habitet tecum et sit pectore in isto.
Nunc ad te et tua magna, pater, consulta revertor. Si nullam nostris ultra spem ponis in armis, si tam deserti sumus et semel agmine verso funditus occidimus neque habet Fortuna regressum? oremus pacem et dextras tendamus inertis. Quamquam O, si solitae quicquam virtutis adesset! Ille mihi ante alios fortunatusque laborum egregiusque animi, qui, nequid tale videret, procubuit moriens et humum semel ore momordit. Sin et opes nobis et adhuc intacta iuventus auxilioque urbes Italae populique supersunt, sin et Troianis cum multo gloria venit
sanguine, sunt illis sua funera parque per omnis tempestas: cur indecores in limine primo deficimus? Cur ante tubam tremor occupat artus? Multa dies variisque labor mutabilis aevi rettulit in melius, multos alterna revisens lusit et in solido rursus Fortuna locavit. Non erit auxilio nobis Aetolus et Arpi: at Messapus erit felixque Tolumnius et quos tot populi misere duces, nec parva sequetur gloria delectos Latio et Laurentibus agris. Est et Volscorum egregia de gente Camilla, agmen agens equitum et florentis aere catervas.
Quod si me solum Teucri in certamina poscunt idque placet tantumque bonis communibus obsto, non adeo has exosa manus Victoria fugit, ut tanta quicquam pro spe temptare recusem. Ibo animis contra, vel magnum praestet Achillem factaque Vulcani manibus paria induat arma ille licet. Vobis animam hanc soceroque Latino Turnus ego, haud ulli veterum virtute secundus, devovi. Solum Aeneas vocat: et vocet oro, nec Drances potius, sive est haec ira deorum, morte luat, sive est virtus et gloria, tollat. Illi haec inter se dubiis de rebus agebant
certantes; castra Aeneas aciemque movebat: nuntius ingenti per regia tecta tumultu ecce ruit magnisque urbem terroribus implet, instructos acie Tiberino a flumine Teucros Tyrrhenamque manum totis descendere campis. Extemplo turbati animi concussaque vulgi pectora et adrectae stimulis haud mollibus irae. Arma manu trepidi poscunt, fremit arma iuventus, flent maesti mussantque patres. Hic undique clamor dissensu vario magnus se tollit in auras haud secus atque alto in luco cum forte catervae consedere avium piscosove amne Padusae
dant sonitum rauci per stagna loquacia cycni. Immo, ait, O cives adrepto tempore, Turnus, cogite concilium et pacem laudate sedentes: illi armis in regna ruunt. Nec plura locutus corripuit sese et tectis citus extulit altis. Tu, Voluse, armari Volscorum edice maniplos, duc, ait, et Rutulos. Equitem Messapus in armis et cum fratre Coras latis diffundite campis. Pars aditus urbis firmet turrisque capessat, cetera, qua iusso, mecum manus inferat arma. Ilicet in muros tota discurritur urbe. Consilium ipse pater et magna incepta Latinus
deserit ac tristi turbatus tempore differt multaque se incusat, qui non adceperit ultro Dardanium Aenean generumque adsciverit urbi. Praefodiunt alii portas aut saxa sudesque subvectant. Bello dat signum rauca cruentum bucina. Tum muros varia cinxere corona matronae puerique: vocat labor ultimus omnis. Nec non ad templum summasque ad Palladis arces subvehitur magna matrum regina caterva dona ferens, iuxtaque comes Lavinia virgo, causa mali tanti, oculos deiecta decoros. Succedunt matres et templum ture vaporant
et maestas alto fundunt de limine voces: Armipotens, praeses belli, Tritonia virgo, frange manu telum Phrygii praedonis et ipsum pronum sterne solo portisque effunde sub altis. Cingitur ipse furens certatim in proelia Turnus. Iamque adeo rutilum thoraca indutus aenis horrebat squamis surasque incluserat auro, tempora nudus adhuc, laterique adcinxerat ensem fulgebatque alta decurrens aureus arce, exsultatque animis et spe iam praecipit hostem: qualis ubi abruptis fugit praesaepia vinclis tandem liber equus campoque potitus aperto
aut ille in pastus armentaque tendit equarum aut adsuetus aquae perfundi flumine noto emicat adrectisque fremit cervicibus alte luxurians, luduntque iubae per colla, per armos. Obvia cui Volscorum acie comitante Camilla occurrit portisque ab equo regina sub ipsis desiluit, quam tota cohors imitata relictis ad terram defluxit equis; tum talia fatur: Turne, sui merito siqua est fiducia forti, audeo et Aeneadum promitto occurrere turmae solaque Tyrrhenos equites ire obvia contra. Me sine prima manu temptare pericula belli
tu pedes ad muros subsiste et moenia serva. Turnus ad haec, oculos horrenda in virgine fixus: O decus Italiae virgo, quas dicere grates quasve referre parem? Sed nunc, est omnia quando iste animus supra, mecum partire laborem. Aeneas, ut fama fidem missique reportant exploratores, equitum levia improbus arma praemisit, quaterent campos; ipse ardua montis per deserta iugo superans adventat ad urbem. Furta paro belli convexo in tramite silvae, ut bivias armato obsidam milite fauces. Tu Tyrrhenum equitem conlatis excipe signis;
tecum acer Messapus erit turmaeque Latinae Tiburtique manus, ducis et tu concipe curam. Sic ait, et paribus Messapum in proelia dictis hortatur sociosque duces et pergit in hostem. Est curvo anfractu valles, adcommoda fraudi armorumque dolis, quam densis frondibus atrum urget utrimque latus, tenuis quo semita ducit angustaeque ferunt fauces aditusque maligni. Hanc super in speculis summoque in vertice montis planities ignota iacet tutique receptus, seu dextra laevaque velis occurrere pugnae, sive instare iugis et grandia volvere saxa.
Huc iuvenis nota fertur regione viarum arripuitque locum et silvis insedit iniquis. Velocem interea superis in sedibus Opim, unam ex virginibus sociis sacraque caterva, compellabat et has tristis Latonia voces ore dabat: Graditur bellum ad crudele Camilla, O virgo, et nostris nequiquam cingitur armis, cara mihi ante alias. Neque enim novus iste Dianae venit amor subitaque animum dulcedine movit. Pulsus ob invidiam regno viresque superbas Priverno antiqua Metabus cum excederet urbe, infantem fugiens media inter proelia belli
sustulit exsilio comitem matrisque vocavit nomine Casmillae mutata parte Camillam. Ipse sinu prae se portans iuga longa petebat solorum nemorum: tela undique saeva premebant et circumfuso volitabant milite Volsci. Ecce fugae medio summis Amasenus abundans spumabat ripis: tantus se nubibus imber ruperat. Ille, innare parans, infantis amore tardatur caroque oneri timet. Omnia secum versanti subito vix haec sententia sedit. Telum immane manu valida quod forte gerebat bellator, solidum nodis et robore cocto,
huic natam, libro et silvestri subere clausam, implicat atque habilem mediae circumligat hastae; quam dextra ingenti librans ita ad aethera fatur: Alma, tibi hanc, nemorum cultrix, Latonia virgo, ipse pater famulam voveo; tua prima per auras tela tenens supplex hostem fugit. Accipe, testor, diva tuam, quae nunc dubiis committitur auris. Dixit et adducto contortum hastile lacerto immittit: sonuere undae, rapidum super amnem infelix fugit in iaculo stridente Camilla. At Metabus, magna propius iam urgente caterva, dat sese fluvio atque hastam cum virgine victor
gramineo donum Triviae de caespite vellit. Non illum tectis ullae, non moenibus urbes accepere neque ipse manus feritate dedisset: pastorum et solis exegit montibus aevom. Hic natam in dumis interque horrentia lustra armentalis equae mammis et lacte ferino nutribat, teneris immulgens ubera labris. Utque pedum primis infans vestigia plantis institerat, iaculo palmas armavit acuto spiculaque ex umero parvae suspendit et arcum. Pro crinali auro, pro longae tegmine pallae tigridis exuviae per dorsum a vertice pendent.
Tela manu iam tum tenera puerilia torsit et fundam tereti circum caput egit habena Strymoniamque gruem aut album deiecit olorem. Multae illam frustra Tyrrhena per oppida matres optavere nurum: sola contenta Diana aeternum telorum et virginitatis amorem intemerata colit. Vellem haud correpta fuisset militia tali, conata lacessere Teucros: cara mihi comitumque foret nunc una mearum. Verum age, quandoquidem fatis urgetur acerbis, abere, nympha, polo finisque invise Latinos, tristis ubi infausto committitur omine pugna.
Haec cape et ultricem pharetra deprome sagittam: hac quicumque sacrum violarit volnere corpus, Tros Italusque, mihi pariter det sanguine poenas. Post ego nube cava miserandae corpus et arma inspoliata feram tumulo patriaeque reponam. Dixit; at illa levis caeli delapsa per auras insonuit, nigro circumdata turbine corpus. At manus interea muris Troiana propinquat Etruscique duces equitumque exercitus omnis, compositi numero in turmas. Fremit aequore toto insultans sonipes et pressis pugnat habenis huc conversus et huc; tum late ferreus hastis
horret ager campique armis sublimibus ardent. Nec non Messapus contra celeresque Latini et cum fratre Coras et virginis ala Camillae adversi campo apparent hastasque reductis protendunt longe dextris et spicula vibrant, adventusque virum fremitusque ardescit equorum. Iamque intra iactum teli progressus uterque substiterat: subito erumpunt clamore furentisque exhortantur equos; fundunt simul undique tela crebra nivis ritu caelumque obtexitur umbra. Continuo adversis Tyrrhenus et acer Aconteus conixi incurrunt hastis primique ruina
dant sonitum ingenti perfractaque quadrupedantum pectora pectoribus rumpunt: excussus Aconteus fulminis in morem aut tormento ponderis acti praecipitat longe et vitam dispergit in auras. Extemplo turbatae acies, versique Latini reiciunt parmas et equos ad moenia vertunt. Troes agunt, princeps turmas inducit Asilas. Iamque propinquabant portis, rursusque Latini clamorem tollunt et mollia colla reflectunt: hi fugiunt penitusque datis referuntur habenis. Qualis ubi alterno procurrens gurgite pontus nunc ruit ad terram scopulusque superiacit unda
spumeus extremamque sinu perfundit arenam, nunc rapidus retro atque aestu revoluta resorbens saxa fugit litusque vado labente relinquit: bis Tusci Rutulos egere ad moenia versos, bis reiecti armis respectant terga tegentes. Tertia sed postquam congressi in proelia totas implicuere inter se acies legitque virum vir: tum vero et gemitus morientum et sanguine in alto armaque corporaque et permixti caede virorum semianimes volvuntur equi, pugna aspera surgit. Orsilochus Remuli, quando ipsum horrebat adire, hastam intorsit equo ferrumque sub aure reliquit.
Quo sonipes ictu furit arduus altaque iactat vulneris impatiens arrecto pectore crura: volvitur ille excussus humi. Catillus Iollan ingentemque animis, ingentem corpore et armis deicit Herminium, nudo cui vertice fulva caesaries nudique umeri, nec vulnera terrent: tantus in arma patet. Latos huic hasta per armos acta tremit duplicatque virum transfixa dolore. Funditur ater ubique cruor; dant funera ferro certantes pulchramque petunt per vulnera mortem. At medias inter caedes exsultat Amazon, unum exserta latus pugnae, pharetrata Camilla,
et nunc lenta manu spargens hastilia denset, nunc validam dextra rapit indefessa bipennem; aureus ex umero sonat arcus et arma Dianae. Illa etiam in tergum, siquando pulsa recessit, spicula converso fugientia dirigit arcu. At circum lectae comites, Larinaque virgo Tullaque et aeratam quatiens Tarpeia securem, Italides, quas ipsa decus sibi dia Camilla delegit pacisque bonas bellique ministras: quales Threiciae cum flumina Thermodontis pulsant et pictis bellantur Amazones armis seu circum Hippolyten, seu cum se Martia curru
Penthesilea refert, magnoque ululante tumultu feminea exsultant lunatis agmina peltis. Quem telo primum, quem postremum, aspera virgo, deicis? Aut quot humi morientia corpora fundis? Eunaeum Clitio primum patre, cuius apertum adversi longa transverberat abiete pectus: sanguinis ille vomens rivos cadit atque cruentam mandit humum moriensque suo se in volnere versat. Tum Lirim Pagasumque super; quorum alter habenas suffosso revolutus equo dum colligit, alter dum subit ac dextram labenti tendit inermem, praecipites pariterque ruunt. His addit Amastrum
Hippotaden, sequiturque incumbens eminus hasta Tereaque Harpalycumque et Demophoonta Chrominque; quotque emissa manu contorsit spicula virgo, tot Phrygii cecidere viri. Procul Ornytus armis ignotis et equo venator Iapyge fertur, cui pellis latos umeros erepta iuvenco pugnatori operit, caput ingens oris hiatus et malae texere lupi cum dentibus albis, agrestisque manus armat sparus; ipse catervis vertitur in mediis et toto vertice supra est. Hunc illa exceptum, neque enim labor agmine verso, traicit et super haec inimico pectore fatur:
Silvis te, Tyrrhene, feras agitare putasti? Advenit qui vestra dies muliebribus armis verba redarguerit. Nomen tamen haud leve patrum manibus hoc referes, telo cecidisse Camillae. Protinus Orsilochum et Buten, duo maxima Teucrum corpora, sed Buten aversum cuspide fixit loricam galeamque inter, qua colla sedentis lucent et laevo dependet parma lacerto, Orsilochum fugiens magnumque agitata per orbem eludit gyro interior sequiturque sequentem, tum validam perque arma viro perque ossa securim altior exsurgens oranti et multa precanti
congeminat: vulnus calido rigat ora cerebro. Incidit huic subitoque aspectu territus haesit Appenninicolae bellator filius Auni, haud Ligurum extremus, dum fallere fata sinebant. Isque ubi se nullo iam cursu evadere pugnae posse neque instantem reginam avertere cernit, consilio versare dolos ingressus et astu incipit haec: Quid tam egregium, si femina forti fidis equo? Dimitte fugam et te comminus aequo mecum crede solo pugnaeque adcinge pedestri: iam nosces, ventosa ferat cui gloria fraudem. Dixit, at illa furens acrique adcensa dolore
tradit equum comiti paribusque resistit in armis, ense pedes nudo puraque interrita parma. At iuvenis, vicisse dolo ratus, avolat ipse, haud mora, conversisque fugax aufertur habenis quadrupedemque citum ferrata calce fatigat. Vane Ligus frustraque animis elate superbis, nequiquam patrias temptasti lubricus artis, nec fraus te incolumem fallaci perferet Auno, haec fatur virgo et pernicibus ignea plantis transit equum cursu frenisque adversa prehensis congreditur poenasque inimico ex sanguine sumit: quam facile accipiter saxo sacer ales ab alto
consequitur pennis sublimem in nube columbam comprensamque tenet pedibusque eviscerat uncis; tum cruor et vulsae labuntur ab aethere plumae. At non haec nullis hominum sator atque deorum observans oculis summo sedet altus Olympo: Tyrrhenum genitor Tarchonem in proelia saeva suscitat et stimulis haud mollibus incitat iras. Ergo inter caedes cedentiaque agmina Tarchon fertur equo variisque instigat vocibus alas, nomine quemque vocans, reficitque in proelia pulsos. Quis metus, O numquam dolituri, O semper inertes Tyrrheni, quae tanta animis ignavia venit?
Femina palantis agit atque haec agmina vertit! Quo ferrum quidve haec gerimus tela inrita dextris? At non in Venerem segnes nocturnaque bella aut ubi curva choros indixit tibia Bacchi, exspectate dapes et plenae pocula mensae, hic amor, hoc studium, dum sacra secundus haruspex nuntiet ac lucos vocet hostia pinguis in altos! Haec effatus equum in medios, moriturus et ipse, concitat et Venulo adversum se turbidus infert dereptumque ab equo dextra complectitur hostem et gremium ante suum multa vi concitus aufert. Tollitur in caelum clamor, cunctique Latini
convertere oculos. Volat igneus aequore Tarchon arma virumque ferens; tum summa ipsius ab hasta defringit ferrum et partis rimatur apertas, qua vulnus letale ferat; contra ille repugnans sustinet a iugulo dextram et vim viribus exit. Utque volans alte raptum cum fulva draconem fert aquila implicuitque pedes atque unguibus haesit, saucius at serpens sinuosa volumina versat adrectisque horret squamis et sibilat ore, arduus insurgens; illa haud minus urget obunco luctantem rostro, simul aethera verberat alis: haud aliter praedam Tiburtum ex agmine Tarchon
portat ovans. Ducis exemplum eventumque secuti Maeonidae incurrunt. Tum fatis debitus Arruns velocem iaculo et multa prior arte Camillam circuit et quae sit fortuna facillima, temptat. Qua se cumque furens medio tulit agmine virgo, hac Arruns subit et tacitus vestigia lustrat; qua victrix redit illa pedemque ex hoste reportat, hac iuvenis furtim celeris detorquet habenas. Hos aditus iamque hos aditus omnemque pererrat undique circuitum et certam quatit improbus hastam. Forte sacer Cybelo Chloreus olimque sacerdos insignis longe Phrygiis fulgebat in armis
spumantemque agitabat equum, quem pellis aënis in plumam squamis auro conserta tegebat. Ipse, peregrina ferrugine clarus et ostro, spicula torquebat Lycio Gortynia cornu; aureus ex umeris erat arcus et aurea vati cassida; tum croceam chlamydemque sinusque crepantis carbaseos fulvo in nodum collegerat auro pictus acu tunicas et barbara tegmina crurum. Hunc virgo, sive ut templis praefigeret arma Troïa, captivo sive ut se ferret in auro venatrix, unum ex omni certamine pugnae caeca sequebatur totumque incauta per agmen
femineo praedae et spoliorum ardebat amore, telum ex insidiis cum tandem tempore capto concitat et superos Arruns sic voce precatur: Summe deum, sancti custos Soractis Apollo, quem primi colimus, cui pineus ardor acervo pascitur et medium freti pietate per ignem cultores multa premimus vestigia pruna, da, pater, hoc nostris aboleri dedecus armis, omnipotens. Non exuvias pulsaeve tropaeum virginis aut spolia ulla peto (mihi cetera laudem facta ferent): haec dira meo dum vulnere pestis pulsa cadat, patrias remeabo inglorius urbes.
Audiit et voti Phoebus succedere partem mente dedit, partem volucris dispersit in auras: sterneret ut subita turbatam morte Camillam, adnuit oranti; reducem ut patria alta videret, non dedit, inque Notos vocem vertere procellae. Ergo ut missa manu sonitum dedit hasta per auras, convertere animos acris oculosque tulere cuncti ad reginam Volsci. Nihil ipsa nec aurae nec sonitus memor aut venientis ab aethere teli, hasta sub exsertam donec perlata papillam haesit virgineumque alte bibit acta cruorem. Concurrunt trepidae comites dominamque ruentem
suscipiunt. Fugit ante omnis exterritus Arruns, laetitia mixtoque metu, nec iam amplius hastae credere nec telis occurrere virginis audet. Ac velut ille, prius quam tela inimica sequantur, continuo in montis sese avius abdidit altos occiso pastore lupus magnove iuvenco, conscius audacis facti, caudamque remulcens subiecit pavitantem utero silvasque petivit: haud secus ex oculis se turbidus abstulit Arruns contentusque fuga mediis se immiscuit armis. Illa manu moriens telum trahit, ossa sed inter ferreus ad costas alto stat vulnere mucro:
labitur exsanguis, labuntur frigida leto lumina, purpureus quondam color ora reliquit. Tum sic exspirans Accam ex aequalibus unam adloquitur fidam ante alias, quae sola Camillae, quicum partiri curas; atque haec ita fatur: Hactenus, Acca soror, potui: nunc vulnus acerbum conficit, et tenebris nigrescunt omnia circum. Effuge et haec Turno mandata novissima perfer: succedat pugnae Troianosque arceat urbe. Iamque vale. Simul his dictis linquebat habenas, ad terram non sponte fluens. Tum frigida toto paulatim exsolvit se corpore lentaque colla
et captum leto posuit caput, arma relinquunt, vitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras. Tum vero immensus surgens ferit aurea clamor sidera: deiecta crudescit pugna Camilla, incurrunt densi simul omnis copia Teucrum Tyrrhenique duces Evandrique Arcades alae. At Triviae custos iamdudum in montibus Opis alta sedet summis spectatque interrita pugnas. Utque procul medio iuvenum in clamore furentum prospexit tristi multatam morte Camillam, ingemuitque deditque has imo pectore voces: Heu nimium, virgo, nimium crudele luisti
supplicium, Teucros conata lacessere bello! Nec tibi desertae in dumis coluisse Dianam profuit aut nostras umero gessisse sagittas. Non tamen indecorem tua te regina reliquit extrema iam in morte, neque hoc sine nomine letum per gentis erit aut famam patieris inultae. Nam quicumque tuum violavit vulnere corpus, morte luet merita. Fuit ingens monte sub alto regis Dercenni terreno ex aggere bustum antiqui Laurentis opacaque ilice tectum: hic dea se primum rapido pulcherrima nisu sistit et Arruntem tumulo speculatur ab alto.
Ut vidit laetantem animis ac vana tumentem, Cur, inquit, diversus abis? Huc dirige gressum, huc periture veni, capias ut digna Camillae praemia. Tune etiam telis moriere Dianae? dixit, et aurata volucrem Threissa sagittam deprompsit pharetra cornuque infensa tetendit et duxit longe, donec curvata coirent inter se capita et manibus iam tangeret aequis, laeva aciem ferri, dextra nervoque papillam. Extemplo teli stridorem aurasque sonantis audiit una Arruns, haesitque in corpore ferrum. Illum exspirantem socii atque extrema gementem
obliti ignoto camporum in pulvere linquunt, Opis ad aetherium pennis aufertur Olympum. Prima fugit domina amissa levis ala Camillae; turbati fugiunt Rutuli, fugit acer Atinas disiectique duces desolatique manipli tuta petunt et equis aversi ad moenia tendunt. Nec quisquam instantis Teucros letumque ferentis sustentare valet telis aut sistere contra, sed laxos referunt umeris languentibus arcus, quadrupedumque putrem cursu quatit ungula campum. Volvitur ad muros caligine turbidus atra pulvis, et e speculis percussae pectora matres
femineum clamorem ad caeli sidera tollunt. Qui cursu portas primi inrupere patentis, hos inimica super mixto premit agmine turba; nec miseram effugiunt mortem, sed limine in ipso, moenibus in patriis atque inter tuta domorum confixi exspirant animas. Pars claudere portas: nec sociis aperire viam nec moenibus audent accipere orantis, oriturque miserrima caedes defendentum armis aditus inque arma ruentum. Exclusi ante oculos lacrumantumque ora parentum pars in praecipitis fossas urgente ruina volvitur, immissis pars caeca et concita frenis
arietat in portas et duros obice postis. Ipsae de muris summo certamine matres, monstrat amor verus patriae, ut videre Camillam, tela manu trepidae iaciunt ac robore duro stipitibus ferrum sudibusque imitantur obustis praecipites primaeque mori pro moenibus ardent. Interea Turnum in silvis saevissimus implet nuntius, et iuveni ingentem fert Acca tumultum: deletas Volscorum acies, cecidisse Camillam, ingruere infensos hostis et Marte secundo omnia corripuisse, metum iam ad moenia ferri. Ille furens, et saeva Iovis sic numina pellunt,
deserit obsessos collis, nemora aspera linquit. Vix e conspectu exierat campumque tenebat, cum pater Aeneas saltus ingressus apertos exsuperatque iugum silvaque evadit opaca. Sic ambo ad muros rapidi totoque feruntur agmine nec longis inter se passibus absunt; ac simul Aeneas fumantis pulvere campos prospexit longe Laurentiaque agmina vidit, et saevum Aenean adgnovit Turnus in armis adventumque pedum flatusque audivit equorum. Continuoque ineant pugnas et proelia temptent, ni roseus fessos iam gurgite Phoebus Hibero
tinguat equos noctemque die labente reducat: considunt castris ante urbem et moenia vallant.
Book 12
Turnus ut infractos adverso Marte Latinos defecisse videt, sua nunc promissa reposci, se signari oculis, ultro implacabilis ardet attollitque animos. Poenorum qualis in arvis saucius ille gravi venantum vulnere pectus tum demum movet arma leo gaudetque comantis excutiens cervice toros fixumque latronis inpavidus frangit telum et fremit ore cruento: haud secus adcenso gliscit violentia Turno. Tum sic adfatur regem atque ita turbidus infit: Nulla mora in Turno; nihil est quod dicta retractent ignavi Aeneadae, nec quae pepigere recusent.
Congredior, fer sacra, pater, et concipe foedus. Aut hac Dardanium dextra sub Tartara mittam, desertorem Asiae (sedeant spectentque Latini), et solus ferro crimen commune refellam, aut habeat victos, cedat Lavinia coniunx. Olli sedato respondit corde Latinus: O praestans animi iuvenis, quantum ipse feroci virtute exsuperas, tanto me impensius aequum est consulere atque omnis metuentem expendere casus. Sunt tibi regna patris Dauni, sunt oppida capta multa manu, nec non aurumque animusque Latino est; sunt aliae innuptae Latio et Laurentibus arvis,
nec genus indecores. Sine me haec haud mollia fatu sublatis aperire dolis, simul hoc animo hauri. Me natam nulli veterum sociare procorum fas erat, idque omnes divique hominesque canebant. Victus amore tui, cognato sanguine victus coniugis et maestae lacrumis, vincla omnia rupi: promissam eripui genero, arma impia sumpsi. Ex illo qui me casus, quae, Turne, sequantur bella, vides, quantos primus patiare labores. Bis magna victi pugna vix urbe tuemur spes Italas; recalent nostro Thybrina fluenta sanguine adhuc campique ingentes ossibus albent.
Quo referor totiens? Quae mentem insania mutat? Si Turno exstincto socios sum adscire paratus, cur non incolumi potius certamina tollo? Quid consanguinei Rutuli, quid cetera dicet Italia, ad mortem si te—Fors dicta refutet!— prodiderim, natam et conubia nostra petentem? Respice res bello varias; miserere parentis longaevi, quem nunc maestum patria Ardea longe dividit. Haudquaquam dictis violentia Turni flectitur: exsuperat magis aegrescitque medendo. Ut primum fari potuit, sic institit ore: Quam pro me curam geris, hanc precor, optime, pro me
deponas letumque sinas pro laude pacisci: et nos tela, pater, ferrumque haud debile dextra spargimus; et nostro sequitur de volnere sanguis. longe illi dea mater erit, quae nube fugacem feminea tegat et vanis sese occulat umbris. At regina, nova pugnae conterrita sorte, flebat et ardentem generum monitura tenebat: Turne, per has ego te lacrimas, per siquis Amatae tangit honos animum (spes tu nunc una, senectae tu requies miserae, decus imperiumque Latini te penes, in te omnis domus inclinata recumbit). unum oro: desiste manum committere Teucris.
Qui te cumque manent isto certamine casus, et me, Turne, manent: simul haec invisa relinquam lumina nec generum Aenean captiva videbo. Accepit vocem lacrimis Lavinia matris flagrantis perfusa genas, quoi plurimus ignem subiecit rubor et calefacta per ora cucurrit. Indum sanguineo veluti violaverit ostro siquis ebur, aut mixta rubent ubi lilia multa alba rosa: talis virgo dabat ore colores. Illum turbat amor, figitque in virgine voltus: ardet in arma magis paucisque adfatur Amatam. Ne, quaeso, ne me lacrimis neve omine tanto
prosequere in duri certamina Martis euntem, O mater; neque enim Turno mora libera mortis. Nuntius haec Idmon Phrygio mea dicta tyranno haud placitura refer: cum primum crastina caelo puniceis invecta rotis Aurora rubebit, non Teucros agat in Rutulos, Teucrum arma quiescant et Rutuli; nostro dirimamus sanguine bellum, illo quaeratur coniunx Lavinia campo. Haec ubi dicta dedit rapidusque in tecta recessit. poscit equos gaudetque tuens ante ora frementis, Pilumno quos ipsa decus dedit Orithyia, qui candore nives anteirent, cursibus auras.
Circumstant properi aurigae manibusque lacessunt pectora plausa cavis et colla comantia pectunt. Ipse dehinc auro squalentem alboque orichalco circumdat loricam umeris; simul aptat habendo ensemque clipeumque et rubrae cornua cristae. ensem, quem Dauno ignipotens deus ipse parenti fecerat et Stygia candentem tinxerat unda. Exin quae mediis ingenti adnixa columnae aedibus adstabat, validam vi corripit hastam, Actoris Aurunci spolium, quassatque trementem vociferans: Nunc, O numquam frustrata vocatus hasta meos, nunc tempus adest: te maximus Actor
te Turni nunc dextra gerit. Da sternere corpus loricamque manu valida lacerare revulsam semiviri Phrygis et foedare in pulvere crinis vibratos calido ferro murraque madentis. His agitur furiis; totoque ardentis ab ore scintillae absistunt, oculis micat acribus ignis: mugitus veluti cum prima in proelia taurus terrificos ciet atque irasci in cornua temptat, arboris obnixus trunco, ventosque lacessit ictibus aut sparsa ad pugnam proludit harena. Nec minus interea maternis saevos in armis Aeneas acuit Martem et se suscitat ira,
oblato gaudens componi foedere bellum, tum socios maestique metum solatur Iuli, fata docens, regique iubet responsa Latino certa referre viros et pacis dicere leges. Postera vix summos spargebat lumine montis orta dies, cum primum alto se gurgite tollunt solis equi lucemque elatis naribus efflant: campum ad certamen magnae sub moenibus urbis dimensi Rutulique viri Teucrique parabant in medioque focos et dis communibus aras gramineas. Alii fontemque ignemque ferebant, velati limo et verbena tempora vincti.
Procedit legio Ausonidum, pilataque plenis agmina se fundunt portis. Hinc Troïus omnis Tyrrhenusque ruit variis exercitus armis, haud secus instructi ferro, quam si aspera Martis pugna vocet; nec non mediis in milibus ipsi ductores auro volitant ostroque decori, et genus Assaraci Mnestheus et fortis Asilas et Messapus equum domitor, Neptunia proles. Utque dato signo spatia in sua quisque recessit, defigunt tellure hastas et scuta reclinant. Tum studio effusae matres et volgus inermum invalidique senes turris ac tecta domorum
obsedere, alii portis sublimibus adstant. At Iuno e summo, qui nunc Albanus habetur, tum neque nomen erat nec honos aut gloria monti, prospiciens tumulo campum aspectabat et ambas Laurentum Troumque acies urbemque Latini. Extemplo Turni sic est adfata sororem diva deam, stagnis quae fluminibusque sonoris praesidet (hunc illi rex aetheris altus honorem Iuppiter erepta pro virginitate sacravit): Nympha, decus fluviorum, animo gratissima nostro, scis ut te cunctis unam, quaecumque Latinae magnanimi Iovis ingratum ascendere cubile,
praetulerim caelique lubens in parte locarim: disce tuum, ne me incuses, Iuturna, dolorem. Qua visa est Fortuna pati Parcaeque sinebant cedere res Latio, Turnum et tua moenia texi: nunc iuvenem imparibus video concurrere fatis, Parcarumque dies et vis inimica propinquat. Non pugnam aspicere hanc oculis, non foedera possum. Tu pro germano siquid praesentius audes, perge: decet. Forsan miseros meliora sequentur. Vix ea, cum lacrimas oculis Iuturna profudit terque quaterque manu pectus percussit honestum. Non lacrumis hoc tempus, ait Saturnia Iuno:
Adcelera et fratrem, siquis modus, eripe morti, aut tu bella cie conceptumque excute foedus: auctor ego audendi. Sic exhortata reliquit incertam et tristi turbatam volnere mentis. Interea reges, ingenti mole Latinus quadriiugo vehitur curru, cui tempora circum aurati bis sex radii fulgentia cingunt, Solis avi specimen; bigis it Turnus in albis, bina manu lato crispans hastilia ferro; hinc pater Aeneas, Romanae stirpis origo, sidereo flagrans clipeo et caelestibus armis, et iuxta Ascanius, magnae spes altera Romae,
procedunt castris, puraque in veste sacerdos saetigeri fetum suis intonsamque bidentem adtulit admovitque pecus flagrantibus aris. Illi ad surgentem conversi lumina solem dant fruges manibus salsas et tempora ferro summa notant pecudum paterisque altaria libant. Tum pius Aeneas stricto sic ense precatur: Esto nunc Sol testis et haec mihi Terra vocanti, quam propter tantos potui perferre labores, et pater omnipotens et tu Saturnia coniunx, iam melior, iam, diva, precor, tuque inclute Mavors, cuncta tuo qui bella, pater, sub numine torques;
fontisque fluviosque voco, quaeque aetheris alti religio et quae caeruleo sunt numina ponto: cesserit Ausonio si fors victoria Turno, convenit Evandri victos discedere ad urbem, cedet Iulus agris, nec post arma ulla rebelles Aeneadae referent ferrove haec regna lacessent, sin nostrum adnuerit nobis Victoria Martem (ut potius reor et potius di numine firment), non ego nec Teucris Italos parere iubebo nec mihi regna peto: paribus se legibus ambae invictae gentes aeterna in foedera mittant. Sacra deosque dabo; socer arma Latinus habeto,
imperium sollemne socer; mihi moenia Teucri constituent, urbique dabit Lavinia nomen. Sic prior Aeneas; sequitur sic deinde Latinus suspiciens caelum tenditque ad sidera dextram: Haec eadem, Aenea, terram mare sidera iuro Latonaeque genus duplex Ianumque bifrontem vimque deum infernam et duri sacraria Ditis; audiat haec genitor, qui foedera fulmine sancit. Tango aras, medios ignis et numina testor: nulla dies pacem hanc Italis nec foedera rumpet, quo res cumque cadent; nec me vis ulla volentem avertet, non, si tellurem effundat in undas
diluvio miscens caelumque in Tartara solvat; ut sceptrum hoc (dextra sceptrum nam forte gerebat) numquam fronde levi fundet virgulta nec umbras, cum semel in silvis imo de stirpe recisum matre caret posuitque comas et bracchia ferro, olim arbos, nunc artificis manus aere decoro inclusit patribusque dedit gesture gestare Latinis. Talibus inter se firmabant foedera dictis conspectu in medio procerum. Tum rite sacratas in flammam iugulant pecudes et viscera vivis eripiunt cumulantque oneratis lancibus aras. At vero Rutulis inpar ea pugna videri
iamdudum et vario misceri pectora motu; tum magis, ut propius cernunt non viribus aequis. Adiuvat incessu tacito progressus et aram suppliciter venerans demisso lumine Turnus tabentesque genae et iuvenali in corpore pallor. Quem simul ac Iuturna soror crebrescere vidit sermonem et volgi variare labantia corda, in medias acies, formam adsimulata Camerti, cui genus a proavis ingens clarumque paternae nomen erat virtutis, et ipse acerrimus armis, in medias dat sese acies haud nescia rerum rumoresque serit varios ac talia fatur:
Non pudet, O Rutuli, pro cunctis talibus unam obiectare animam? Numerone an viribus aequi non sumus? En omnes et Troes et Arcades hi sunt fatalesque manus, infensa Etruria Turno: vix hostem, alterni si congrediamur, habemus. Ille quidem ad superos, quorum se devovet aris, succedet fama vivusque per ora feretur: nos patria amissa dominis parere superbis cogemur, qui nunc lenti consedimus arvis. Talibus incensa est iuvenum sententia dictis iam magis atque magis, serpitque per agmina murmur; ipsi Laurentes mutati ipsique Latini.
Qui sibi iam requiem pugnae rebusque salutem sperabant, nunc arma volunt foedusque precantur infectum et Turni sortem miserantur iniquam. His aliud maius Iuturna adiungit et alto dat signum caelo, quo non praesentius ullum turbavit mentes Italas monstroque fefellit. Namque volans rubra fulvus Iovis ales in aethra litoreas agitabat aves turbamque sonantem agminis aligeri, subito cum lapsus ad undas cycnum excellentem pedibus rapit improbus uncis. Adrexere animos Itali, cunctaeque volucres convertunt clamore fugam, mirabile visu,
aetheraque obscurant pennis hostemque per auras facta nube premunt, donec vi victus et ipso pondere defecit, praedamque ex unguibus ales proiecit fluvio penitusque in nubila fugit. Tum vero augurium Rutuli clamore salutant expediuntque manus; primusque Tolumnius augur Hoc erat, hoc, votis, inquit, quod saepe petivi. Adcipio adgnoscoque deos; me, me duce ferrum corripite, O miseri, quos improbus advena bello territat invalidas ut aves et litora vestra vi populat: petet ille fugam penitusque profundo vela dabit. Vos unanimi densete catervas
et regem vobis pugna defendite raptum. Dixit et adversos telum contorsit in hostis procurrens: sonitum dat stridula cornus et auras certa secat. Simul hoc, simul ingens clamor et omnes turbati cunei calefactaque corda tumultu. Hasta volans, ut forte novem pulcherrima fratrum corpora constiterant contra, quos fida crearat una tot Arcadio coniunx Tyrrhena Gylippo, horum unum ad medium, teritur qua sutilis alvo balteus et laterum iuncturas fibula mordet egregium forma iuvenem et fulgentibus armis transadigit costas fulvaque effundit harena.
At fratres, animosa phalanx accensaque luctu, pars, gladios stringunt manibus, pars missile ferrum corripiunt caecique ruunt. Quos agmina contra procurrunt Laurentum, hinc densi rursus inundant Troes Agyllinique et pictis Arcades armis: sic omnis amor unus habet decernere ferro. Diripuere aras, it toto turbida caelo tempestas telorum ac ferreus ingruit imber, craterasque focosque ferunt. Fugit ipse Latinus pulsatos referens infecto foedere divos. Infrenant alii currus aut corpora saltu subiciunt in equos et strictis ensibus adsunt.
Messapus regem regisque insigne gerentem, Tyrrhenum Aulesten, avidus confundere foedus, adverso proterret equo: ruit ille recedens et miser oppositis a tergo involvitur aris in caput inque umeros. At fervidus advolat hasta Messapus teloque orantem multa trabali desuper altus equo graviter ferit atque ita fatur: Hoc habet, haec melior magnis data victima divis. Concurrunt Itali spoliantque calentia membra. Obvius ambustum torrem Corynaeus ab ara corripit et venienti Ebuso plagamque ferenti occupat os flammis: olli ingens barba reluxit
nidoremque ambusta dedit. Super ipse secutus caesariem laeva turbati corripit hostis inpressoque genu nitens terrae adplicat ipsum: sic rigido latus ense ferit. Podalirius Alsum pastorem primaque acie per tela ruentem, ense sequens nudo superimminet: ille securi adversi frontem mediam mentumque reducta disicit et sparso late rigat arma cruore. Olli dura quies oculos et ferreus urget somnus, in aeternam conduntur lumina noctem. At pius Aeneas dextram tendebat inermem nudato capite atque suos clamore vocabat:
Quo ruitis? Quaeve ista repens discordia surgit? O cohibete iras! Ictum iam foedus et omnes compositae leges; mihi ius concurrere soli; me sinite atque auferte metus; ego foedera faxo firma manu; Turnum debent haec iam mihi sacra. Has inter voces, media inter talia verba ecce viro stridens alis adlapsa sagitta est incertum qua pulsa manu, quo turbine adacta, quis tantam Rutulis laudem, casusne deusne, adtulerit: pressa est insignis gloria facti. nec sese Aeneae iactavit vulnere quisquam. Turnus ut Aenean cedentem ex agmine vidit
turbatosque duces, subita spe fervidus ardet: poscit equos atque arma simul saltuque superbus emicat in currum et manibus molitur habenas. Multa virum volitans dat fortia corpora Leto, semineces volvit multos aut agmina curru proterit aut raptas fugientibus ingerit hastas. Qualis apud gelidi cum flumina concitus Hebri sanguineus Mavors clipeo increpat atque furentis bella movens immittit equos; illi aequore aperto ante Notos Zephyrumque volant; gemit ultima pulsu Thraca pedum; circumque atrae Formidinis ora Iraeque Insidiaeque, dei comitatus, aguntur:
talis equos alacer media inter proelia Turnus fumantis sudore quatit, miserabile caesis hostibus insultans; spargit rapida ungula rores sanguineos, mixtaque cruor calcatur harena. Iamque neci Sthenelumque dedit Thamyrumque Pholumque, hunc congressus et hunc, illum eminus; eminus ambo Imbrasidas, Glaucum atque Laden, quos Imbrasus ipse nutrierat Lycia paribusque ornaverat armis, vel conferre manum vel equo praevertere ventos. Parte alia media Eumedes in proelia fertur, antiqui proles bello praeclara Dolonis, nomine avum referens, animo manibusque parentem,
qui quondam, castra ut Danaum speculator adiret, ausus Pelidae pretium sibi poscere currus; illum Tydides alio pro talibus ausis adfecit pretio, nec equis adspirat Achillis. Hunc procul ut campo Turnus prospexit aperto, ante levi iaculo longum per inane secutus sistit equos biiugis et curru desilit atque semianimi lapsoque supervenit et pede collo impresso dextrae mucronem extorquet et alto fulgentem tinguit iugulo atque haec insuper addit: En agros et quam bello, Troiane, petisti, Hesperiam metire iacens: haec praemia qui me
ferro ausi temptare ferunt, sic moenia condunt. Huic comitem Asbyten coniecta cuspide mittit. Chloreaque Sybarimque Daretaque Thersilochumque et sternacis equi lapsum cervice Thymoeten. Ac velut Edoni Boreae cum spiritus alto insonat Aegaeo sequiturque ad litora fluctus, qua venti incubuere, fugam dant nubila caelo: sic Turno, quacumque viam secat, agmina cedunt conversaeque ruunt acies; fert impetus ipsum, et cristam adverso curru quatit aura volantem. Non tulit instantem Phegeus animisque frementem: obiecit sese ad currum et spumantia frenis
ora citatorum dextra detorsit equorum. Dum trahitur pendetque iugis, hunc lata retectum lancea consequitur rumpitque infixa bilicem loricam et summum degustat volnere corpus. Ille tamen clipeo obiecto conversus in hostem ibat et auxilium ducto mucrone petebat: cum rota praecipitem et procursu concitus axis impulit effunditque solo, Turnusque secutus imam inter galeam summi thoracis et oras abstulit ense caput truncumque reliquit harenae. Atque ea dum campis victor dat funera Turnus, interea Aenean Mnestheus et fidus Achates
Ascaniusque comes castris statuere cruentum, alternos longa nitentem cuspide gressus. Saevit et infracta luctatur arundine telum eripere auxilioque viam, quae proxima, poscit ense secent lato vulnus telique latebram rescindant penitus seseque in bella remittant. Iamque aderat Phoebo ante alios dilectus Iapyx Iasides, acri quondam cui captus amore ipse suas artes, sua munera, laetus Apollo augurium citharamque dabat celerisque sagittas. Ille ut depositi proferret fata parentis, scire potestates herbarum usumque medendi
maluit et mutas agitare inglorius artes. Stabat acerba fremens, ingentem nixus in hastam Aeneas magno iuvenum et maerentis Iuli concursu, lacrimis immobilis. Ille retorto Paeonium in morem senior succinctus amictu multa manu medica Phoebique potentibus herbis nequiquam trepidat, nequiquam spicula dextra sollicitat prensatque tenaci forcipe ferrum. Nulla viam Fortuna regit, nihil auctor Apollo subvenit; et saevus campis magis ac magis horror crebrescit propiusque malum est. Iam pulvere caelum stare vident: subeunt equites, et spicula castris
densa cadunt mediis. It tristis ad aethera clamor bellantum iuvenum et duro sub Marte cadentum. Hic Venus, indigno nati concussa dolore, dictamnum genetrix Cretaea carpit ab Ida, puberibus caulem foliis et flore comantem purpureo; non illa feris incognita capris gramina, cum tergo volucres haesere sagittae: hoc Venus, obscuro faciem circumdata nimbo, detulit; hoc fusum labris splendentibus amnem inficit occulte medicans spargitque salubris ambrosiae sucos et odoriferam panaceam. Fovit ea volnus lympha longaevus Iapyx
ignorans, subitoque omnis de corpore fugit quippe dolor, omnis stetit imo volnere sanguis; iamque secuta manum nullo cogente sagitta excidit, atque novae rediere in pristina vires. Arma citi properate viro! Quid statis? Iapyx conclamat primusque animos adcendit in hostem. Non haec humanis opibus, non arte magistra proveniunt neque te, Aenea, mea dextera servat: maior agit deus atque opera ad maiora remittit. Ille avidus pugnae suras incluserat auro hinc atque hinc oditque moras hastamque coruscat. Postquam habilis lateri clipeus loricaque tergo est,
Ascanium fusis circum complectitur armis summaque per galeam delibans oscula fatur: Disce, puer, virtutem ex me verumque laborem, fortunam ex aliis. Nunc te mea dextera bello defensum dabit et magna inter praemia ducet. Tu facito, mox cum matura adoleverit aetas, sis memor, et te animo repetentem exempla tuorum et pater Aeneas et avunculus excitet Hector. Haec ubi dicta dedit, portis sese extulit ingens, telum immane manu quatiens; simul agmine denso Antheusque Mnestheusque ruunt omnisque relictis turba fluit castris: tum caeco pulvere campus
miscetur pulsuque pedum tremit excita tellus. Vidit ab adverso venientis aggere Turnus, videre Ausonii, gelidusque per ima cucurrit ossa tremor: prima ante omnis Iuturna Latinos audiit adgnovitque sonum et tremefacta refugit. Ille volat campoque atrum rapit agmen aperto. Qualis ubi ad terras abrupto sidere nimbus it mare per medium; miseris heu praescia longe horrescunt corda agricolis, dabit ille ruinas arboribus stragemque satis, ruet omnia late; ante volant sonitumque ferunt ad litora venti: talis in adversos ductor Rhoeteius hostis
agmen agit, densi cuneis se quisque coactis adglomerant. Ferit ense gravem Thymbraeus Osirim, Archetium Mnestheus, Epulonem obtruncat Achates Ufentemque Gyas; cadit ipse Tolumnius augur, primus in adversos telum qui torserat hostis. Tollitur in caelum clamor, versique vicissim pulverulenta fuga Rutuli dant terga per agros. Ipse neque aversos dignatur sternere Morti nec pede congressos aequo nec tela ferentis insequitur: solum densa in caligine Turnum vestigat lustrans, solum in certamina poscit. Hoc concussa metu mentem Iuturna virago
aurigam Turni media inter lora Metiscum excutit et longe lapsum temone relinquit: ipsa subit manibusque undantis flectit habenas, cuncta gerens, vocemque et corpus et arma Metisci. Nigra velut magnas domini cum divitis aedes pervolat et pennis alta atria lustrat hirundo, pabula parva legens nidisque loquacibus escas, et nunc porticibus vacuis, nunc umida circum stagna sonat: similis medios Iuturna per hostis fertur equis rapidoque volans obit omnia curru iamque hic germanum iamque hic ostentat ovantem nec conferre manum patitur, volat avia longe.
Haud minus Aeneas tortos legit obvius orbes vestigatque virum et disiecta per agmina magna voce vocat. Quotiens oculos coniecit in hostem alipedumque fugam cursu temptavit equorum, aversos totiens currus Iuturna retorsit. Heu quid agat? Vario nequiquam fluctuat aestu, diversaeque vocant animum in contraria curae. Huic Messapus, uti laeva duo forte gerebat lenta levis cursu praefixa hastilia ferro, horum unum certo contorquens dirigit ictu. Substitit Aeneas et se collegit in arma, poplite subsidens; apicem tamen incita summum
hasta tulit summasque excussit vertice cristas. Tum vero adsurgunt irae; insidiisque subactus, diversos ubi sensit equos currumque referri, multa Iovem et laesi testatus foederis aras iam tandem invadit medios et Marte secundo terribilis saevam nullo discrimine caedem suscitat irarumque omnis effundit habenas. Quis mihi nunc tot acerba deus, quis carmine caedes diversas obitumque ducum, quos aequore toto inque vicem nunc Turnus agit, nunc Troius heros, expediat? Tanton placuit concurrere motu, Iuppiter, aeterna gentis in pace futuras?
Aeneas Rutulum Sucronem, ea prima ruentis pugna loco statuit Teucros, haud multa morantem excipit in latus et, qua fata celerrima, crudum transadigit costas et cratis pectoris ensem. Turnus equo deiectum Amycum fratremque Dioren, congressus pedes, hunc venientem cuspide longa, hunc mucrone ferit curruque abscisa duorum suspendit capita et rorantia sanguine portat. Ille Talon Tanaimque neci fortemque Cethegum, tris uno congressu, et maestum mittit Oniten, nomen Echionium matrisque genus Peridiae, hic fratres Lycia missos et Apollinis agris
et iuvenem exosum nequiquam bella Menoeten, Arcada, piscosae cui circum flumina Lernae ars fuerat pauperque domus nec nota potentum munera conductaque pater tellure serebat. Ac velut immissi diversis partibus ignes arentem in silvam et virgulta sonantia lauro, aut ubi decursu rapido de montibus altis dant sonitum spumosi amnes et in aequora currunt quisque suum populatus iter: non segnius ambo Aeneas Turnusque ruunt per proelia; nunc nunc fluctuat ira intus, rumpuntur nescia vinci pectora, nunc totis in volnera viribus itur.
Murranum hic, atavos et avorum antiqua sonantem nomina per regesque actum genus omne Latinos, praecipitem scopulo atque ingentis turbine saxi excutit effunditque solo: hunc lora et iuga subter provolvere rotae, crebro super ungula pulsu incita nec domini memorum proculcat equorum. Ille ruenti Hyllo animisque immane frementi occurrit telumque aurata ad tempora torquet: olli per galeam fixo stetit hasta cerebro. Dextera nec tua te, Graium fortissime Cretheu eripuit Turno. Nec di texere Cupencum Aenea veniente sui: dedit obvia ferro
pectora, nec misero clipei mora profuit aerei. Te quoque Laurentes viderunt, Aeole, campi oppetere et late terram consternere tergo. Occidis, Argivae quem non potuere phalanges sternere nec Priami regnorum eversor Achilles; hic tibi mortis erant metae: domus alta sub Ida, Lyrnesi domus alta, solo Laurente sepulchrum. Totae adeo conversae acies, omnesque Latini, omnes Dardanidae, Mnestheus acerque Serestus et Messapus equum domitor et fortis Asilas Tuscorumque phalanx Evandrique Arcades alae, pro se quisque viri summa nituntur opum vi:
nec mora nec requies, vasto certamine tendunt. Hic mentem Aeneae genetrix pulcherrima misit, iret ut ad muros urbique adverteret agmen ocius et subita turbaret clade Latinos. Ille ut vestigans diversa per agmina Turnum huc atque huc acies circumtulit, aspicit urbem immunem tanti belli atque impune quietam. Continuo pugnae adcendit maioris imago: Mnesthea Sergestumque vocat fortemque Serestum ductores tumulumque capit, quo cetera Teucrum concurrit legio nec scuta aut spicula densi deponunt. Celso medius stans aggere fatur:
Nequa meis esto dictis mora; Iuppiter hac stat, neu quis ob inceptum subitum mihi segnior ito. Urbem hodie, causam belli, regna ipsa Latini, ni frenum accipere et victi parere fatentur, eruam et aequa solo fumantia culmina ponam. Scilicet exspectem, libeat dum proelia Turno nostra pati rursusque velit concurrere victus? Hoc caput, O cives, haec belli summa nefandi: ferte faces propere foedusque reposcite flammis. Dixerat, atque animis pariter certantibus omnes dant cuneum densaque ad muros mole feruntur. Scalae improviso subitusque apparuit ignis.
Discurrunt alii ad portas primosque trucidant, ferrum alii torquent et obumbrant aethera telis. Ipse inter primos dextram sub moenia tendit Aeneas magnaque incusat voce Latinum testaturque deos, iterum se ad proelia cogi, bis iam Italos hostis, haec altera foedera rumpi. Exoritur trepidos inter discordia civis: urbem alii reserare iubent et pandere portas Dardanidis ipsumque trahunt in moenia regem, arma ferunt alii et pergunt defendere muros. Inclusas ut cum latebroso in pumice pastor vestigavit apes fumoque implevit amaro:
illae intus trepidae rerum per cerea castra discurrunt magnisque acuunt stridoribus iras; volvitur ater odor tectis, tum murmure caeco intus saxa sonant, vacuas it fumus ad auras. Accidit haec fessis etiam fortuna Latinis, quae totam luctu concussit funditus urbem. Regina ut tectis venientem prospicit hostem, incessi muros, ignis ad tecta volare, nusquam acies contra Rutulas, nulla agmina Turni: infelix pugnae iuvenem in certamine credit exstinctum et, subito mentem turbata dolore, se causam clamat crimenque caputque malorum,
multaque per maestum demens effata furorem purpureos moritura manu discindit amictus et nodum informis leti trabe nectit ab alta. Quam cladem miserae postquam accepere Latinae, filia prima manu flavos Lavinia crinis et roseas laniata genas, tum cetera circum turba furit: resonant late plangoribus aedes. Hinc totam infelix volgatur fama per urbem. Demittunt mentes; it scissa veste Latinus, coniugis attonitus fatis urbisque ruina, canitiem immundo perfusam pulvere turpans. Interea extremo bellator in aequore Turnus
palantis sequitur paucos iam segnior atque iam minus atque minus successu laetus equorum attulit hunc illi caecis terroribus aura commixtum clamorem adrectasque impulit aures confusae sonus urbis et inlaetabile murmur. Ei mihi! Quid tanto turbantur moenia luctu? Quisve ruit tantus diversa clamor ab urbe? Sic ait adductisque amens subsistit habenis. Atque huic, in faciem soror ut conversa Metisci aurigae currumque et equos et lora regebat, talibus occurrit dictis: Hac, Turne, sequamur Troiugenas, qua prima viam victoria pandit;
sunt alii, qui tecta manu defendere possint. Ingruit Aeneas Italis et proelia miscet: et nos saeva manu mittamus funera Teucris. Nec numero inferior pugnae nec honore recedes. Turnus ad haec: O soror, et dudum adgnovi, cum prima per artem foedera turbasti teque haec in bella dedisti, et nunc nequiquam fallis dea. Sed quis Olympo demissam tantos voluit te ferre labores? An fratris miseri letum ut crudele videres? Nam quid ago? Aut quae iam spondet Fortuna salutem? Vidi oculos ante ipse meos me voce vocantem
Murranum, quo non superat mihi carior alter, oppetere ingentem atque ingenti volnere victum. Occidit infelix nostrum ne dedecus Ufens adspiceret; Teucri potiuntur corpore et armis. Exscindine domos (id rebus defuit unum) perpetiar, dextra nec Drancis dicta refellam? Terga dabo et Turnum fugientem haec terra videbit? Usque adeone mori miserum est? Vos O mihi Manes este boni, quoniam superis aversa voluntas! Sancta ad vos anima atque istius nescia culpae descendam, magnorum haud umquam indignus avorum. Vix ea fatus erat: medios volat ecce per hostis
vectus equo spumante Saces, adversa sagitta saucius ora, ruitque implorans nomine Turnum: Turne, in te suprema salus: miserere tuorum. Fulminat Aeneas armis summasque minatur deiecturum arces Italum exscidioque daturum; iamque faces ad tecta volant. In te ora Latini, in te oculos referunt; mussat rex ipse Latinus, quos generos vocet aut quae sese ad foedera flectat. Praeterea regina, tui fidissima, dextra occidit ipsa sua lucemque exterrita fugit. Soli pro portis Messapus et acer Atinas sustentant aciem. Circum hos utrimque phalanges
stant densae, strictisque seges mucronibus horret ferrea: tu currum deserto in gramine versas. Obstipuit varia confusus imagine rerum Turnus et obtutu tacito stetit. Aestuat ingens uno in corde pudor mixtoque insania luctu et furiis agitatus amor et conscia virtus. Ut primum discussae umbrae et lux reddita menti, ardentis oculorum orbes ad moenia torsit turbidus eque rotis magnam respexit ad urbem. Ecce autem flammis inter tabulata volutus ad caelum undabat vortex turrimque tenebat, turrim, compactis trabibus quam eduxerat ipse
subdideratque rotas pontisque instraverat altos. Iam iam fata, soror, superant; absiste morari; quo deus et quo dura vocat Fortuna, sequamur. Stat conferre manum Aeneae, stat quidquid acerbi est morte pati; neque me indecorem, germana, videbis amplius. Hunc, oro, sine me furere ante furorem. Dixit et e curru saltum dedit ocius arvis perque hostis, per tela ruit maestamque sororem deserit ac rapido cursu media agmina rumpit. Ac veluti montis saxum de vertice praeceps cum ruit avulsum vento, seu turbidus imber proluit aut annis solvit sublapsa vetustas;
fertur in abruptum magno mons improbus actu exsultatque solo, silvas armenta virosque involvens secum: disiecta per agmina Turnus sic urbis ruit ad muros, ubi plurima fuso sanguine terra madet striduntque hastilibus aurae, significatque manu et magno simul incipit ore: Parcite iam, Rutuli, et vos tela inhibete, Latini; quaecumque est Fortuna, mea est: me verius unum pro vobis foedus luere et decernere ferro. Discessere omnes medii spatiumque dedere. At pater Aeneas audito nomine Turni deserit et muros et summas deserit arces
praecipitatque moras omnis, opera omnia rumpit, laetitia exsultans, horrendumque intonat armis; quantus Athos aut quantus Eryx aut ipse coruscis cum fremit ilicibus quantus gaudetque nivali vertice se attollens pater Appenninus ad auras. Iam vero et Rutuli certatim et Troes et omnes convertere oculos Itali, quique alta tenebant moenia quique imos pulsabant ariete muros, armaque deposuere umeris. Stupet ipse Latinus ingentis, genitos diversis partibus orbis, inter se coiisse viros et cernere ferro. Atque illi, ut vacuo patuerunt aequore campi,
procursu rapido, coniectis eminus hastis, invadunt Martem clipeis atque aere sonoro. Dat gemitum tellus; tum crebros ensibus ictus congeminant: fors et virtus miscentur in unum. Ac velut ingenti Sila summove Taburno cum duo conversis inimica in proelia tauri frontibus incurrunt; pavidi cessere magistri, stat pecus omne metu mutum mussantque iuvencae, quis nemori imperitet, quem tota armenta sequantur; illi inter sese multa vi volnera miscent cornuaque obnixi infigunt et sanguine largo colla armosque lavant; gemitu nemus omne remugit:
non alitur Tros Aeneas et Daunius heros concurrunt clipeis; ingens fragor aethera complet. Iuppiter ipse duas aequato examine lances sustinet et fata imponit diversa duorum, quem damnet labor et quo vergat pondere letum; Emicat hic, impune putans, et corpore toto alte sublatum consurgit Turnus in ensem et ferit: exclamant Troes trepidique Latini, arrectaeque amborum acies. At perfidus ensis frangitur in medioque ardentem deserit ictu [...] ni fuga subsidio subeat. Fugit ocior euro, ut capulum ignotum dextramque aspexit inermem.
Fama est praecipitem, cum prima in proelia iunctos conscendebat equos, patrio mucrone relicto, dum trepidat, ferrum aurigae rapuisse Metisci. Idque diu, dum terga dabant palantia Teucri, suffecit: postquam arma dei ad Volcania ventumst, mortalis mucro glacies ceu futilis ictu dissiluit; fulva resplendent fragmina harena. Ergo amens diversa fuga petit aequora Turnus et nunc huc, inde huc incertos implicat orbes undique enim densa Teucri inclusere corona, atque hinc vasta palus, hinc ardua moenia cingunt. Nec minus Aeneas, quamquam tardata sagitta
interdum genua impediunt cursumque recusant, insequitur trepidique pedem pede fervidus urget: inclusum veluti siquando flumine nanctus cervum aut puniceae saeptum formidine pinnae venator cursu canis et latratibus instat; ille autem, insidiis et ripa territus alta, mille fugit refugitque vias; at vividus Umber haeret hians, iam iamque tenet similisque tenenti increpuit malis morsuque elusus inani est. Tum vero exoritur clamor, ripaeque lacusque responsant circa et caelum tonat omne tumultu. Ille simul fugiens Rutulos simul increpat omnis,
nomine quemque vocans, notumque efflagitat ensem. Aeneas mortem contra praesensque minatur exitium, si quisquam adeat, terretque trementis excisurum urbem minitans et saucius instat. Quinque orbis explent cursu totidemque retexunt huc illuc; neque enim levia aut ludicra petuntur praemia, sed Turni de vita et sanguine certant. Forte sacer Fauno foliis oleaster amaris hic steterat, nautis olim venerabile lignum, servati ex undis ubi figere dona solebant Laurenti divo et votas suspendere vestes, sed stirpem Teucri nullo discrimine sacrum
sustulerant, puro ut possent concurrere campo. Hic hasta Aeneae stabat, huc impetus illam detulerat fixam et lenta in radice tenebat. Incubuit voluitque manu convellere ferrum Dardanides teloque sequi, quem prendere cursu non poterat. Tum vero amens formidine Turnus Faune, precor, miserere, inquit, tuque optima ferrum terra tene, colui vestros si semper honores, quos contra Aeneadae bello fecere profanos. Dixit opemque dei non cassa in vota vocavit. Namque diu luctans lentoque in stirpe moratus viribus haud ullis valuit discludere morsus
roboris Aeneas. Dum nititur acer et instat, rursus in aurigae faciem mutata Metisci procurrit fratrique ensem dea Daunia reddit. Quod Venus audaci nymphae indignata licere adcessit telumque alta ab radice revellit. Olli sublimes armis animisque refecti, hic gladio fidens, hic acer et arduus hasta, adsistunt contra certamina Martis anheli. Iunonem interea rex omnipotentis Olympi adloquitur fulva pugnas de nube tuentem: Qua iam finis erit, coniunx? Quid denique restat? Indigetem Aenean scis ipsa et scire fateris
deberi caelo fatisque ad sidera tolli. Quid struis, aut qua spe gelidis in nubibus haeres? Mortalin decuit violari volnere divom, aut ensem (quid enim sine te Iuturna valeret?) ereptum reddi Turno et vim crescere victis? Desine iam tandem precibusque inflectere nostris, ventum ad supremum est. Terris agitare vel undis Troianos potuisti, infandum adcendere bellum, deformare domum et luctu miscere hymenaeos: ulterius temptare veto. Sic Iuppiter orsus; sic dea submisso contra Saturnia voltu: Ista quidem quia nota mihi tua, magne, voluntas,
Iuppiter, et Turnum et terras invita reliqui; nec tu me aeria solam nunc sede videres digna indigna pati, sed flammis cincta sub ipsa starem acie traheremque inimica in proelia Teucros. Iuturnam misero, fateor, succurrere fratri suasi et pro vita maiora audere probavi, non ut tela tamen, non ut contenderet arcum: adiuro Stygii caput implacabile fontis, una superstitio superis quae reddita divis. Et nunc cedo equidem pugnasque exosa relinquo. Illud te, nulla fati quod lege tenetur, pro Latio obtestor, pro maiestate tuorum:
cum iam conubis pacem felicibus, esto, component, cum iam leges et foedera iungent, ne vetus indigenas nomen mutare Latinos neu Troas fieri iubeas Teucrosque vocari aut vocem mutare viros aut vertere vestem. Sit Latium, sint Albani per saecula reges, sit Romana potens Itala virtute propago: occidit, occideritque sinas cum nomine Troia. Olli subridens hominum rerumque repertor Es germana Iovis Saturnique altera proles: irarum tantos volvis sub pectore fluctus. Verum age et inceptum frustra submitte furorem
do quod vis, et me victusque volensque remitto. Sermonem Ausonii patrium moresque tenebunt, utque est nomen erit; commixti corpore tantum subsident Teucri. Morem ritusque sacrorum adiciam faciamque omnis uno ore Latinos. Hinc genus Ausonio mixtum quod sanguine surget, supra homines, supra ire deos pietate videbis, nec gens ulla tuos aeque celebrabit honores. Adnuit his Iuno et mentem laetata retorsit. Interea excedit caelo nubemque relinquit. His actis aliud genitor secum ipse volutat Iuturnamque parat fratris dimittere ab armis.
Dicuntur geminae pestes cognomine Dirae, quas et Tartaream Nox intempesta Megaeram uno eodemque tulit partu paribusque revinxit serpentum spiris ventosasque addidit alas. Hae Iovis ad solium saevique in limine regis adparent acuuntque metum mortalibus aegris, siquando letum horrificum morbosque deum rex molitur meritas aut bello territat urbes. Harum unam celerem demisit ab aethere summo Iuppiter inque omen Iuturnae occurrere iussit. Illa volat celerique ad terram turbine fertur. Non secus ac nervo per nubem impulsa sagitta,
armatam saevi Parthus quam felle veneni, Parthus sive Cydon, telum immedicabile, torsit, stridens et celeris incognita transilit umbras: talis se sata Nocte tulit terrasque petivit. Postquam acies videt Iliacas atque agmina Turni, alitis in parvae subitam conlecta figuram, quae quondam in bustis aut culminibus desertis nocte sedens serum canit importuna per umbras, hanc versa in faciem Turni se pestis ob ora fertque refertque sonans clipeumque everberat alis. Olli membra novus solvit formidine torpor, adrectaeque horrore comae, et vox faucibus haesit.
At procul ut Dirae stridorem adgnovit et alas, infelix crinis scindit Iuturna solutos, unguibus ora soror foedans et pectora pugnis: Quid nunc te tua, Turne, potest germana iuvare? Aut quid iam durae superat mihi? Qua tibi lucem arte morer? Talin possum me opponere monstro? Iam iam linquo acies. Ne me terrete timentem, obscenae volucres: alarum verbera nosco letalemque sonum, nec fallunt iussa superba magnanimi Iovis. Haec pro virginitate reponit? Quo vitam dedit aeternam? Cur mortis ademptast condicio? Possem tantos finire dolores
nunc certe et misero fratri comes ire per umbras! Immortalis ego? Aut quicquam mihi dulce meorum te sine, frater, erit? O quae satis ima dehiscet terra mihi Manisque deam demittet ad imos? Tantum effata caput glauco contexit amictu multa gemens et se fluvio dea condidit alto. Aeneas instat contra telumque coruscat ingens arboreum et saevo sic pectore fatur: Quae nunc deinde mora est? Aut quid iam, Turne, retractas? Non cursu, saevis certandum est comminus armis. Verte omnis tete in facies et contrahe quidquid sive animis sive arte vales; opta ardua pennis
astra sequi clausumve cava te condere terra. Ille caput quassans Non me tua fervida terrent dicta, ferox: di me terrent et Iuppiter hostis. Nec plura effatus saxum circumspicit ingens, saxum antiquum ingens, campo quod forte iacebat, limes agro positus, litem ut discerneret arvis. Vix illud lecti bis sex cervice subirent, qualia nunc hominum producit corpora tellus: ille manu raptum trepida torquebat in hostem altior insurgens et cursu concitus heros. Sed neque currentem se nec cognoscit euntem tollentemve manus saxumve immane moventem;
genua labant, gelidus concrevit frigore sanguis. Tum lapis ipse viri, vacuum per inane volutus, nec spatium evasit totum neque pertulit ictum. Ac velut in somnis, oculos ubi languida pressit nocte quies, nequiquam avidos extendere cursus velle videmur et in mediis conatibus aegri succidimus, non lingua valet, non corpore notae sufficiunt vires, nec vox aut verba sequuntur: sic Turno, quacumque viam virtute petivit, successum dea dira negat. Tum pectore sensus vertuntur varii. Rutulos aspectat et urbem cunctaturque metu letumque instare tremescit;
nec quo se eripiat, nec qua vi tendat in hostem, nec currus usquam videt aurigamve sororem. Cunctanti telum Aeneas fatale coruscat, sortitus fortunam oculis, et corpore toto eminus intorquet. Murali concita numquam tormento sic saxa fremunt, nec fulmine tanti dissultant crepitus. Volat atri turbinis instar exitium dirum hasta ferens orasque recludit loricae et clipei extremos septemplicis orbes. Per medium stridens transit femur. Incidit ictus ingens ad terram duplicato poplite Turnus. Consurgunt gemitu Rutuli, totusque remugit
mons circum, et vocem late nemora alta remittunt. Ille humilis supplexque oculos, dextramque precantem protendens, Equidem merui nec deprecor, inquit: utere sorte tua. Miseri te siqua parentis tangere cura potest, oro (fuit et tibi talis Anchises genitor), Dauni miserere senectae et me seu corpus spoliatum lumine mavis redde meis. Vicisti, et victum tendere palmas Ausonii videre; tua est Lavinia coniunx: ulterius ne tende odiis. Stetit acer in armis Aeneas, volvens oculos, dextramque repressit; et iam iamque magis cunctantem flectere sermo
coeperat, infelix umero cum apparuit alto balteus et notis fulserunt cingula bullis Pallantis pueri, victum quem volnere Turnus straverat atque umeris inimicum insigne gerebat. Ille, oculis postquam saevi monimenta doloris exuviasque hausit, furiis accensus et ira terribilis, Tune hinc spoliis indute meorum eripiare mihi? Pallas te hoc volnere, Pallas immolat et poenam scelerato ex sanguine sumit, hoc dicens ferrum adverso sub pectore condit fervidus. Ast illi solvuntur frigore membra vitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras.
Georgics
Book 1
What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer; What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;— Such are my themes. O universal lights Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild, If by your bounty holpen earth once changed Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear, And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift, The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing. And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke, Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes, The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power, Thy native forest and Lycean lawns, Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too, Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough; And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn, Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses, Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse The tender unsown increase, and from heaven Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain: And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon, Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will, Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge, That so the mighty world may welcome thee Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow, Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come, Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son With all her waves for dower; or as a star Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer, Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt— For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king, Nor may so dire a lust of sovereignty
E'er light upon thee, howso Greece admire Elysium's fields, and Proserpine not heed Her mother's voice entreating to return— Vouchsafe a prosperous voyage, and smile on this My bold endeavour, and pitying, even as I, These poor way-wildered swains, at once begin, Grow timely used unto the voice of prayer. In early spring-tide, when the icy drip Melts from the mountains hoar, and Zephyr's breath Unbinds the crumbling clod, even then 'tis time; Press deep your plough behind the groaning ox, And teach the furrow-burnished share to shine.
That land the craving farmer's prayer fulfils, Which twice the sunshine, twice the frost has felt; Ay, that's the land whose boundless harvest-crops Burst, see! the barns. But ere our metal cleave An unknown surface, heed we to forelearn The winds and varying temper of the sky, The lineal tilth and habits of the spot, What every region yields, and what denies. Here blithelier springs the corn, and here the grape, There earth is green with tender growth of trees And grass unbidden. See how from Tmolus comes The saffron's fragrance, ivory from Ind,
From Saba's weakling sons their frankincense, Iron from the naked Chalybs, castor rank From Pontus, from Epirus the prize-palms O' the mares of Elis. Such the eternal bond And such the laws by Nature's hand imposed On clime and clime, e'er since the primal dawn When old Deucalion on the unpeopled earth Cast stones, whence men, a flinty race, were reared. Up then! if fat the soil, let sturdy bulls Upturn it from the year's first opening months, And let the clods lie bare till baked to dust By the ripe suns of summer; but if the earth
Less fruitful just ere Arcturus rise With shallower trench uptilt it—'twill suffice; There, lest weeds choke the crop's luxuriance, here, Lest the scant moisture fail the barren sand. Then thou shalt suffer in alternate years The new-reaped fields to rest, and on the plain A crust of sloth to harden; or, when stars Are changed in heaven, there sow the golden grain Where erst, luxuriant with its quivering pod, Pulse, or the slender vetch-crop, thou hast cleared, And lupin sour, whose brittle stalks arise, A hurtling forest. For the plain is parched
By flax-crop, parched by oats, by poppies parched In Lethe-slumber drenched. Nathless by change The travailing earth is lightened, but stint not With refuse rich to soak the thirsty soil, And shower foul ashes o'er the exhausted fields. Thus by rotation like repose is gained, Nor earth meanwhile uneared and thankless left. Oft, too, 'twill boot to fire the naked fields, And the light stubble burn with crackling flames; Whether that earth therefrom some hidden strength And fattening food derives, or that the fire Bakes every blemish out, and sweats away
Each useless humour, or that the heat unlocks New passages and secret pores, whereby Their life-juice to the tender blades may win; Or that it hardens more and helps to bind The gaping veins, lest penetrating showers, Or fierce sun's ravening might, or searching blast Of the keen north should sear them. Well, I wot, He serves the fields who with his harrow breaks The sluggish clods, and hurdles osier-twined Hales o'er them; from the far Olympian height Him golden Ceres not in vain regards; And he, who having ploughed the fallow plain
And heaved its furrowy ridges, turns once more Cross-wise his shattering share, with stroke on stroke The earth assails, and makes the field his thrall. Pray for wet summers and for winters fine, Ye husbandmen; in winter's dust the crops Exceedingly rejoice, the field hath joy; No tilth makes Mysia lift her head so high, Nor Gargarus his own harvests so admire. Why tell of him, who, having launched his seed, Sets on for close encounter, and rakes smooth The dry dust hillocks, then on the tender corn Lets in the flood, whose waters follow fain;
And when the parched field quivers, and all the blades Are dying, from the brow of its hill-bed, See! see! he lures the runnel; down it falls, Waking hoarse murmurs o'er the polished stones, And with its bubblings slakes the thirsty fields? Or why of him, who lest the heavy ears O'erweigh the stalk, while yet in tender blade Feeds down the crop's luxuriance, when its growth First tops the furrows? Why of him who drains The marsh-land's gathered ooze through soaking sand, Chiefly what time in treacherous moons a stream Goes out in spate, and with its coat of slime
Holds all the country, whence the hollow dykes Sweat steaming vapour? But no whit the more For all expedients tried and travail borne By man and beast in turning oft the soil, Do greedy goose and Strymon-haunting cranes And succory's bitter fibres cease to harm, Or shade not injure. The great Sire himself No easy road to husbandry assigned, And first was he by human skill to rouse The slumbering glebe, whetting the minds of men With care on care, nor suffering realm of his
In drowsy sloth to stagnate. Before Jove Fields knew no taming hand of husbandmen; To mark the plain or mete with boundary-line— Even this was impious; for the common stock They gathered, and the earth of her own will All things more freely, no man bidding, bore. He to black serpents gave their venom-bane, And bade the wolf go prowl, and ocean toss; Shooed from the leaves their honey, put fire away, And curbed the random rivers running wine, That use by gradual dint of thought on thought Might forge the various arts, with furrow's help
The corn-blade win, and strike out hidden fire From the flint's heart. Then first the streams were ware Of hollowed alder-hulls: the sailor then Their names and numbers gave to star and star, Pleiads and Hyads, and Lycaon's child Bright Arctos; how with nooses then was found To catch wild beasts, and cozen them with lime, And hem with hounds the mighty forest-glades. Soon one with hand-net scourges the broad stream, Probing its depths, one drags his dripping toils Along the main; then iron's unbending might, And shrieking saw-blade,—for the men of old
With wedges wont to cleave the splintering log;— Then divers arts arose; toil conquered all, Remorseless toil, and poverty's shrewd push In times of hardship. Ceres was the first Set mortals on with tools to turn the sod, When now the awful groves 'gan fail to bear Acorns and arbutes, and her wonted food Dodona gave no more. Soon, too, the corn Gat sorrow's increase, that an evil blight Ate up the stalks, and thistle reared his spines An idler in the fields; the crops die down; Upsprings instead a shaggy growth of burrs
And caltrops; and amid the corn-fields trim Unfruitful darnel and wild oats have sway. Wherefore, unless thou shalt with ceaseless rake The weeds pursue, with shouting scare the birds, Prune with thy hook the dark field's matted shade, Pray down the showers, all vainly thou shalt eye, Alack! thy neighbour's heaped-up harvest-mow, And in the greenwood from a shaken oak Seek solace for thine hunger. Now to tell The sturdy rustics' weapons, what they are, Without which, neither can be sown nor reared
The fruits of harvest; first the bent plough's share And heavy timber, and slow-lumbering wains Of the Eleusinian mother, threshing-sleighs And drags, and harrows with their crushing weight; Then the cheap wicker-ware of Celeus old, Hurdles of arbute, and thy mystic fan, Iacchus; which, full tale, long ere the time Thou must with heed lay by, if thee await Not all unearned the country's crown divine. While yet within the woods, the elm is tamed And bowed with mighty force to form the stock, And take the plough's curved shape, then nigh the root
A pole eight feet projecting, earth-boards twain, And share-beam with its double back they fix. For yoke is early hewn a linden light, And a tall beech for handle, from behind To turn the car at lowest: then o'er the hearth The wood they hang till the smoke knows it well. Many the precepts of the men of old I can recount thee, so thou start not back, And such slight cares to learn not weary thee. And this among the first: thy threshing-floor With ponderous roller must be levelled smooth, And wrought by hand, and fixed with binding chalk,
Lest weeds arise, or dust a passage win Splitting the surface, then a thousand plagues Make sport of it: oft builds the tiny mouse Her home, and plants her granary, underground, Or burrow for their bed the purblind moles, Or toad is found in hollows, and all the swarm Of earth's unsightly creatures; or a huge Corn-heap the weevil plunders, and the ant, Fearful of coming age and penury. Mark too, what time the walnut in the woods With ample bloom shall clothe her, and bow down Her odorous branches, if the fruit prevail,
Like store of grain will follow, and there shall come A mighty winnowing-time with mighty heat; But if the shade with wealth of leaves abound, Vainly your threshing-floor will bruise the stalks Rich but in chaff. Many myself have seen Steep, as they sow, their pulse-seeds, drenching them With nitre and black oil-lees, that the fruit Might swell within the treacherous pods, and they Make speed to boil at howso small a fire. Yet, culled with caution, proved with patient toil, These have I seen degenerate, did not man Put forth his hand with power, and year by year
Choose out the largest. So, by fate impelled, Speed all things to the worse, and backward borne Glide from us; even as who with struggling oars Up stream scarce pulls a shallop, if he chance His arms to slacken, lo! with headlong force The current sweeps him down the hurrying tide. Us too behoves Arcturus' sign observe, And the Kids' seasons and the shining Snake, No less than those who o'er the windy main Borne homeward tempt the Pontic, and the jaws Of oyster-rife Abydos. When the Scales Now poising fair the hours of sleep and day
Give half the world to sunshine, half to shade, Then urge your bulls, my masters; sow the plain Even to the verge of tameless winter's showers With barley: then, too, time it is to hide Your flax in earth, and poppy, Ceres' joy, Aye, more than time to bend above the plough, While earth, yet dry, forbids not, and the clouds Are buoyant. With the spring comes bean-sowing; Thee, too, Lucerne, the crumbling furrows then Receive, and millet's annual care returns, What time the white bull with his gilded horns Opens the year, before whose threatening front,
Routed the dog-star sinks. But if it be For wheaten harvest and the hardy spelt, Thou tax the soil, to corn-ears wholly given, Let Atlas' daughters hide them in the dawn, The Cretan star, a crown of fire, depart, Or e'er the furrow's claim of seed thou quit, Or haste thee to entrust the whole year's hope To earth that would not. Many have begun Ere Maia's star be setting; these, I trow, Their looked-for harvest fools with empty ears. But if the vetch and common kidney-bean Thou'rt fain to sow, nor scorn to make thy care
Pelusiac lentil, no uncertain sign Bootes' fall will send thee; then begin, Pursue thy sowing till half the frosts be done. Therefore it is the golden sun, his course Into fixed parts dividing, rules his way Through the twelve constellations of the world. Five zones the heavens contain; whereof is one Aye red with flashing sunlight, fervent aye From fire; on either side to left and right Are traced the utmost twain, stiff with blue ice, And black with scowling storm-clouds, and betwixt These and the midmost, other twain there lie,
By the Gods' grace to heart-sick mortals given, And a path cleft between them, where might wheel On sloping plane the system of the Signs. And as toward Scythia and Rhipaean heights The world mounts upward, likewise sinks it down Toward Libya and the south, this pole of ours Still towering high, that other, 'neath their feet, By dark Styx frowned on, and the abysmal shades. Here glides the huge Snake forth with sinuous coils 'Twixt the two Bears and round them river-wise— The Bears that fear 'neath Ocean's brim to dip. There either, say they, reigns the eternal hush
Of night that knows no seasons, her black pall Thick-mantling fold on fold; or thitherward From us returning Dawn brings back the day; And when the first breath of his panting steeds On us the Orient flings, that hour with them Red Vesper 'gins to trim his 'lated fires. Hence under doubtful skies forebode we can The coming tempests, hence both harvest-day And seed-time, when to smite the treacherous main With driving oars, when launch the fair-rigged fleet, Or in ripe hour to fell the forest-pine. Hence, too, not idly do we watch the stars—
Their rising and their setting-and the year, Four varying seasons to one law conformed. If chilly showers e'er shut the farmer's door, Much that had soon with sunshine cried for haste, He may forestall; the ploughman batters keen His blunted share's hard tooth, scoops from a tree His troughs, or on the cattle stamps a brand, Or numbers on the corn-heaps; some make sharp The stakes and two-pronged forks, and willow-bands Amerian for the bending vine prepare. Now let the pliant basket plaited be Of bramble-twigs; now set your corn to parch
Before the fire; now bruise it with the stone. Nay even on holy days some tasks to ply Is right and lawful: this no ban forbids, To turn the runnel's course, fence corn-fields in, Make springes for the birds, burn up the briars, And plunge in wholesome stream the bleating flock. Oft too with oil or apples plenty-cheap The creeping ass's ribs his driver packs, And home from town returning brings instead A dented mill-stone or black lump of pitch. The moon herself in various rank assigns The days for labour lucky: fly the fifth;
Then sprang pale Orcus and the Eumenides; Earth then in awful labour brought to light Coeus, Iapetus, and Typhoeus fell, And those sworn brethren banded to break down The gates of heaven; thrice, sooth to say, they strove Ossa on Pelion's top to heave and heap, Aye, and on Ossa to up-roll amain Leafy Olympus; thrice with thunderbolt Their mountain-stair the Sire asunder smote. Seventh after tenth is lucky both to set The vine in earth, and take and tame the steer, And fix the leashes to the warp; the ninth
To runagates is kinder, cross to thieves. Many the tasks that lightlier lend themselves In chilly night, or when the sun is young, And Dawn bedews the world. By night 'tis best To reap light stubble, and parched fields by night; For nights the suppling moisture never fails. And one will sit the long late watches out By winter fire-light, shaping with keen blade The torches to a point; his wife the while, Her tedious labour soothing with a song, Speeds the shrill comb along the warp, or else With Vulcan's aid boils the sweet must-juice down,
And skims with leaves the quivering cauldron's wave. But ruddy Ceres in mid heat is mown, And in mid heat the parched ears are bruised Upon the floor; to plough strip, strip to sow; Winter's the lazy time for husbandmen. In the cold season farmers wont to taste The increase of their toil, and yield themselves To mutual interchange of festal cheer. Boon winter bids them, and unbinds their cares, As laden keels, when now the port they touch, And happy sailors crown the sterns with flowers. Nathless then also time it is to strip
Acorns from oaks, and berries from the bay, Olives, and bleeding myrtles, then to set Snares for the crane, and meshes for the stag, And hunt the long-eared hares, then pierce the doe With whirl of hempen-thonged Balearic sling, While snow lies deep, and streams are drifting ice. What need to tell of autumn's storms and stars, And wherefore men must watch, when now the day Grows shorter, and more soft the summer's heat? When Spring the rain-bringer comes rushing down, Or when the beards of harvest on the plain Bristle already, and the milky corn
On its green stalk is swelling? Many a time, When now the farmer to his yellow fields The reaping-hind came bringing, even in act To lop the brittle barley stems, have I Seen all the windy legions clash in war Together, as to rend up far and wide The heavy corn-crop from its lowest roots, And toss it skyward: so might winter's flaw, Dark-eddying, whirl light stalks and flying straws. Oft too comes looming vast along the sky A march of waters; mustering from above, The clouds roll up the tempest, heaped and grim
With angry showers: down falls the height of heaven, And with a great rain floods the smiling crops, The oxen's labour: now the dikes fill fast, And the void river-beds swell thunderously, And all the panting firths of Ocean boil. The Sire himself in midnight of the clouds Wields with red hand the levin; through all her bulk Earth at the hurly quakes; the beasts are fled, And mortal hearts of every kindred sunk In cowering terror; he with flaming brand Athos, or Rhodope, or Ceraunian crags Precipitates: then doubly raves the South
With shower on blinding shower, and woods and coasts Wail fitfully beneath the mighty blast. This fearing, mark the months and Signs of heaven, Whither retires him Saturn's icy star, And through what heavenly cycles wandereth The glowing orb Cyllenian. Before all Worship the Gods, and to great Ceres pay Her yearly dues upon the happy sward With sacrifice, anigh the utmost end Of winter, and when Spring begins to smile. Then lambs are fat, and wines are mellowest then; Then sleep is sweet, and dark the shadows fall
Upon the mountains. Let your rustic youth To Ceres do obeisance, one and all; And for her pleasure thou mix honeycombs With milk and the ripe wine-god; thrice for luck Around the young corn let the victim go, And all the choir, a joyful company, Attend it, and with shouts bid Ceres come To be their house-mate; and let no man dare Put sickle to the ripened ears until, With woven oak his temples chapleted, He foot the rugged dance and chant the lay. Aye, and that these things we might win to know
By certain tokens, heats, and showers, and winds That bring the frost, the Sire of all himself Ordained what warnings in her monthly round The moon should give, what bodes the south wind's fall, What oft-repeated sights the herdsman seeing Should keep his cattle closer to their stalls. No sooner are the winds at point to rise, Than either Ocean's firths begin to toss And swell, and a dry crackling sound is heard Upon the heights, or one loud ferment booms The beach afar, and through the forest goes A murmur multitudinous. By this
Scarce can the billow spare the curved keels, When swift the sea-gulls from the middle main Come winging, and their shrieks are shoreward borne, When ocean-loving cormorants on dry land Besport them, and the hern, her marshy haunts Forsaking, mounts above the soaring cloud. Oft, too, when wind is toward, the stars thou'lt see From heaven shoot headlong, and through murky night Long trails of fire white-glistening in their wake, Or light chaff flit in air with fallen leaves, Or feathers on the wave-top float and play. But when from regions of the furious North
It lightens, and when thunder fills the halls Of Eurus and of Zephyr, all the fields With brimming dikes are flooded, and at sea No mariner but furls his dripping sails. Never at unawares did shower annoy: Or, as it rises, the high-soaring cranes Flee to the vales before it, with face Upturned to heaven, the heifer snuffs the gale Through gaping nostrils, or about the meres Shrill-twittering flits the swallow, and the frogs Crouch in the mud and chant their dirge of old. Oft, too, the ant from out her inmost cells,
Fretting the narrow path, her eggs conveys; Or the huge bow sucks moisture; or a host Of rooks from food returning in long line Clamour with jostling wings. Now mayst thou see The various ocean-fowl and those that pry Round Asian meads within thy fresher-pools, Cayster, as in eager rivalry, About their shoulders dash the plenteous spray, Now duck their head beneath the wave, now run Into the billows, for sheer idle joy Of their mad bathing-revel. Then the crow With full voice, good-for-naught, inviting rain,
Stalks on the dry sand mateless and alone. Nor e'en the maids, that card their nightly task, Know not the storm-sign, when in blazing crock They see the lamp-oil sputtering with a growth Of mouldy snuff-clots. So too, after rain, Sunshine and open skies thou mayst forecast, And learn by tokens sure, for then nor dimmed Appear the stars' keen edges, nor the moon As borrowing of her brother's beams to rise, Nor fleecy films to float along the sky. Not to the sun's warmth then upon the shore
Do halcyons dear to Thetis ope their wings, Nor filthy swine take thought to toss on high With scattering snout the straw-wisps. But the clouds Seek more the vales, and rest upon the plain, And from the roof-top the night-owl for naught Watching the sunset plies her 'lated song. Distinct in clearest air is Nisus seen Towering, and Scylla for the purple lock Pays dear; for whereso, as she flies, her wings The light air winnow, lo! fierce, implacable, Nisus with mighty whirr through heaven pursues; Where Nisus heavenward soareth, there her wings
Clutch as she flies, the light air winnowing still. Soft then the voice of rooks from indrawn throat Thrice, four times, o'er repeated, and full oft On their high cradles, by some hidden joy Gladdened beyond their wont, in bustling throngs Among the leaves they riot; so sweet it is, When showers are spent, their own loved nests again And tender brood to visit. Not, I deem, That heaven some native wit to these assigned, Or fate a larger prescience, but that when The storm and shifting moisture of the air Have changed their courses, and the sky-god now,
Wet with the south-wind, thickens what was rare, And what was gross releases, then, too, change Their spirits' fleeting phases, and their breasts Feel other motions now, than when the wind Was driving up the cloud-rack. Hence proceeds That blending of the feathered choirs afield, The cattle's exultation, and the rooks' Deep-throated triumph. But if the headlong sun And moons in order following thou regard, Ne'er will to-morrow's hour deceive thee, ne'er Wilt thou be caught by guile of cloudless night.
When first the moon recalls her rallying fires, If dark the air clipped by her crescent dim, For folks afield and on the open sea A mighty rain is brewing; but if her face With maiden blush she mantle, 'twill be wind, For wind turns Phoebe still to ruddier gold. But if at her fourth rising, for 'tis that Gives surest counsel, clear she ride thro' heaven With horns unblunted, then shall that whole day, And to the month's end those that spring from it, Rainless and windless be, while safe ashore Shall sailors pay their vows to Panope,
Glaucus, and Melicertes, Ino's child. The sun too, both at rising, and when soon He dives beneath the waves, shall yield thee signs; For signs, none trustier, travel with the sun, Both those which in their course with dawn he brings, And those at star-rise. When his springing orb With spots he pranketh, muffled in a cloud, And shrinks mid-circle, then of showers beware; For then the South comes driving from the deep, To trees and crops and cattle bringing bane. Or when at day-break through dark clouds his rays Burst and are scattered, or when rising pale
Aurora quits Tithonus' saffron bed, But sorry shelter then, alack I will yield Vine-leaf to ripening grapes; so thick a hail In spiky showers spins rattling on the roof. And this yet more 'twill boot thee bear in mind, When now, his course upon Olympus run, He draws to his decline: for oft we see Upon the sun's own face strange colours stray; Dark tells of rain, of east winds fiery-red; If spots with ruddy fire begin to mix, Then all the heavens convulsed in wrath thou'lt see— Storm-clouds and wind together. Me that night
Let no man bid fare forth upon the deep, Nor rend the rope from shore. But if, when both He brings again and hides the day's return, Clear-orbed he shineth,idly wilt thou dread The storm-clouds, and beneath the lustral North See the woods waving. What late eve in fine Bears in her bosom, whence the wind that brings Fair-weather-clouds, or what the rain South Is meditating, tokens of all these The sun will give thee. Who dare charge the sun With leasing? He it is who warneth oft Of hidden broils at hand and treachery,
And secret swelling of the waves of war. He too it was, when Caesar's light was quenched, For Rome had pity, when his bright head he veiled In iron-hued darkness, till a godless age Trembled for night eternal; at that time Howbeit earth also, and the ocean-plains, And dogs obscene, and birds of evil bode Gave tokens. Yea, how often have we seen Etna, her furnace-walls asunder riven, In billowy floods boil o'er the Cyclops' fields, And roll down globes of fire and molten rocks! A clash of arms through all the heaven was heard
By Germany; strange heavings shook the Alps. Yea, and by many through the breathless groves A voice was heard with power, and wondrous-pale Phantoms were seen upon the dusk of night, And cattle spake, portentous! streams stand still, And the earth yawns asunder, ivory weeps For sorrow in the shrines, and bronzes sweat. Up-twirling forests with his eddying tide, Madly he bears them down, that lord of floods, Eridanus, till through all the plain are swept Beasts and their stalls together. At that time In gloomy entrails ceased not to appear
Dark-threatening fibres, springs to trickle blood, And high-built cities night-long to resound With the wolves' howling. Never more than then From skies all cloudless fell the thunderbolts, Nor blazed so oft the comet's fire of bale. Therefore a second time Philippi saw The Roman hosts with kindred weapons rush To battle, nor did the high gods deem it hard That twice Emathia and the wide champaign Of Haemus should be fattening with our blood. Ay, and the time will come when there anigh, Heaving the earth up with his curved plough,
Some swain will light on javelins by foul rust Corroded, or with ponderous harrow strike On empty helmets, while he gapes to see Bones as of giants from the trench untombed. Gods of my country, heroes of the soil, And Romulus, and Mother Vesta, thou Who Tuscan Tiber and Rome's Palatine Preservest, this new champion at the least Our fallen generation to repair Forbid not. To the full and long ago Our blood thy Trojan perjuries hath paid, Laomedon. Long since the courts of heaven
Begrudge us thee, our Caesar, and complain That thou regard'st the triumphs of mankind, Here where the wrong is right, the right is wrong, Where wars abound so many, and myriad-faced Is crime; where no meet honour hath the plough; The fields, their husbandmen led far away, Rot in neglect, and curved pruning-hooks Into the sword's stiff blade are fused and forged. Euphrates here, here Germany new strife Is stirring; neighbouring cities are in arms, The laws that bound them snapped; and godless war Rages through all the universe; as when
The four-horse chariots from the barriers poured Still quicken o'er the course, and, idly now Grasping the reins, the driver by his team Is onward borne, nor heeds the car his curb.
Book 2
Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven; Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee, The forest's young plantations and the fruit Of slow-maturing olive. Hither haste, O Father of the wine-press; all things here Teem with the bounties of thy hand; for thee With viny autumn laden blooms the field, And foams the vintage high with brimming vats; Hither, O Father of the wine-press, come, And stripped of buskin stain thy bared limbs In the new must with me. First, nature's law
For generating trees is manifold; For some of their own force spontaneous spring, No hand of man compelling, and possess The plains and river-windings far and wide, As pliant osier and the bending broom, Poplar, and willows in wan companies With green leaf glimmering gray; and some there be From chance-dropped seed that rear them, as the tall Chestnuts, and, mightiest of the branching wood, Jove's Aesculus, and oaks, oracular Deemed by the Greeks of old. With some sprouts forth A forest of dense suckers from the root,
As elms and cherries; so, too, a pigmy plant, Beneath its mother's mighty shade upshoots The bay-tree of Parnassus. Such the modes Nature imparted first; hence all the race Of forest-trees and shrubs and sacred groves Springs into verdure. Other means there are, Which use by method for itself acquired. One, sliving suckers from the tender frame Of the tree-mother, plants them in the trench; One buries the bare stumps within his field, Truncheons cleft four-wise, or sharp-pointed stakes; Some forest-trees the layer's bent arch await,
And slips yet quick within the parent-soil; No root need others, nor doth the pruner's hand Shrink to restore the topmost shoot to earth That gave it being. Nay, marvellous to tell, Lopped of its limbs, the olive, a mere stock, Still thrusts its root out from the sapless wood, And oft the branches of one kind we see Change to another's with no loss to rue, Pear-tree transformed the ingrafted apple yield, And stony cornels on the plum-tree blush. Come then, and learn what tilth to each belongs According to their kinds, ye husbandmen,
And tame with culture the wild fruits, lest earth Lie idle. O blithe to make all Ismarus One forest of the wine-god, and to clothe With olives huge Tabernus! And be thou At hand, and with me ply the voyage of toil I am bound on, O my glory, O thou that art Justly the chiefest portion of my fame, Maecenas, and on this wide ocean launched Spread sail like wings to waft thee. Not that I With my poor verse would comprehend the whole, Nay, though a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths Were mine, a voice of iron; be thou at hand,
Skirt but the nearer coast-line; see the shore Is in our grasp; not now with feigned song Through winding bouts and tedious preludings Shall I detain thee. Those that lift their head Into the realms of light spontaneously, Fruitless indeed, but blithe and strenuous spring, Since Nature lurks within the soil. And yet Even these, should one engraft them, or transplant To well-drilled trenches, will anon put of Their woodland temper, and, by frequent tilth, To whatso craft thou summon them, make speed
To follow. So likewise will the barren shaft That from the stock-root issueth, if it be Set out with clear space amid open fields: Now the tree-mother's towering leaves and boughs Darken, despoil of increase as it grows, And blast it in the bearing. Lastly, that Which from shed seed ariseth, upward wins But slowly, yielding promise of its shade To late-born generations; apples wane Forgetful of their former juice, the grape Bears sorry clusters, for the birds a prey. Soothly on all must toil be spent, and all
Trained to the trench and at great cost subdued. But reared from truncheons olives answer best, As vines from layers, and from the solid wood The Paphian myrtles; while from suckers spring Both hardy hazels and huge ash, the tree That rims with shade the brows of Hercules, And acorns dear to the Chaonian sire: So springs the towering palm too, and the fir Destined to spy the dangers of the deep. But the rough arbutus with walnut-fruit Is grafted; so have barren planes ere now Stout apples borne, with chestnut-flower the beech,
The mountain-ash with pear-bloom whitened o'er, And swine crunched acorns 'neath the boughs of elms. Nor is the method of inserting eyes And grafting one: for where the buds push forth Amidst the bark, and burst the membranes thin, Even on the knot a narrow rift is made, Wherein from some strange tree a germ they pen, And to the moist rind bid it cleave and grow. Or, otherwise, in knotless trunks is hewn A breach, and deep into the solid grain A path with wedges cloven; then fruitful slips Are set herein, and—no long time—behold!
To heaven upshot with teeming boughs, the tree Strange leaves admires and fruitage not its own. Nor of one kind alone are sturdy elms, Willow and lotus, nor the cypress-trees Of Ida; nor of self-same fashion spring Fat olives, orchades, and radii And bitter-berried pausians, no, nor yet Apples and the forests of Alcinous; Nor from like cuttings are Crustumian pears And Syrian, and the heavy hand-fillers. Not the same vintage from our trees hangs down, Which Lesbos from Methymna's tendril plucks.
Vines Thasian are there, Mareotids white, These apt for richer soils, for lighter those: Psithian for raisin-wine more useful, thin Lageos, that one day will try the feet And tie the tongue: purples and early-ripes, And how, O Rhaetian, shall I hymn thy praise? Yet cope not therefore with Falernian bins. Vines Aminaean too, best-bodied wine, To which the Tmolian bows him, ay, and king Phanaeus too, and, lesser of that name, Argitis, wherewith not a grape can vie For gush of wine-juice or for length of years.
Nor thee must I pass over, vine of Rhodes, Welcomed by gods and at the second board, Nor thee, Bumastus, with plump clusters swollen. But lo! how many kinds, and what their names, There is no telling, nor doth it boot to tell; Who lists to know it, he too would list to learn How many sand-grains are by Zephyr tossed On Libya's plain, or wot, when Eurus falls With fury on the ships, how many waves Come rolling shoreward from the Ionian sea. Not that all soils can all things bear alike. Willows by water-courses have their birth,
Alders in miry fens; on rocky heights The barren mountain-ashes; on the shore Myrtles throng gayest; Bacchus, lastly, loves The bare hillside, and yews the north wind's chill. Mark too the earth by outland tillers tamed, And Eastern homes of Arabs, and tattooed Geloni; to all trees their native lands Allotted are; no clime but India bears Black ebony; the branch of frankincense Is Saba's sons' alone; why tell to thee Of balsams oozing from the perfumed wood, Or berries of acanthus ever green?
Of Aethiop forests hoar with downy wool, Or how the Seres comb from off the leaves Their silky fleece? Of groves which India bears, Ocean's near neighbour, earth's remotest nook, Where not an arrow-shot can cleave the air Above their tree-tops? yet no laggards they, When girded with the quiver! Media yields The bitter juices and slow-lingering taste Of the blest citron-fruit, than which no aid Comes timelier, when fierce step-dames drug the cup With simples mixed and spells of baneful power, To drive the deadly poison from the limbs.
Large the tree's self in semblance like a bay, And, showered it not a different scent abroad, A bay it had been; for no wind of heaven Its foliage falls; the flower, none faster, clings; With it the Medes for sweetness lave the lips, And ease the panting breathlessness of age. But no, not Mede-land with its wealth of woods, Nor Ganges fair, and Hermus thick with gold, Can match the praise of Italy; nor Ind, Nor Bactria, nor Panchaia, one wide tract Of incense-teeming sand. Here never bulls With nostrils snorting fire upturned the sod
Sown with the monstrous dragon's teeth, nor crop Of warriors bristled thick with lance and helm; But heavy harvests and the Massic juice Of Bacchus fill its borders, overspread With fruitful flocks and olives. Hence arose The war-horse stepping proudly o'er the plain; Hence thy white flocks, Clitumnus, and the bull, Of victims mightiest, which full oft have led, Bathed in thy sacred stream, the triumph-pomp Of Romans to the temples of the gods. Here blooms perpetual spring, and summer here In months that are not summer's; twice teem the flocks;
Twice doth the tree yield service of her fruit. But ravening tigers come not nigh, nor breed Of savage lion, nor aconite betrays Its hapless gatherers, nor with sweep so vast Doth the scaled serpent trail his endless coils Along the ground, or wreathe him into spires. Mark too her cities, so many and so proud, Of mighty toil the achievement, town on town Up rugged precipices heaved and reared, And rivers undergliding ancient walls. Or should I celebrate the sea that laves Her upper shores and lower? or those broad lakes?
Thee, Larius, greatest and, Benacus, thee With billowy uproar surging like the main? Or sing her harbours, and the barrier cast Athwart the Lucrine, and how ocean chafes With mighty bellowings, where the Julian wave Echoes the thunder of his rout, and through Avernian inlets pours the Tuscan tide? A land no less that in her veins displays Rivers of silver, mines of copper ore, Ay, and with gold hath flowed abundantly. A land that reared a valiant breed of men, The Marsi and Sabellian youth, and, schooled
To hardship, the Ligurian, and with these The Volscian javelin-armed, the Decii too, The Marii and Camilli, names of might, The Scipios, stubborn warriors, ay, and thee, Great Caesar, who in Asia's utmost bounds With conquering arm e'en now art fending far The unwarlike Indian from the heights of Rome. Hail! land of Saturn, mighty mother thou Of fruits and heroes; 'tis for thee I dare Unseal the sacred fountains, and essay Themes of old art and glory, as I sing The song of Ascra through the towns of Rome.
Now for the native gifts of various soils, What powers hath each, what hue, what natural bent For yielding increase. First your stubborn lands And churlish hill-sides, where are thorny fields Of meagre marl and gravel, these delight In long-lived olive-groves to Pallas dear. Take for a sign the plenteous growth hard by Of oleaster, and the fields strewn wide With woodland berries. But a soil that's rich, In moisture sweet exulting, and the plain That teems with grasses on its fruitful breast, Such as full oft in hollow mountain-dell
We view beneath us—from the craggy heights Streams thither flow with fertilizing mud— A plain which southward rising feeds the fern By curved ploughs detested, this one day Shall yield thee store of vines full strong to gush In torrents of the wine-god; this shall be Fruitful of grapes and flowing juice like that We pour to heaven from bowls of gold, what time The sleek Etruscan at the altar blows His ivory pipe, and on the curved dish We lay the reeking entrails. If to rear Cattle delight thee rather, steers, or lambs,
Or goats that kill the tender plants, then seek Full-fed Tarentum's glades and distant fields, Or such a plain as luckless Mantua lost Whose weedy water feeds the snow-white swan: There nor clear springs nor grass the flocks will fail, And all the day-long browsing of thy herds Shall the cool dews of one brief night repair. Land which the burrowing share shows dark and rich, With crumbling soil—for this we counterfeit In ploughing—for corn is goodliest; from no field More wains thou'lt see wend home with plodding steers; Or that from which the husbandman in spleen
Has cleared the timber, and o'erthrown the copse That year on year lay idle, and from the roots Uptorn the immemorial haunt of birds; They banished from their nests have sought the skies; But the rude plain beneath the ploughshare's stroke Starts into sudden brightness. For indeed The starved hill-country gravel scarce serves the bees With lowly cassias and with rosemary; Rough tufa and chalk too, by black water-worms Gnawed through and through, proclaim no soils beside So rife with serpent-dainties, or that yield Such winding lairs to lurk in. That again,
Which vapoury mist and flitting smoke exhales, Drinks moisture up and casts it forth at will, Which, ever in its own green grass arrayed, Mars not the metal with salt scurf of rust— That shall thine elms with merry vines enwreathe; That teems with olive; that shall thy tilth prove kind To cattle, and patient of the curved share. Such ploughs rich Capua, such the coast that skirts Thy ridge, Vesuvius, and the Clanian flood, Acerrae's desolation and her bane. How each to recognize now hear me tell. Dost ask if loose or passing firm it be—
Since one for corn hath liking, one for wine, The firmer sort for Ceres, none too loose For thee, Lyaeus?—with scrutinizing eye First choose thy ground, and bid a pit be sunk Deep in the solid earth, then cast the mould All back again, and stamp the surface smooth. If it suffice not, loose will be the land, More meet for cattle and for kindly vines; But if, rebellious, to its proper bounds The soil returns not, but fills all the trench And overtops it, then the glebe is gross; Look for stiff ridges and reluctant clods,
And with strong bullocks cleave the fallow crust. Salt ground again, and bitter, as 'tis called— Barren for fruits, by tilth untamable, Nor grape her kind, nor apples their good name Maintaining—will in this wise yield thee proof: Stout osier-baskets from the rafter-smoke, And strainers of the winepress pluck thee down; Hereinto let that evil land, with fresh Spring-water mixed, be trampled to the full; The moisture, mark you, will ooze all away, In big drops issuing through the osier-withes, But plainly will its taste the secret tell,
And with a harsh twang ruefully distort The mouths of them that try it. Rich soil again We learn on this wise: tossed from hand to hand Yet cracks it never, but pitch-like, as we hold, Clings to the fingers. A land with moisture rife Breeds lustier herbage, and is more than meet Prolific. Ah I may never such for me O'er-fertile prove, or make too stout a show At the first earing! Heavy land or light The mute self-witness of its weight betrays. A glance will serve to warn thee which is black, Or what the hue of any. But hard it is
To track the signs of that pernicious cold: Pines only, noxious yews, and ivies dark At times reveal its traces. All these rules Regarding, let your land, ay, long before, Scorch to the quick, and into trenches carve The mighty mountains, and their upturned clods Bare to the north wind, ere thou plant therein The vine's prolific kindred. Fields whose soil Is crumbling are the best: winds look to that, And bitter hoar-frosts, and the delver's toil Untiring, as he stirs the loosened glebe.
But those, whose vigilance no care escapes, Search for a kindred site, where first to rear A nursery for the trees, and eke whereto Soon to translate them, lest the sudden shock From their new mother the young plants estrange. Nay, even the quarter of the sky they brand Upon the bark, that each may be restored, As erst it stood, here bore the southern heats, Here turned its shoulder to the northern pole; So strong is custom formed in early years. Whether on hill or plain 'tis best to plant Your vineyard first inquire. If on some plain
You measure out rich acres, then plant thick; Thick planting makes no niggard of the vine; But if on rising mound or sloping bill, Then let the rows have room, so none the less Each line you draw, when all the trees are set, May tally to perfection. Even as oft In mighty war, whenas the legion's length Deploys its cohorts, and the column stands In open plain, the ranks of battle set, And far and near with rippling sheen of arms The wide earth flickers, nor yet in grisly strife Foe grapples foe, but dubious 'twixt the hosts
The war-god wavers; so let all be ranged In equal rows symmetric, not alone To feed an idle fancy with the view, But since not otherwise will earth afford Vigour to all alike, nor yet the boughs Have power to stretch them into open space. Shouldst haply of the furrow's depth inquire, Even to a shallow trench I dare commit The vine; but deeper in the ground is fixed The tree that props it, aesculus in chief, Which howso far its summit soars toward heaven, So deep strikes root into the vaults of hell.
It therefore neither storms, nor blasts, nor showers Wrench from its bed; unshaken it abides, Sees many a generation, many an age Of men roll onward, and survives them all, Stretching its titan arms and branches far, Sole central pillar of a world of shade. Nor toward the sunset let thy vineyards slope, Nor midst the vines plant hazel; neither take The topmost shoots for cuttings, nor from the top Of the supporting tree your suckers tear; So deep their love of earth; nor wound the plants With blunted blade; nor truncheons intersperse
Of the wild olive: for oft from careless swains A spark hath fallen, that, 'neath the unctuous rind Hid thief-like first, now grips the tough tree-bole, And mounting to the leaves on high, sends forth A roar to heaven, then coursing through the boughs And airy summits reigns victoriously, Wraps all the grove in robes of fire, and gross With pitch-black vapour heaves the murky reek Skyward, but chiefly if a storm has swooped Down on the forest, and a driving wind Rolls up the conflagration. When 'tis so, Their root-force fails them, nor, when lopped away,
Can they recover, and from the earth beneath Spring to like verdure; thus alone survives The bare wild olive with its bitter leaves. Let none persuade thee, howso weighty-wise, To stir the soil when stiff with Boreas' breath. Then ice-bound winter locks the fields, nor lets The young plant fix its frozen root to earth. Best sow your vineyards when in blushing Spring Comes the white bird long-bodied snakes abhor, Or on the eve of autumn's earliest frost, Ere the swift sun-steeds touch the wintry Signs, While summer is departing. Spring it is
Blesses the fruit-plantation, Spring the groves; In Spring earth swells and claims the fruitful seed. Then Aether, sire omnipotent, leaps down With quickening showers to his glad wife's embrace, And, might with might commingling, rears to life All germs that teem within her; then resound With songs of birds the greenwood-wildernesses, And in due time the herds their loves renew; Then the boon earth yields increase, and the fields Unlock their bosoms to the warm west winds; Soft moisture spreads o'er all things, and the blades Face the new suns, and safely trust them now;
The vine-shoot, fearless of the rising south, Or mighty north winds driving rain from heaven, Bursts into bud, and every leaf unfolds. Even so, methinks, when Earth to being sprang, Dawned the first days, and such the course they held; 'Twas Spring-tide then, ay, Spring, the mighty world Was keeping: Eurus spared his wintry blasts, When first the flocks drank sunlight, and a race Of men like iron from the hard glebe arose, And wild beasts thronged the woods, and stars the heaven. Nor could frail creatures bear this heavy strain, Did not so large a respite interpose
'Twixt frost and heat, and heaven's relenting arms Yield earth a welcome. For the rest, whate'er The sets thou plantest in thy fields, thereon Strew refuse rich, and with abundant earth Take heed to hide them, and dig in withal Rough shells or porous stone, for therebetween Will water trickle and fine vapour creep, And so the plants their drooping spirits raise. Aye, and there have been, who with weight of stone Or heavy potsherd press them from above; This serves for shield in pelting showers, and this
When the hot dog-star chaps the fields with drought. The slips once planted, yet remains to cleave The earth about their roots persistently, And toss the cumbrous hoes, or task the soil With burrowing plough-share, and ply up and down Your labouring bullocks through the vineyard's midst, Then too smooth reeds and shafts of whittled wand, And ashen poles and sturdy forks to shape, Whereby supported they may learn to mount, Laugh at the gales, and through the elm-tops win From story up to story. Now while yet
The leaves are in their first fresh infant growth, Forbear their frailty, and while yet the bough Shoots joyfully toward heaven, with loosened rein Launched on the void, assail it not as yet With keen-edged sickle, but let the leaves alone Be culled with clip of fingers here and there. But when they clasp the elms with sturdy trunks Erect, then strip the leaves off, prune the boughs; Sooner they shrink from steel, but then put forth The arm of power, and stem the branchy tide. Hedges too must be woven and all beasts Barred entrance, chiefly while the leaf is young
And witless of disaster; for therewith, Beside harsh winters and o'erpowering sun, Wild buffaloes and pestering goats for ay Besport them, sheep and heifers glut their greed. Nor cold by hoar-frost curdled, nor the prone Dead weight of summer upon the parched crags, So scathe it, as the flocks with venom-bite Of their hard tooth, whose gnawing scars the stem. For no offence but this to Bacchus bleeds The goat at every altar, and old plays Upon the stage find entrance; therefore too The sons of Theseus through the country-side—
Hamlet and crossway—set the prize of wit, And on the smooth sward over oiled skins Dance in their tipsy frolic. Furthermore The Ausonian swains, a race from Troy derived, Make merry with rough rhymes and boisterous mirth, Grim masks of hollowed bark assume, invoke Thee with glad hymns, O Bacchus, and to thee Hang puppet-faces on tall pines to swing. Hence every vineyard teems with mellowing fruit, Till hollow vale o'erflows, and gorge profound, Where'er the god hath turned his comely head. Therefore to Bacchus duly will we sing
Meet honour with ancestral hymns, and cates And dishes bear him; and the doomed goat Led by the horn shall at the altar stand, Whose entrails rich on hazel-spits we'll roast. This further task again, to dress the vine, Hath needs beyond exhausting; the whole soil Thrice, four times, yearly must be cleft, the sod With hoes reversed be crushed continually, The whole plantation lightened of its leaves. Round on the labourer spins the wheel of toil, As on its own track rolls the circling year. Soon as the vine her lingering leaves hath shed,
And the chill north wind from the forests shook Their coronal, even then the careful swain Looks keenly forward to the coming year, With Saturn's curved fang pursues and prunes The vine forlorn, and lops it into shape. Be first to dig the ground up, first to clear And burn the refuse-branches, first to house Again your vine-poles, last to gather fruit. Twice doth the thickening shade beset the vine, Twice weeds with stifling briers o'ergrow the crop; And each a toilsome labour. Do thou praise Broad acres, farm but few. Rough twigs beside
Of butcher's broom among the woods are cut, And reeds upon the river-banks, and still The undressed willow claims thy fostering care. So now the vines are fettered, now the trees Let go the sickle, and the last dresser now Sings of his finished rows; but still the ground Must vexed be, the dust be stirred, and heaven Still set thee trembling for the ripened grapes. Not so with olives; small husbandry need they, Nor look for sickle bowed or biting rake, When once they have gripped the soil, and borne the breeze. Earth of herself, with hooked fang laid bare,
Yields moisture for the plants, and heavy fruit, The ploughshare aiding; therewithal thou'lt rear The olive's fatness well-beloved of Peace. Apples, moreover, soon as first they feel Their stems wax lusty, and have found their strength, To heaven climb swiftly, self-impelled, nor crave Our succour. All the grove meanwhile no less With fruit is swelling, and the wild haunts of birds Blush with their blood-red berries. Cytisus Is good to browse on, the tall forest yields Pine-torches, and the nightly fires are fed And shoot forth radiance. And shall men be loath
To plant, nor lavish of their pains? Why trace Things mightier? Willows even and lowly brooms To cattle their green leaves, to shepherds shade, Fences for crops, and food for honey yield. And blithe it is Cytorus to behold Waving with box, Narycian groves of pitch; Oh! blithe the sight of fields beholden not To rake or man's endeavour! the barren woods That crown the scalp of Caucasus, even these, Which furious blasts for ever rive and rend, Yield various wealth, pine-logs that serve for ships, Cedar and cypress for the homes of men;
Hence, too, the farmers shave their wheel-spokes, hence Drums for their wains, and curved boat-keels fit; Willows bear twigs enow, the elm-tree leaves, Myrtle stout spear-shafts, war-tried cornel too; Yews into Ituraean bows are bent: Nor do smooth lindens or lathe-polished box Shrink from man's shaping and keen-furrowing steel; Light alder floats upon the boiling flood Sped down the Padus, and bees house their swarms In rotten holm-oak's hollow bark and bole. What of like praise can Bacchus' gifts afford? Nay, Bacchus even to crime hath prompted, he
The wine-infuriate Centaurs quelled with death, Rhoetus and Pholus, and with mighty bowl Hylaeus threatening high the Lapithae. Oh! all too happy tillers of the soil, Could they but know their blessedness, for whom Far from the clash of arms all-equal earth Pours from the ground herself their easy fare! What though no lofty palace portal-proud From all its chambers vomits forth a tide Of morning courtiers, nor agape they gaze On pillars with fair tortoise-shell inwrought, Gold-purfled robes, and bronze from Ephyre;
Nor is the whiteness of their wool distained With drugs Assyrian, nor clear olive's use With cassia tainted; yet untroubled calm, A life that knows no falsehood, rich enow With various treasures, yet broad-acred ease, Grottoes and living lakes, yet Tempes cool, Lowing of kine, and sylvan slumbers soft, They lack not; lawns and wild beasts' haunts are there, A youth of labour patient, need-inured, Worship, and reverend sires: with them from earth Departing justice her last footprints left. Me before all things may the Muses sweet,
Whose rites I bear with mighty passion pierced, Receive, and show the paths and stars of heaven, The sun's eclipses and the labouring moons, From whence the earthquake, by what power the seas Swell from their depths, and, every barrier burst, Sink back upon themselves, why winter-suns So haste to dip 'neath ocean, or what check The lingering night retards. But if to these High realms of nature the cold curdling blood About my heart bar access, then be fields And stream-washed vales my solace, let me love Rivers and woods, inglorious. Oh for you
Plains, and Spercheius, and Taygete, By Spartan maids o'er-revelled! Oh, for one, Would set me in deep dells of Haemus cool, And shield me with his boughs' o'ershadowing might! Happy, who had the skill to understand Nature's hid causes, and beneath his feet All terrors cast, and death's relentless doom, And the loud roar of greedy Acheron. Blest too is he who knows the rural gods, Pan, old Silvanus, and the sister-nymphs! Him nor the rods of public power can bend, Nor kingly purple, nor fierce feud that drives
Brother to turn on brother, nor descent Of Dacian from the Danube's leagued flood, Nor Rome's great State, nor kingdoms like to die; Nor hath he grieved through pitying of the poor, Nor envied him that hath. What fruit the boughs, And what the fields, of their own bounteous will Have borne, he gathers; nor iron rule of laws, Nor maddened Forum have his eyes beheld, Nor archives of the people. Others vex The darksome gulfs of Ocean with their oars, Or rush on steel: they press within the courts And doors of princes; one with havoc falls
Upon a city and its hapless hearths, From gems to drink, on Tyrian rugs to lie; This hoards his wealth and broods o'er buried gold; One at the rostra stares in blank amaze; One gaping sits transported by the cheers, The answering cheers of plebs and senate rolled Along the benches: bathed in brothers' blood Men revel, and, all delights of hearth and home For exile changing, a new country seek Beneath an alien sun. The husbandman With hooked ploughshare turns the soil; from hence Springs his year's labour; hence, too, he sustains
Country and cottage homestead, and from hence His herds of cattle and deserving steers. No respite! still the year o'erflows with fruit, Or young of kine, or Ceres' wheaten sheaf, With crops the furrow loads, and bursts the barns. Winter is come: in olive-mills they bruise The Sicyonian berry; acorn-cheered The swine troop homeward; woods their arbutes yield; So, various fruit sheds Autumn, and high up On sunny rocks the mellowing vintage bakes. Meanwhile about his lips sweet children cling; His chaste house keeps its purity; his kine
Drop milky udders, and on the lush green grass Fat kids are striving, horn to butting horn. Himself keeps holy days; stretched o'er the sward, Where round the fire his comrades crown the bowl, He pours libation, and thy name invokes, Lenaeus, and for the herdsmen on an elm Sets up a mark for the swift javelin; they Strip their tough bodies for the rustic sport. Such life of yore the ancient Sabines led, Such Remus and his brother: Etruria thus, Doubt not, to greatness grew, and Rome became The fair world's fairest, and with circling wall
Clasped to her single breast the sevenfold hills. Ay, ere the reign of Dicte's king, ere men, Waxed godless, banqueted on slaughtered bulls, Such life on earth did golden Saturn lead. Nor ear of man had heard the war-trump's blast, Nor clang of sword on stubborn anvil set. But lo! a boundless space we have travelled o'er; 'Tis time our steaming horses to unyoke.
Book 3
Thee too, great Pales, will I hymn, and thee, Amphrysian shepherd, worthy to be sung, You, woods and waves Lycaean. All themes beside, Which else had charmed the vacant mind with song, Are now waxed common. Of harsh Eurystheus who The story knows not, or that praiseless king Busiris, and his altars? or by whom Hath not the tale been told of Hylas young, Latonian Delos and Hippodame, And Pelops for his ivory shoulder famed, Keen charioteer? Needs must a path be tried, By which I too may lift me from the dust,
And float triumphant through the mouths of men. Yea, I shall be the first, so life endure, To lead the Muses with me, as I pass To mine own country from the Aonian height; I, Mantua, first will bring thee back the palms Of Idumaea, and raise a marble shrine On thy green plain fast by the water-side, Where Mincius winds more vast in lazy coils, And rims his margent with the tender reed. Amid my shrine shall Caesar's godhead dwell. To him will I, as victor, bravely dight In Tyrian purple, drive along the bank
A hundred four-horse cars. All Greece for me, Leaving Alpheus and Molorchus' grove, On foot shall strive, or with the raw-hide glove; Whilst I, my head with stripped green olive crowned, Will offer gifts. Even 'tis present joy To lead the high processions to the fane, And view the victims felled; or how the scene Sunders with shifted face, and Britain's sons Inwoven thereon with those proud curtains rise. Of gold and massive ivory on the doors I'll trace the battle of the Gangarides, And our Quirinus' conquering arms, and there
Surging with war, and hugely flowing, the Nile, And columns heaped on high with naval brass. And Asia's vanquished cities I will add, And quelled Niphates, and the Parthian foe, Who trusts in flight and backward-volleying darts, And trophies torn with twice triumphant hand From empires twain on ocean's either shore. And breathing forms of Parian marble there Shall stand, the offspring of Assaracus, And great names of the Jove-descended folk, And father Tros, and Troy's first founder, lord Of Cynthus. And accursed Envy there
Shall dread the Furies, and thy ruthless flood, Cocytus, and Ixion's twisted snakes, And that vast wheel and ever-baffling stone. Meanwhile the Dryad-haunted woods and lawns Unsullied seek we; 'tis thy hard behest, Maecenas. Without thee no lofty task My mind essays. Up! break the sluggish bonds Of tarriance; with loud din Cithaeron calls, Steed-taming Epidaurus, and thy hounds, Taygete; and hark! the assenting groves With peal on peal reverberate the roar. Yet must I gird me to rehearse ere long
The fiery fights of Caesar, speed his name Through ages, countless as to Caesar's self From the first birth-dawn of Tithonus old. If eager for the prized Olympian palm One breed the horse, or bullock strong to plough, Be his prime care a shapely dam to choose. Of kine grim-faced is goodliest, with coarse head And burly neck, whose hanging dewlaps reach From chin to knee; of boundless length her flank; Large every way she is, large-footed even, With incurved horns and shaggy ears beneath. Nor let mislike me one with spots of white
Conspicuous, or that spurns the yoke, whose horn At times hath vice in't: liker bull-faced she, And tall-limbed wholly, and with tip of tail Brushing her footsteps as she walks along. The age for Hymen's rites, Lucina's pangs, Ere ten years ended, after four begins; Their residue of days nor apt to teem, Nor strong for ploughing. Meantime, while youth's delight Survives within them, loose the males: be first To speed thy herds of cattle to their loves, Breed stock with stock, and keep the race supplied. Ah! life's best hours are ever first to fly
From hapless mortals; in their place succeed Disease and dolorous eld; till travail sore And death unpitying sweep them from the scene. Still will be some, whose form thou fain wouldst change; Renew them still; with yearly choice of young Preventing losses, lest too late thou rue. Nor steeds crave less selection; but on those Thou think'st to rear, the promise of their line, From earliest youth thy chiefest pains bestow. See from the first yon high-bred colt afield, His lofty step, his limbs' elastic tread: Dauntless he leads the herd, still first to try
The threatening flood, or brave the unknown bridge, By no vain noise affrighted; lofty-necked, With clean-cut head, short belly, and stout back; His sprightly breast exuberant with brawn. Chestnut and grey are good; the worst-hued white And sorrel. Then lo! if arms are clashed afar, Bide still he cannot: ears stiffen and limbs quake; His nostrils snort and roll out wreaths of fire. Dense is his mane, that when uplifted falls On his right shoulder; betwixt either loin The spine runs double; his earth-dinting hoof Rings with the ponderous beat of solid horn.
Even such a horse was Cyllarus, reined and tamed By Pollux of Amyclae; such the pair In Grecian song renowned, those steeds of Mars, And famed Achilles' team: in such-like form Great Saturn's self with mane flung loose on neck Sped at his wife's approach, and flying filled The heights of Pelion with his piercing neigh. Even him, when sore disease or sluggish eld Now saps his strength, pen fast at home, and spare His not inglorious age. A horse grown old Slow kindling unto love in vain prolongs The fruitless task, and, to the encounter come,
As fire in stubble blusters without strength, He rages idly. Therefore mark thou first Their age and mettle, other points anon, As breed and lineage, or what pain was theirs To lose the race, what pride the palm to win. Seest how the chariots in mad rivalry Poured from the barrier grip the course and go, When youthful hope is highest, and every heart Drained with each wild pulsation? How they ply The circling lash, and reaching forward let The reins hang free! Swift spins the glowing wheel; And now they stoop, and now erect in air
Seem borne through space and towering to the sky: No stop, no stay; the dun sand whirls aloft; They reek with foam-flakes and pursuing breath; So sweet is fame, so prized the victor's palm. 'Twas Ericthonius first took heart to yoke Four horses to his car, and rode above The whirling wheels to victory: but the ring And bridle-reins, mounted on horses' backs, The Pelethronian Lapithae bequeathed, And taught the knight in arms to spurn the ground, And arch the upgathered footsteps of his pride. Each task alike is arduous, and for each
A horse young, fiery, swift of foot, they seek; How oft so-e'er yon rival may have chased The flying foe, or boast his native plain Epirus, or Mycenae's stubborn hold, And trace his lineage back to Neptune's birth. These points regarded, as the time draws nigh, With instant zeal they lavish all their care To plump with solid fat the chosen chief And designated husband of the herd: And flowery herbs they cut, and serve him well With corn and running water, that his strength Not fail him for that labour of delight,
Nor puny colts betray the feeble sire. The herd itself of purpose they reduce To leanness, and when love's sweet longing first Provokes them, they forbid the leafy food, And pen them from the springs, and oft beside With running shake, and tire them in the sun, What time the threshing-floor groans heavily With pounding of the corn-ears, and light chaff Is whirled on high to catch the rising west. This do they that the soil's prolific powers May not be dulled by surfeiting, nor choke The sluggish furrows, but eagerly absorb
Their fill of love, and deeply entertain. To care of sire the mother's care succeeds. When great with young they wander nigh their time, Let no man suffer them to drag the yoke In heavy wains, nor leap across the way, Nor scour the meads, nor swim the rushing flood. In lonely lawns they feed them, by the course Of brimming streams, where moss is, and the banks With grass are greenest, where are sheltering caves, And far outstretched the rock-flung shadow lies. Round wooded Silarus and the ilex-bowers Of green Alburnus swarms a winged pest—
Its Roman name Asilus, by the Greeks Termed Oestros—fierce it is, and harshly hums, Driving whole herds in terror through the groves, Till heaven is madded by their bellowing din, And Tanager's dry bed and forest-banks. With this same scourge did Juno wreak of old The terrors of her wrath, a plague devised Against the heifer sprung from Inachus. From this too thou, since in the noontide heats 'Tis most persistent, fend thy teeming herds, And feed them when the sun is newly risen, Or the first stars are ushering in the night.
But, yeaning ended, all their tender care Is to the calves transferred; at once with marks They brand them, both to designate their race, And which to rear for breeding, or devote As altar-victims, or to cleave the ground And into ridges tear and turn the sod. The rest along the greensward graze at will. Those that to rustic uses thou wouldst mould, As calves encourage and take steps to tame, While pliant wills and plastic youth allow. And first of slender withies round the throat Loose collars hang, then when their free-born necks
Are used to service, with the self-same bands Yoke them in pairs, and steer by steer compel Keep pace together. And time it is that oft Unfreighted wheels be drawn along the ground Behind them, as to dint the surface-dust; Then let the beechen axle strain and creak 'Neath some stout burden, whilst a brazen pole Drags on the wheels made fast thereto. Meanwhile For their unbroken youth not grass alone, Nor meagre willow-leaves and marish-sedge, But corn-ears with thy hand pluck from the crops. Nor shall the brood-kine, as of yore, for thee
Brim high the snowy milking-pail, but spend Their udders' fullness on their own sweet young. But if fierce squadrons and the ranks of war Delight thee rather, or on wheels to glide At Pisa, with Alpheus fleeting by, And in the grove of Jupiter urge on The flying chariot, be your steed's first task To face the warrior's armed rage, and brook The trumpet, and long roar of rumbling wheels, And clink of chiming bridles in the stall; Then more and more to love his master's voice Caressing, or loud hand that claps his neck.
Ay, thus far let him learn to dare, when first Weaned from his mother, and his mouth at times Yield to the supple halter, even while yet Weak, tottering-limbed, and ignorant of life. But, three years ended, when the fourth arrives, Now let him tarry not to run the ring With rhythmic hoof-beat echoing, and now learn Alternately to curve each bending leg, And be like one that struggleth; then at last Challenge the winds to race him, and at speed Launched through the open, like a reinless thing, Scarce print his footsteps on the surface-sand.
As when with power from Hyperborean climes The north wind stoops, and scatters from his path Dry clouds and storms of Scythia; the tall corn And rippling plains 'gin shiver with light gusts; A sound is heard among the forest-tops; Long waves come racing shoreward: fast he flies, With instant pinion sweeping earth and main. A steed like this or on the mighty course Of Elis at the goal will sweat, and shower Red foam-flakes from his mouth, or, kindlier task, With patient neck support the Belgian car. Then, broken at last, let swell their burly frame
With fattening corn-mash, for, unbroke, they will With pride wax wanton, and, when caught, refuse Tough lash to brook or jagged curb obey. But no device so fortifies their power As love's blind stings of passion to forefend, Whether on steed or steer thy choice be set. Ay, therefore 'tis they banish bulls afar To solitary pastures, or behind Some mountain-barrier, or broad streams beyond, Or else in plenteous stalls pen fast at home. For, even through sight of her, the female wastes His strength with smouldering fire, till he forget
Both grass and woodland. She indeed full oft With her sweet charms can lovers proud compel To battle for the conquest horn to horn. In Sila's forest feeds the heifer fair, While each on each the furious rivals run; Wound follows wound; the black blood laves their limbs; Horns push and strive against opposing horns, With mighty groaning; all the forest-side And far Olympus bellow back the roar. Nor wont the champions in one stall to couch; But he that's worsted hies him to strange climes Far off, an exile, moaning much the shame,
The blows of that proud conqueror, then love's loss Avenged not; with one glance toward the byre, His ancient royalties behind him lie. So with all heed his strength he practiseth, And nightlong makes the hard bare stones his bed, And feeds on prickly leaf and pointed rush, And proves himself, and butting at a tree Learns to fling wrath into his horns, with blows Provokes the air, and scattering clouds of sand Makes prelude of the battle; afterward, With strength repaired and gathered might breaks camp, And hurls him headlong on the unthinking foe:
As in mid ocean when a wave far of Begins to whiten, mustering from the main Its rounded breast, and, onward rolled to land Falls with prodigious roar among the rocks, Huge as a very mountain: but the depths Upseethe in swirling eddies, and disgorge The murky sand-lees from their sunken bed. Nay, every race on earth of men, and beasts, And ocean-folk, and flocks, and painted birds, Rush to the raging fire: love sways them all. Never than then more fiercely o'er the plain Prowls heedless of her whelps the lioness:
Nor monstrous bears such wide-spread havoc-doom Deal through the forests; then the boar is fierce, Most deadly then the tigress: then, alack! Ill roaming is it on Libya's lonely plains. Mark you what shivering thrills the horse's frame, If but a waft the well-known gust conveys? Nor curb can check them then, nor lash severe, Nor rocks and caverned crags, nor barrier-floods, That rend and whirl and wash the hills away. Then speeds amain the great Sabellian boar, His tushes whets, with forefoot tears the ground, Rubs 'gainst a tree his flanks, and to and fro
Hardens each wallowing shoulder to the wound. What of the youth, when love's relentless might Stirs the fierce fire within his veins? Behold! In blindest midnight how he swims the gulf Convulsed with bursting storm-clouds! Over him Heaven's huge gate thunders; the rock-shattered main Utters a warning cry; nor parents' tears Can backward call him, nor the maid he loves, Too soon to die on his untimely pyre. What of the spotted ounce to Bacchus dear, Or warlike wolf-kin or the breed of dogs? Why tell how timorous stags the battle join?
O'er all conspicuous is the rage of mares, By Venus' self inspired of old, what time The Potnian four with rending jaws devoured The limbs of Glaucus. Love-constrained they roam Past Gargarus, past the loud Ascanian flood; They climb the mountains, and the torrents swim; And when their eager marrow first conceives The fire, in Spring-tide chiefly, for with Spring Warmth doth their frames revisit, then they stand All facing westward on the rocky heights, And of the gentle breezes take their fill; And oft unmated, marvellous to tell,
But of the wind impregnate, far and wide O'er craggy height and lowly vale they scud, Not toward thy rising, Eurus, or the sun's, But westward and north-west, or whence up-springs Black Auster, that glooms heaven with rainy cold. Hence from their groin slow drips a poisonous juice, By shepherds truly named hippomanes, Hippomanes, fell stepdames oft have culled, And mixed with herbs and spells of baneful bode. Fast flies meanwhile the irreparable hour, As point to point our charmed round we trace. Enough of herds. This second task remains,
The wool-clad flocks and shaggy goats to treat. Here lies a labour; hence for glory look, Brave husbandmen. Nor doubtfully know How hard it is for words to triumph here, And shed their lustre on a theme so slight: But I am caught by ravishing desire Above the lone Parnassian steep; I love To walk the heights, from whence no earlier track Slopes gently downward to Castalia's spring. Now, awful Pales, strike a louder tone. First, for the sheep soft pencotes I decree To browse in, till green summer's swift return;
And that the hard earth under them with straw And handfuls of the fern be littered deep, Lest chill of ice such tender cattle harm With scab and loathly foot-rot. Passing thence I bid the goats with arbute-leaves be stored, And served with fresh spring-water, and their pens Turned southward from the blast, to face the suns Of winter, when Aquarius' icy beam Now sinks in showers upon the parting year. These too no lightlier our protection claim, Nor prove of poorer service, howsoe'er Milesian fleeces dipped in Tyrian reds
Repay the barterer; these with offspring teem More numerous; these yield plenteous store of milk: The more each dry-wrung udder froths the pail, More copious soon the teat-pressed torrents flow. Ay, and on Cinyps' bank the he-goats too Their beards and grizzled chins and bristling hair Let clip for camp-use, or as rugs to wrap Seafaring wretches. But they browse the woods And summits of Lycaeus, and rough briers, And brakes that love the highland: of themselves Right heedfully the she-goats homeward troop Before their kids, and with plump udders clogged
Scarce cross the threshold. Wherefore rather ye, The less they crave man's vigilance, be fain From ice to fend them and from snowy winds; Bring food and feast them with their branchy fare, Nor lock your hay-loft all the winter long. But when glad summer at the west wind's call Sends either flock to pasture in the glades, Soon as the day-star shineth, hie we then To the cool meadows, while the dawn is young, The grass yet hoary, and to browsing herds The dew tastes sweetest on the tender sward. When heaven's fourth hour draws on the thickening drought,
And shrill cicalas pierce the brake with song, Then at the well-springs bid them, or deep pools, From troughs of holm-oak quaff the running wave: But at day's hottest seek a shadowy vale, Where some vast ancient-timbered oak of Jove Spreads his huge branches, or where huddling black Ilex on ilex cowers in awful shade. Then once more give them water sparingly, And feed once more, till sunset, when cool eve Allays the air, and dewy moonbeams slake The forest glades, with halcyon's song the shore, And every thicket with the goldfinch rings.
Of Libya's shepherds why the tale pursue? Why sing their pastures and the scattered huts They house in? Oft their cattle day and night Graze the whole month together, and go forth Into far deserts where no shelter is, So flat the plain and boundless. All his goods The Afric swain bears with him, house and home, Arms, Cretan quiver, and Amyclaean dog; As some keen Roman in his country's arms Plies the swift march beneath a cruel load; Soon with tents pitched and at his post he stands, Ere looked for by the foe.
Not thus the tribes Of Scythia by the far Maeotic wave, Where turbid Ister whirls his yellow sands, And Rhodope stretched out beneath the pole Comes trending backward. There the herds they keep Close-pent in byres, nor any grass is seen Upon the plain, nor leaves upon the tree: But with snow-ridges and deep frost afar Heaped seven ells high the earth lies featureless: Still winter? still the north wind's icy breath! Nay, never sun disparts the shadows pale, Or as he rides the steep of heaven, or dips
In ocean's fiery bath his plunging car. Quick ice-crusts curdle on the running stream, And iron-hooped wheels the water's back now bears, To broad wains opened, as erewhile to ships; Brass vessels oft asunder burst, and clothes Stiffen upon the wearers; juicy wines They cleave with axes; to one frozen mass Whole pools are turned; and on their untrimmed beards Stiff clings the jagged icicle. Meanwhile All heaven no less is filled with falling snow; The cattle perish: oxen's mighty frames Stand island-like amid the frost, and stags
In huddling herds, by that strange weight benumbed, Scarce top the surface with their antler-points. These with no hounds they hunt, nor net with toils, Nor scare with terror of the crimson plume; But, as in vain they breast the opposing block, Butcher them, knife in hand, and so dispatch Loud-bellowing, and with glad shouts hale them home. Themselves in deep-dug caverns underground Dwell free and careless; to their hearths they heave Oak-logs and elm-trees whole, and fire them there, There play the night out, and in festive glee With barm and service sour the wine-cup mock.
So 'neath the seven-starred Hyperborean wain The folk live tameless, buffeted with blasts Of Eurus from Rhipaean hills, and wrap Their bodies in the tawny fells of beasts. If wool delight thee, first, be far removed All prickly boskage, burrs and caltrops; shun Luxuriant pastures; at the outset choose White flocks with downy fleeces. For the ram, How white soe'er himself, be but the tongue 'Neath his moist palate black, reject him, lest He sully with dark spots his offspring's fleece, And seek some other o'er the teeming plain.
Even with such snowy bribe of wool, if ear May trust the tale, Pan, God of Arcady, Snared and beguiled thee, Luna, calling thee To the deep woods; nor thou didst spurn his call. But who for milk hath longing, must himself Carry lucerne and lotus-leaves enow With salt herbs to the cote, whence more they love The streams, more stretch their udders, and give back A subtle taste of saltness in the milk. Many there be who from their mothers keep The new-born kids, and straightway bind their mouths With iron-tipped muzzles. What they milk at dawn,
Or in the daylight hours, at night they press; What darkling or at sunset, this ere morn They bear away in baskets—for to town The shepherd hies him—or with dash of salt Just sprinkle, and lay by for winter use. Nor be thy dogs last cared for; but alike Swift Spartan hounds and fierce Molossian feed On fattening whey. Never, with these to watch, Dread nightly thief afold and ravening wolves, Or Spanish desperadoes in the rear. And oft the shy wild asses thou wilt chase, With hounds, too, hunt the hare, with hounds the doe;
Oft from his woodland wallowing-den uprouse The boar, and scare him with their baying, and drive, And o'er the mountains urge into the toils Some antlered monster to their chiming cry. Learn also scented cedar-wood to burn Within the stalls, and snakes of noxious smell With fumes of galbanum to drive away. Oft under long-neglected cribs, or lurks A viper ill to handle, that hath fled The light in terror, or some snake, that wont 'Neath shade and sheltering roof to creep, and shower Its bane among the cattle, hugs the ground,
Fell scourge of kine. Shepherd, seize stakes, seize stones! And as he rears defiance, and puffs out A hissing throat, down with him! see how low That cowering crest is vailed in flight, the while, His midmost coils and final sweep of tail Relaxing, the last fold drags lingering spires. Then that vile worm that in Calabrian glades Uprears his breast, and wreathes a scaly back, His length of belly pied with mighty spots— While from their founts gush any streams, while yet With showers of Spring and rainy south-winds earth Is moistened, lo! he haunts the pools, and here
Housed in the banks, with fish and chattering frogs Crams the black void of his insatiate maw. Soon as the fens are parched, and earth with heat Is gaping, forth he darts into the dry, Rolls eyes of fire and rages through the fields, Furious from thirst and by the drought dismayed. Me list not then beneath the open heaven To snatch soft slumber, nor on forest-ridge Lie stretched along the grass, when, slipped his slough, To glittering youth transformed he winds his spires, And eggs or younglings leaving in his lair, Towers sunward, lightening with three-forked tongue.
Of sickness, too, the causes and the signs I'll teach thee. Loathly scab assails the sheep, When chilly showers have probed them to the quick, And winter stark with hoar-frost, or when sweat Unpurged cleaves to them after shearing done, And rough thorns rend their bodies. Hence it is Shepherds their whole flock steep in running streams, While, plunged beneath the flood, with drenched fell, The ram, launched free, goes drifting down the tide. Else, having shorn, they smear their bodies o'er With acrid oil-lees, and mix silver-scum And native sulphur and Idaean pitch,
Wax mollified with ointment, and therewith Sea-leek, strong hellebores, bitumen black. Yet ne'er doth kindlier fortune crown his toil, Than if with blade of iron a man dare lance The ulcer's mouth ope: for the taint is fed And quickened by confinement; while the swain His hand of healing from the wound withholds, Or sits for happier signs imploring heaven. Aye, and when inward to the bleater's bones The pain hath sunk and rages, and their limbs By thirsty fever are consumed, 'tis good To draw the enkindled heat therefrom, and pierce
Within the hoof-clefts a blood-bounding vein. Of tribes Bisaltic such the wonted use, And keen Gelonian, when to Rhodope He flies, or Getic desert, and quaffs milk With horse-blood curdled. Seest one far afield Oft to the shade's mild covert win, or pull The grass tops listlessly, or hindmost lag, Or, browsing, cast her down amid the plain, At night retire belated and alone; With quick knife check the mischief, ere it creep With dire contagion through the unwary herd. Less thick and fast the whirlwind scours the main
With tempest in its wake, than swarm the plagues Of cattle; nor seize they single lives alone, But sudden clear whole feeding grounds, the flock With all its promise, and extirpate the breed. Well would he trow it who, so long after, still High Alps and Noric hill-forts should behold, And Iapydian Timavus' fields, Ay, still behold the shepherds' realms a waste, And far and wide the lawns untenanted. Here from distempered heavens erewhile arose A piteous season, with the full fierce heat Of autumn glowed, and cattle-kindreds all
And all wild creatures to destruction gave, Tainted the pools, the fodder charged with bane. Nor simple was the way of death, but when Hot thirst through every vein impelled had drawn Their wretched limbs together, anon o'erflowed A watery flux, and all their bones piecemeal Sapped by corruption to itself absorbed. Oft in mid sacrifice to heaven—the white Wool-woven fillet half wreathed about his brow— Some victim, standing by the altar, there Betwixt the loitering carles a-dying fell: Or, if betimes the slaughtering priest had struck,
Nor with its heaped entrails blazed the pile, Nor seer to seeker thence could answer yield; Nay, scarce the up-stabbing knife with blood was stained, Scarce sullied with thin gore the surface-sand. Hence die the calves in many a pasture fair, Or at full cribs their lives' sweet breath resign; Hence on the fawning dog comes madness, hence Racks the sick swine a gasping cough that chokes With swelling at the jaws: the conquering steed, Uncrowned of effort and heedless of the sward, Faints, turns him from the springs, and paws the earth With ceaseless hoof: low droop his ears, wherefrom
Bursts fitful sweat, a sweat that waxes cold Upon the dying beast; the skin is dry, And rigidly repels the handler's touch. These earlier signs they give that presage doom. But, if the advancing plague 'gin fiercer grow, Then are their eyes all fire, deep-drawn their breath, At times groan-laboured: with long sobbing heave Their lowest flanks; from either nostril streams Black blood; a rough tongue clogs the obstructed jaws. 'Twas helpful through inverted horn to pour Draughts of the wine-god down; sole way it seemed To save the dying: soon this too proved their bane,
And, reinvigorate but with frenzy's fire, Even at death's pinch—the gods some happier fate Deal to the just, such madness to their foes— Each with bared teeth his own limbs mangling tore. See! as he smokes beneath the stubborn share, The bull drops, vomiting foam-dabbled gore, And heaves his latest groans. Sad goes the swain, Unhooks the steer that mourns his fellow's fate, And in mid labour leaves the plough-gear fast. Nor tall wood's shadow, nor soft sward may stir That heart's emotion, nor rock-channelled flood, More pure than amber speeding to the plain:
But see! his flanks fail under him, his eyes Are dulled with deadly torpor, and his neck Sinks to the earth with drooping weight. What now Besteads him toil or service? to have turned The heavy sod with ploughshare? And yet these Ne'er knew the Massic wine-god's baneful boon, Nor twice replenished banquets: but on leaves They fare, and virgin grasses, and their cups Are crystal springs and streams with running tired, Their healthful slumbers never broke by care. Then only, say they, through that country side
For Juno's rites were cattle far to seek, And ill-matched buffaloes the chariots drew To their high fanes. So, painfully with rakes They grub the soil, aye, with their very nails Dig in the corn-seeds, and with strained neck O'er the high uplands drag the creaking wains. No wolf for ambush pries about the pen, Nor round the flock prowls nightly; pain more sharp Subdues him: the shy deer and fleet-foot stags With hounds now wander by the haunts of men Vast ocean's offspring, and all tribes that swim, On the shore's confine the wave washes up,
Like shipwrecked bodies: seals, unwonted there, Flee to the rivers. Now the viper dies, For all his den's close winding, and with scales Erect the astonied water-worms. The air Brooks not the very birds, that headlong fall, And leave their life beneath the soaring cloud. Moreover now nor change of fodder serves, And subtlest cures but injure; then were foiled The masters, Chiron sprung from Phillyron, And Amythaon's son Melampus. See! From Stygian darkness launched into the light Comes raging pale Tisiphone; she drives
Disease and fear before her, day by day Still rearing higher that all-devouring head. With bleat of flocks and lowings thick resound Rivers and parched banks and sloping heights. At last in crowds she slaughters them, she chokes The very stalls with carrion-heaps that rot In hideous corruption, till men learn With earth to cover them, in pits to hide. For e'en the fells are useless; nor the flesh With water may they purge, or tame with fire, Nor shear the fleeces even, gnawed through and through With foul disease, nor touch the putrid webs;
But, had one dared the loathly weeds to try, Red blisters and an unclean sweat o'erran His noisome limbs, till, no long tarriance made, The fiery curse his tainted frame devoured.
Book 4
Of air-born honey, gift of heaven, I now Take up the tale. Upon this theme no less Look thou, Maecenas, with indulgent eye. A marvellous display of puny powers, High-hearted chiefs, a nation's history, Its traits, its bent, its battles and its clans, All, each, shall pass before you, while I sing. Slight though the poet's theme, not slight the praise, So frown not heaven, and Phoebus hear his call. First find your bees a settled sure abode, Where neither winds can enter (winds blow back The foragers with food returning home)
Nor sheep and butting kids tread down the flowers, Nor heifer wandering wide upon the plain Dash off the dew, and bruise the springing blades. Let the gay lizard too keep far aloof His scale-clad body from their honied stalls, And the bee-eater, and what birds beside, And Procne smirched with blood upon the breast From her own murderous hands. For these roam wide Wasting all substance, or the bees themselves Strike flying, and in their beaks bear home, to glut Those savage nestlings with the dainty prey. But let clear springs and moss-green pools be near,
And through the grass a streamlet hurrying run, Some palm-tree o'er the porch extend its shade, Or huge-grown oleaster, that in Spring, Their own sweet Spring-tide, when the new-made chiefs Lead forth the young swarms, and, escaped their comb, The colony comes forth to sport and play, The neighbouring bank may lure them from the heat, Or bough befriend with hospitable shade. O'er the mid-waters, whether swift or still, Cast willow-branches and big stones enow, Bridge after bridge, where they may footing find And spread their wide wings to the summer sun,
If haply Eurus, swooping as they pause, Have dashed with spray or plunged them in the deep. And let green cassias and far-scented thymes, And savory with its heavy-laden breath Bloom round about, and violet-beds hard by Sip sweetness from the fertilizing springs. For the hive's self, or stitched of hollow bark, Or from tough osier woven, let the doors Be strait of entrance; for stiff winter's cold Congeals the honey, and heat resolves and thaws, To bees alike disastrous; not for naught So haste they to cement the tiny pores
That pierce their walls, and fill the crevices With pollen from the flowers, and glean and keep To this same end the glue, that binds more fast Than bird-lime or the pitch from Ida's pines. Oft too in burrowed holes, if fame be true, They make their cosy subterranean home, And deeply lodged in hollow rocks are found, Or in the cavern of an age-hewn tree. Thou not the less smear round their crannied cribs With warm smooth mud-coat, and strew leaves above; But near their home let neither yew-tree grow, Nor reddening crabs be roasted, and mistrust
Deep marish-ground and mire with noisome smell, Or where the hollow rocks sonorous ring, And the word spoken buffets and rebounds. What more? When now the golden sun has put Winter to headlong flight beneath the world, And oped the doors of heaven with summer ray, Forthwith they roam the glades and forests o'er, Rifle the painted flowers, or sip the streams, Light-hovering on the surface. Hence it is With some sweet rapture, that we know not of, Their little ones they foster, hence with skill Work out new wax or clinging honey mould.
So when the cage-escaped hosts you see Float heavenward through the hot clear air, until You marvel at yon dusky cloud that spreads And lengthens on the wind, then mark them well; For then 'tis ever the fresh springs they seek And bowery shelter: hither must you bring The savoury sweets I bid, and sprinkle them, Bruised balsam and the wax-flower's lowly weed, And wake and shake the tinkling cymbals heard By the great Mother: on the anointed spots Themselves will settle, and in wonted wise Seek of themselves the cradle's inmost depth.
But if to battle they have hied them forth— For oft 'twixt king and king with uproar dire Fierce feud arises, and at once from far You may discern what passion sways the mob, And how their hearts are throbbing for the strife; Hark! the hoarse brazen note that warriors know Chides on the loiterers, and the ear may catch A sound that mocks the war-trump's broken blasts; Then in hot haste they muster, then flash wings, Sharpen their pointed beaks and knit their thews, And round the king, even to his royal tent, Throng rallying, and with shouts defy the foe.
So, when a dry Spring and clear space is given, Forth from the gates they burst, they clash on high; A din arises; they are heaped and rolled Into one mighty mass, and headlong fall, Not denselier hail through heaven, nor pelting so Rains from the shaken oak its acorn-shower. Conspicuous by their wings the chiefs themselves Press through the heart of battle, and display A giant's spirit in each pigmy frame, Steadfast no inch to yield till these or those The victor's ponderous arm has turned to flight. Such fiery passions and such fierce assaults
A little sprinkled dust controls and quells. And now, both leaders from the field recalled, Who hath the worser seeming, do to death, Lest royal waste wax burdensome, but let His better lord it on the empty throne. One with gold-burnished flakes will shine like fire, For twofold are their kinds, the nobler he, Of peerless front and lit with flashing scales; That other, from neglect and squalor foul, Drags slow a cumbrous belly. As with kings, So too with people, diverse is their mould, Some rough and loathly, as when the wayfarer
Scapes from a whirl of dust, and scorched with heat Spits forth the dry grit from his parched mouth: The others shine forth and flash with lightning-gleam, Their backs all blazoned with bright drops of gold Symmetric: this the likelier breed; from these, When heaven brings round the season, thou shalt strain Sweet honey, nor yet so sweet as passing clear, And mellowing on the tongue the wine-god's fire. But when the swarms fly aimlessly abroad, Disport themselves in heaven and spurn their cells, Leaving the hive unwarmed, from such vain play Must you refrain their volatile desires,
Nor hard the task: tear off the monarchs' wings; While these prove loiterers, none beside will dare Mount heaven, or pluck the standards from the camp. Let gardens with the breath of saffron flowers Allure them, and the lord of Hellespont, Priapus, wielder of the willow-scythe, Safe in his keeping hold from birds and thieves. And let the man to whom such cares are dear Himself bring thyme and pine-trees from the heights, And strew them in broad belts about their home; No hand but his the blistering task should ply, Plant the young slips, or shed the genial showers.
And I myself, were I not even now Furling my sails, and, nigh the journey's end, Eager to turn my vessel's prow to shore, Perchance would sing what careful husbandry Makes the trim garden smile; of Paestum too, Whose roses bloom and fade and bloom again; How endives glory in the streams they drink, And green banks in their parsley, and how the gourd Twists through the grass and rounds him to paunch; Nor of Narcissus had my lips been dumb, That loiterer of the flowers, nor supple-stemmed Acanthus, with the praise of ivies pale,
And myrtles clinging to the shores they love. For 'neath the shade of tall Oebalia's towers, Where dark Galaesus laves the yellowing fields, An old man once I mind me to have seen— From Corycus he came—to whom had fallen Some few poor acres of neglected land, And they nor fruitful' neath the plodding steer, Meet for the grazing herd, nor good for vines. Yet he, the while his meagre garden-herbs Among the thorns he planted, and all round White lilies, vervains, and lean poppy set, In pride of spirit matched the wealth of kings,
And home returning not till night was late, With unbought plenty heaped his board on high. He was the first to cull the rose in spring, He the ripe fruits in autumn; and ere yet Winter had ceased in sullen ire to rive The rocks with frost, and with her icy bit Curb in the running waters, there was he Plucking the rathe faint hyacinth, while he chid Summer's slow footsteps and the lagging West. Therefore he too with earliest brooding bees And their full swarms o'erflowed, and first was he To press the bubbling honey from the comb;
Lime-trees were his, and many a branching pine; And all the fruits wherewith in early bloom The orchard-tree had clothed her, in full tale Hung there, by mellowing autumn perfected. He too transplanted tall-grown elms a-row, Time-toughened pear, thorns bursting with the plum And plane now yielding serviceable shade For dry lips to drink under: but these things, Shut off by rigorous limits, I pass by, And leave for others to sing after me. Come, then, I will unfold the natural powers Great Jove himself upon the bees bestowed,
The boon for which, led by the shrill sweet strains Of the Curetes and their clashing brass, They fed the King of heaven in Dicte's cave. Alone of all things they receive and hold Community of offspring, and they house Together in one city, and beneath The shelter of majestic laws they live; And they alone fixed home and country know, And in the summer, warned of coming cold, Make proof of toil, and for the general store Hoard up their gathered harvesting. For some Watch o'er the victualling of the hive, and these
By settled order ply their tasks afield; And some within the confines of their home Plant firm the comb's first layer, Narcissus' tear, And sticky gum oozed from the bark of trees, Then set the clinging wax to hang therefrom. Others the while lead forth the full-grown young, Their country's hope, and others press and pack The thrice repured honey, and stretch their cells To bursting with the clear-strained nectar sweet. Some, too, the wardship of the gates befalls, Who watch in turn for showers and cloudy skies, Or ease returning labourers of their load,
Or form a band and from their precincts drive The drones, a lazy herd. How glows the work! How sweet the honey smells of perfumed thyme Like the Cyclopes, when in haste they forge From the slow-yielding ore the thunderbolts, Some from the bull's-hide bellows in and out Let the blasts drive, some dip i' the water-trough The sputtering metal: with the anvil's weight Groans Etna: they alternately in time With giant strength uplift their sinewy arms, Or twist the iron with the forceps' grip— Not otherwise, to measure small with great,
The love of getting planted in their breasts Goads on the bees, that haunt old Cecrops' heights, Each in his sphere to labour. The old have charge To keep the town, and build the walled combs, And mould the cunning chambers; but the youth, Their tired legs packed with thyme, come labouring home Belated, for afar they range to feed On arbutes and the grey-green willow-leaves, And cassia and the crocus blushing red, Glue-yielding limes, and hyacinths dusky-eyed. One hour for rest have all, and one for toil: With dawn they hurry from the gates—no room
For loiterers there: and once again, when even Now bids them quit their pasturing on the plain, Then homeward make they, then refresh their strength: A hum arises: hark! they buzz and buzz About the doors and threshold; till at length Safe laid to rest they hush them for the night, And welcome slumber laps their weary limbs. But from the homestead not too far they fare, When showers hang like to fall, nor, east winds nigh, Confide in heaven, but 'neath the city walls Safe-circling fetch them water, or essay Brief out-goings, and oft weigh-up tiny stones,
As light craft ballast in the tossing tide, Wherewith they poise them through the cloudy vast. This law of life, too, by the bees obeyed, Will move thy wonder, that nor sex with sex Yoke they in marriage, nor yield their limbs to love, Nor know the pangs of labour, but alone From leaves and honied herbs, the mothers, each, Gather their offspring in their mouths, alone Supply new kings and pigmy commonwealth, And their old court and waxen realm repair. Oft, too, while wandering, against jagged stones Their wings they fray, and 'neath the burden yield
Their liberal lives: so deep their love of flowers, So glorious deem they honey's proud acquist. Therefore, though each a life of narrow span, Ne'er stretched to summers more than seven, befalls, Yet deathless doth the race endure, and still Perennial stands the fortune of their line, From grandsire unto grandsire backward told. Moreover, not Aegyptus, nor the realm Of boundless Lydia, no, nor Parthia's hordes, Nor Median Hydaspes, to their king Do such obeisance: lives the king unscathed, One will inspires the million: is he dead,
Snapt is the bond of fealty; they themselves Ravage their toil-wrought honey, and rend amain Their own comb's waxen trellis. He is the lord Of all their labour; him with awful eye They reverence, and with murmuring throngs surround, In crowds attend, oft shoulder him on high, Or with their bodies shield him in the fight, And seek through showering wounds a glorious death. Led by these tokens, and with such traits to guide, Some say that unto bees a share is given Of the Divine Intelligence, and to drink Pure draughts of ether; for God permeates all—
Earth, and wide ocean, and the vault of heaven— From whom flocks, herds, men, beasts of every kind, Draw each at birth the fine essential flame; Yea, and that all things hence to Him return, Brought back by dissolution, nor can death Find place: but, each into his starry rank, Alive they soar, and mount the heights of heaven. If now their narrow home thou wouldst unseal, And broach the treasures of the honey-house, With draught of water first toment thy lips, And spread before thee fumes of trailing smoke. Twice is the teeming produce gathered in,
Twofold their time of harvest year by year, Once when Taygete the Pleiad uplifts Her comely forehead for the earth to see, With foot of scorn spurning the ocean-streams, Once when in gloom she flies the watery Fish, And dips from heaven into the wintry wave. Unbounded then their wrath; if hurt, they breathe Venom into their bite, cleave to the veins And let the sting lie buried, and leave their lives Behind them in the wound. But if you dread Too rigorous a winter, and would fain Temper the coming time, and their bruised hearts
And broken estate to pity move thy soul, Yet who would fear to fumigate with thyme, Or cut the empty wax away? for oft Into their comb the newt has gnawed unseen, And the light-loathing beetles crammed their bed, And he that sits at others' board to feast, The do-naught drone; or 'gainst the unequal foe Swoops the fierce hornet, or the moth's fell tribe; Or spider, victim of Minerva's spite, Athwart the doorway hangs her swaying net. The more impoverished they, the keenlier all To mend the fallen fortunes of their race
Will nerve them, fill the cells up, tier on tier, And weave their granaries from the rifled flowers. Now, seeing that life doth even to bee-folk bring Our human chances, if in dire disease Their bodies' strength should languish—which anon By no uncertain tokens may be told— Forthwith the sick change hue; grim leanness mars Their visage; then from out the cells they bear Forms reft of light, and lead the mournful pomp; Or foot to foot about the porch they hang, Or within closed doors loiter, listless all From famine, and benumbed with shrivelling cold.
Then is a deep note heard, a long-drawn hum, As when the chill South through the forests sighs, As when the troubled ocean hoarsely booms With back-swung billow, as ravening tide of fire Surges, shut fast within the furnace-walls. Then do I bid burn scented galbanum, And, honey-streams through reeden troughs instilled, Challenge and cheer their flagging appetite To taste the well-known food; and it shall boot To mix therewith the savour bruised from gall, And rose-leaves dried, or must to thickness boiled By a fierce fire, or juice of raisin-grapes
From Psithian vine, and with its bitter smell Centaury, and the famed Cecropian thyme. There is a meadow-flower by country folk Hight star-wort; 'tis a plant not far to seek; For from one sod an ample growth it rears, Itself all golden, but girt with plenteous leaves, Where glory of purple shines through violet gloom. With chaplets woven hereof full oft are decked Heaven's altars: harsh its taste upon the tongue; Shepherds in vales smooth-shorn of nibbling flocks By Mella's winding waters gather it. The roots of this, well seethed in fragrant wine,
Set in brimmed baskets at their doors for food. But if one's whole stock fail him at a stroke, Nor hath he whence to breed the race anew, 'Tis time the wondrous secret to disclose Taught by the swain of Arcady, even how The blood of slaughtered bullocks oft has borne Bees from corruption. I will trace me back To its prime source the story's tangled thread, And thence unravel. For where thy happy folk, Canopus, city of Pellaean fame, Dwell by the Nile's lagoon-like overflow, And high o'er furrows they have called their own
Skim in their painted wherries; where, hard by, The quivered Persian presses, and that flood Which from the swart-skinned Aethiop bears him down, Swift-parted into sevenfold branching mouths With black mud fattens and makes Aegypt green, That whole domain its welfare's hope secure Rests on this art alone. And first is chosen A strait recess, cramped closer to this end, Which next with narrow roof of tiles atop 'Twixt prisoning walls they pinch, and add hereto From the four winds four slanting window-slits. Then seek they from the herd a steer, whose horns
With two years' growth are curling, and stop fast, Plunge madly as he may, the panting mouth And nostrils twain, and done with blows to death, Batter his flesh to pulp i' the hide yet whole, And shut the doors, and leave him there to lie. But 'neath his ribs they scatter broken boughs, With thyme and fresh-pulled cassias: this is done When first the west winds bid the waters flow, Ere flush the meadows with new tints, and ere The twittering swallow buildeth from the beams. Meanwhile the juice within his softened bones Heats and ferments, and things of wondrous birth,
Footless at first, anon with feet and wings, Swarm there and buzz, a marvel to behold; And more and more the fleeting breeze they take, Till, like a shower that pours from summer-clouds, Forth burst they, or like shafts from quivering string When Parthia's flying hosts provoke the fray. Say what was he, what God, that fashioned forth This art for us, O Muses? of man's skill Whence came the new adventure? From thy vale, Peneian Tempe, turning, bee-bereft, So runs the tale, by famine and disease, Mournful the shepherd Aristaeus stood
Fast by the haunted river-head, and thus With many a plaint to her that bare him cried: “Mother, Cyrene, mother, who hast thy home Beneath this whirling flood, if he thou sayest, Apollo, lord of Thymbra, be my sire, Sprung from the Gods' high line, why barest thou me With fortune's ban for birthright? Where is now Thy love to me-ward banished from thy breast? O! wherefore didst thou bid me hope for heaven? Lo! even the crown of this poor mortal life, Which all my skilful care by field and fold, No art neglected, scarce had fashioned forth,
Even this falls from me, yet thou call'st me son. Nay, then, arise! With thine own hands pluck up My fruit-plantations: on the homestead fling Pitiless fire; make havoc of my crops; Burn the young plants, and wield the stubborn axe Against my vines, if there hath taken the Such loathing of my greatness.” But that cry, Even from her chamber in the river-deeps, His mother heard: around her spun the nymphs Milesian wool stained through with hyaline dye, Drymo, Xantho, Ligea, Phyllodoce,
Their glossy locks o'er snowy shoulders shed, Cydippe and Lycorias yellow-haired, A maiden one, one newly learned even then To bear Lucina's birth-pang. Clio, too, And Beroe, sisters, ocean-children both, Both zoned with gold and girt with dappled fell, Ephyre and Opis, and from Asian meads Deiopea, and, bow at length laid by, Fleet-footed Arethusa. But in their midst Fair Clymene was telling o'er the tale Of Vulcan's idle vigilance and the stealth Of Mars' sweet rapine, and from Chaos old
Counted the jostling love-joys of the Gods. Charmed by whose lay, the while their woolly tasks With spindles down they drew, yet once again Smote on his mother's ears the mournful plaint Of Aristaeus; on their glassy thrones Amazement held them all; but Arethuse Before the rest put forth her auburn head, Peering above the wave-top, and from far Exclaimed, “Cyrene, sister, not for naught Scared by a groan so deep, behold! 'tis he, Even Aristaeus, thy heart's fondest care, Here by the brink of the Peneian sire
Stands woebegone and weeping, and by name Cries out upon thee for thy cruelty.” To whom, strange terror knocking at her heart, “Bring, bring him to our sight,” the mother cried; “His feet may tread the threshold even of Gods.” So saying, she bids the flood yawn wide and yield A pathway for his footsteps; but the wave Arched mountain-wise closed round him, and within Its mighty bosom welcomed, and let speed To the deep river-bed. And now, with eyes Of wonder gazing on his mother's hall And watery kingdom and cave-prisoned pools
And echoing groves, he went, and, stunned by that Stupendous whirl of waters, separate saw All streams beneath the mighty earth that glide, Phasis and Lycus, and that fountain-head Whence first the deep Enipeus leaps to light, Whence father Tiber, and whence Anio's flood, And Hypanis that roars amid his rocks, And Mysian Caicus, and, bull-browed 'Twixt either gilded horn, Eridanus, Than whom none other through the laughing plains More furious pours into the purple sea. Soon as the chamber's hanging roof of stone
Was gained, and now Cyrene from her son Had heard his idle weeping, in due course Clear water for his hands the sisters bring, With napkins of shorn pile, while others heap The board with dainties, and set on afresh The brimming goblets; with Panchaian fires Upleap the altars; then the mother spake, “Take beakers of Maconian wine,” she said, “Pour we to Ocean.” Ocean, sire of all, She worships, and the sister-nymphs who guard The hundred forests and the hundred streams; Thrice Vesta's fire with nectar clear she dashed,
Thrice to the roof-top shot the flame and shone: Armed with which omen she essayed to speak: “In Neptune's gulf Carpathian dwells a seer, Caerulean Proteus, he who metes the main With fish-drawn chariot of two-footed steeds; Now visits he his native home once more, Pallene and the Emathian ports; to him We nymphs do reverence, ay, and Nereus old; For all things knows the seer, both those which are And have been, or which time hath yet to bring; So willed it Neptune, whose portentous flocks, And loathly sea-calves 'neath the surge he feeds.
Him first, my son, behoves thee seize and bind That he may all the cause of sickness show, And grant a prosperous end. For save by force No rede will he vouchsafe, nor shalt thou bend His soul by praying; whom once made captive, ply With rigorous force and fetters; against these His wiles will break and spend themselves in vain. I, when the sun has lit his noontide fires, When the blades thirst, and cattle love the shade, Myself will guide thee to the old man's haunt, Whither he hies him weary from the waves, That thou mayst safelier steal upon his sleep.
But when thou hast gripped him fast with hand and gyve, Then divers forms and bestial semblances Shall mock thy grasp; for sudden he will change To bristly boar, fell tigress, dragon scaled, And tawny-tufted lioness, or send forth A crackling sound of fire, and so shake of The fetters, or in showery drops anon Dissolve and vanish. But the more he shifts His endless transformations, thou, my son, More straitlier clench the clinging bands, until His body's shape return to that thou sawest, When with closed eyelids first he sank to sleep.”
So saying, an odour of ambrosial dew She sheds around, and all his frame therewith Steeps throughly; forth from his trim-combed locks Breathed effluence sweet, and a lithe vigour leapt Into his limbs. There is a cavern vast Scooped in the mountain-side, where wave on wave By the wind's stress is driven, and breaks far up Its inmost creeks—safe anchorage from of old For tempest-taken mariners: therewithin, Behind a rock's huge barrier, Proteus hides. Here in close covert out of the sun's eye The youth she places, and herself the while
Swathed in a shadowy mist stands far aloof. And now the ravening dog-star that burns up The thirsty Indians blazed in heaven; his course The fiery sun had half devoured: the blades Were parched, and the void streams with droughty jaws Baked to their mud-beds by the scorching ray, When Proteus seeking his accustomed cave Strode from the billows: round him frolicking The watery folk that people the waste sea Sprinkled the bitter brine-dew far and wide. Along the shore in scattered groups to feed The sea-calves stretch them: while the seer himself,
Like herdsman on the hills when evening bids The steers from pasture to their stall repair, And the lambs' bleating whets the listening wolves, Sits midmost on the rock and tells his tale. But Aristaeus, the foe within his clutch, Scarce suffering him compose his aged limbs, With a great cry leapt on him, and ere he rose Forestalled him with the fetters; he nathless, All unforgetful of his ancient craft, Transforms himself to every wondrous thing, Fire and a fearful beast, and flowing stream. But when no trickery found a path for flight,
Baffled at length, to his own shape returned, With human lips he spake, “Who bade thee, then, So reckless in youth's hardihood, affront Our portals? or what wouldst thou hence?”—But he, “Proteus, thou knowest, of thine own heart thou knowest; For thee there is no cheating, but cease thou To practise upon me: at heaven's behest I for my fainting fortunes hither come An oracle to ask thee.” There he ceased. Whereat the seer, by stubborn force constrained, Shot forth the grey light of his gleaming eyes Upon him, and with fiercely gnashing teeth
Unlocks his lips to spell the fates of heaven: “Doubt not 'tis wrath divine that plagues thee thus, Nor light the debt thou payest; 'tis Orpheus' self, Orpheus unhappy by no fault of his, So fates prevent not, fans thy penal fires, Yet madly raging for his ravished bride. She in her haste to shun thy hot pursuit Along the stream, saw not the coming death, Where at her feet kept ward upon the bank In the tall grass a monstrous water-snake. But with their cries the Dryad-band her peers Filled up the mountains to their proudest peaks:
Wailed for her fate the heights of Rhodope, And tall Pangaea, and, beloved of Mars, The land that bowed to Rhesus, Thrace no less With Hebrus' stream; and Orithyia wept, Daughter of Acte old. But Orpheus' self, Soothing his love-pain with the hollow shell, Thee his sweet wife on the lone shore alone, Thee when day dawned and when it died he sang. Nay to the jaws of Taenarus too he came, Of Dis the infernal palace, and the grove Grim with a horror of great darkness—came, Entered, and faced the Manes and the King
Of terrors, the stone heart no prayer can tame. Then from the deepest deeps of Erebus, Wrung by his minstrelsy, the hollow shades Came trooping, ghostly semblances of forms Lost to the light, as birds by myriads hie To greenwood boughs for cover, when twilight-hour Or storms of winter chase them from the hills; Matrons and men, and great heroic frames Done with life's service, boys, unwedded girls, Youths placed on pyre before their fathers' eyes. Round them, with black slime choked and hideous weed, Cocytus winds; there lies the unlovely swamp
Of dull dead water, and, to pen them fast, Styx with her ninefold barrier poured between. Nay, even the deep Tartarean Halls of death Stood lost in wonderment, and the Eumenides, Their brows with livid locks of serpents twined; Even Cerberus held his triple jaws agape, And, the wind hushed, Ixion's wheel stood still. And now with homeward footstep he had passed All perils scathless, and, at length restored, Eurydice to realms of upper air Had well-nigh won, behind him following— So Proserpine had ruled it—when his heart
A sudden mad desire surprised and seized— Meet fault to be forgiven, might Hell forgive. For at the very threshold of the day, Heedless, alas! and vanquished of resolve, He stopped, turned, looked upon Eurydice His own once more. But even with the look, Poured out was all his labour, broken the bond Of that fell tyrant, and a crash was heard Three times like thunder in the meres of hell. ‘Orpheus! what ruin hath thy frenzy wrought On me, alas! and thee? Lo! once again The unpitying fates recall me, and dark sleep
Closes my swimming eyes. And now farewell: Girt with enormous night I am borne away, Outstretching toward thee, thine, alas! no more, These helpless hands.’ She spake, and suddenly, Like smoke dissolving into empty air, Passed and was sundered from his sight; nor him Clutching vain shadows, yearning sore to speak, Thenceforth beheld she, nor no second time Hell's boatman brooks he pass the watery bar. What should he do? fly whither, twice bereaved? Move with what tears the Manes, with what voice The Powers of darkness? She indeed even now
Death-cold was floating on the Stygian barge! For seven whole months unceasingly, men say, Beneath a skyey crag, by thy lone wave, Strymon, he wept, and in the caverns chill Unrolled his story, melting tigers' hearts, And leading with his lay the oaks along. As in the poplar-shade a nightingale Mourns her lost young, which some relentless swain, Spying, from the nest has torn unfledged, but she Wails the long night, and perched upon a spray With sad insistence pipes her dolorous strain, Till all the region with her wrongs o'erflows.
No love, no new desire, constrained his soul: By snow-bound Tanais and the icy north, Far steppes to frost Rhipaean forever wed, Alone he wandered, lost Eurydice Lamenting, and the gifts of Dis ungiven. Scorned by which tribute the Ciconian dames, Amid their awful Bacchanalian rites And midnight revellings, tore him limb from limb, And strewed his fragments over the wide fields. Then too, even then, what time the Hebrus stream, Oeagrian Hebrus, down mid-current rolled, Rent from the marble neck, his drifting head,
The death-chilled tongue found yet a voice to cry ‘Eurydice! ah! poor Eurydice!’ With parting breath he called her, and the banks From the broad stream caught up ‘Eurydice!’” So Proteus ending plunged into the deep, And, where he plunged, beneath the eddying whirl Churned into foam the water, and was gone; But not Cyrene, who unquestioned thus Bespake the trembling listener: “Nay, my son, From that sad bosom thou mayst banish care: Hence came that plague of sickness, hence the nymphs, With whom in the tall woods the dance she wove,
Wrought on thy bees, alas! this deadly bane. Bend thou before the Dell-nymphs, gracious powers: Bring gifts, and sue for pardon: they will grant Peace to thine asking, and an end of wrath. But how to approach them will I first unfold— Four chosen bulls of peerless form and bulk, That browse to-day the green Lycaean heights, Pick from thy herds, as many kine to match, Whose necks the yoke pressed never: then for these Build up four altars by the lofty fanes, And from their throats let gush the victims' blood, And in the greenwood leave their bodies lone.
Then, when the ninth dawn hath displayed its beams, To Orpheus shalt thou send his funeral dues, Poppies of Lethe, and let slay a sheep Coal-black, then seek the grove again, and soon For pardon found adore Eurydice With a slain calf for victim.” No delay: The self-same hour he hies him forth to do His mother's bidding: to the shrine he came, The appointed altars reared, and thither led Four chosen bulls of peerless form and bulk, With kine to match, that never yoke had known;
Then, when the ninth dawn had led in the day, To Orpheus sent his funeral dues, and sought The grove once more. But sudden, strange to tell A portent they espy: through the oxen's flesh, Waxed soft in dissolution, hark! there hum Bees from the belly; the rent ribs overboil In endless clouds they spread them, till at last On yon tree-top together fused they cling, And drop their cluster from the bending boughs. So sang I of the tilth of furrowed fields, Of flocks and trees, while Caesar's majesty Launched forth the levin-bolts of war by deep
Euphrates, and bare rule o'er willing folk Though vanquished, and essayed the heights of heaven. I Virgil then, of sweet Parthenope The nursling, wooed the flowery walks of peace Inglorious, who erst trilled for shepherd-wights The wanton ditty, and sang in saucy youth Thee, Tityrus, 'neath the spreading beech tree's shade.
Book 1
Quid faciat laetas segetes, quo sidere terram vertere, Maecenas, ulmisque adiungere vitis conveniat, quae cura boum, qui cultus habendo sit pecori, apibus quanta experientia parcis, hinc canere incipiam. Vos, o clarissima mundi lumina, labentem caelo quae ducitis annum, Liber et alma Ceres, vestro si munere tellus Chaoniam pingui glandem mutavit arista, poculaque inventis Acheloia miscuit uvis; et vos, agrestum praesentia numina, Fauni, ferte simul Faunique pedem Dryadesque puellae: Munera vestra cano. Tuque o, cui prima frementem
fudit equum magno tellus percussa tridenti, Neptune; et cultor nemorum, cui pinguia Ceae ter centum nivei tondent dumeta iuvenci; ipse nemus linquens patrium saltusque Lycaei, Pan, ovium custos, tua si tibi Maenala curae, adsis, o Tegeaee, favens, oleaeque Minerva inventrix, uncique puer monstrator aratri, et teneram ab radice ferens, Silvane, cupressum, dique deaeque omnes, studium quibus arva tueri, quique novas alitis non ullo semine fruges, quique satis largum caelo demittitis imbrem; tuque adeo, quem mox quae sint habitura deorum
concilia, incertum est, urbisne invisere, Caesar, terrarumque velis curam et te maximus orbis auctorem frugum tempestatumque potentem accipiat, cingens materna tempora myrto, an deus inmensi venias maris ac tua nautae numina sola colant, tibi serviat ultima Thule teque sibi generum Tethys emat omnibus undis, anne novum tardis sidus te mensibus addas, qua locus Erigonen inter Chelasque sequentis panditur—ipse tibi iam bracchia contrahit ardens Scorpius et caeli iusta plus parte reliquit— quidquid eris,—nam te nec sperant Tartara regem
nec tibi regnandi veniat tam dira cupido, quamvis Elysios miretur Graecia campos nec repetita sequi curet Proserpina matrem— da facilem cursum atque audacibus adnue coeptis ignarosque viae mecum miseratus agrestis ingredere et votis iam nunc adsuesce vocari. Vere novo, gelidus canis cum montibus humor liquitur et Zephyro putris se glaeba resolvit, depresso incipiat iam tum mihi taurus aratro ingemere et sulco attritus splendescere vomer. Illa seges demum votis respondet avari agricolae, bis quae solem, bis frigora sensit;
illius inmensae ruperunt horrea messes. At prius ignotum ferro quam scindimus aequor, ventos et varium caeli praediscere morem cura sit ac patrios cultusque habitusque locorum et quid quaeque ferat regio et quid quaeque recuset. Hic segetes, illic veniunt felicius uvae, arborei fetus alibi, atque iniussa virescunt gramina. Nonne vides, croceos ut Tmolus odores, India mittit ebur, molles sua tura Sabaei, at Chalybes nudi ferrum, virosaque Pontus castorea, Eliadum palmas Epiros equarum. Continuo has leges aeternaque foedera certis
inposuit natura locis, quo tempore primum Deucalion vacuum lapides iactavit in orbem, unde homines nati, durum genus. Ergo age, terrae pingue solum primis extemplo a mensibus anni fortes invertant tauri glaebasque iacentis pulverulenta coquat maturis solibus aestas; at si non fuerit tellus fecunda, sub ipsum Arcturum tenui sat erit suspendere sulco: illic, officiant laetis ne frugibus herbae, hic, sterilem exiguus ne deserat humor harenam. Alternis idem tonsas cessare novalis et segnem patiere situ durescere campum;
aut ibi flava seres mutato sidere farra, unde prius laetum siliqua quassante legumen aut tenuis fetus viciae tristisque lupini sustuleris fragilis calamos silvamque sonantem. Urit enim lini campum seges, urit avenae, urunt Lethaeo perfusa papavera somno: sed tamen alternis facilis labor, arida tantum ne saturare fimo pingui pudeat sola neve effetos cinerem inmundum iactare per agros. Sic quoque mutatis requiescunt fetibus arva; nec nulla interea est inaratae gratia terrae. Saepe etiam sterilis incendere profuit agros
atque levem stipulam crepitantibus urere flammis: sive inde occultas viris et pabula terrae pinguia concipiunt, sive illis omne per ignem excoquitur vitium atque exsudat inutilis humor, seu pluris calor ille vias et caeca relaxat spiramenta, novas veniat qua sucus in herbas, seu durat magis et venas adstringit hiantis, ne tenues pluviae rapidive potentia solis acrior aut Boreae penetrabile frigus adurat. Multum adeo, rastris glaebas qui frangit inertis vimineasque trahit cratis, iuvat arva, neque illum flava Ceres alto nequiquam spectat Olympo;
et qui, proscisso quae suscitat aequore terga, rursus in obliquum verso perrumpit aratro, exercetque frequens tellurem atque imperat arvis. Humida solstitia atque hiemes orate serenas, agricolae; hiberno laetissima pulvere farra, laetus ager: nullo tantum se Mysia cultu iactat et ipsa suas mirantur Gargara messis. Quid dicam, iacto qui semine comminus arva insequitur cumulosque ruit male pinguis harenae deinde satis fluvium inducit rivosque sequentis et, cum exustus ager morientibus aestuat herbis, ecce supercilio clivosi tramitis undam
elicit. illa cadens raucum per levia murmur saxa ciet, scatebrisque arentia temperat arva. Quid qui, ne gravidis procumbat culmus aristis, luxuriem segetum tenera depascit in herba, cum primum sulcos aequant sata. quique paludis collectum humorem bibula deducit harena. Praesertim incertis si mensibus amnis abundans exit et obducto late tenet omnia limo, unde cavae tepido sudant humore lacunae. Nec tamen, haec cum sint hominumque boumque labores versando terram experti, nihil inprobus anser Strymoniaeque grues et amaris intiba fibris
officiunt aut umbra nocet. Pater ipse colendi haud facilem esse viam voluit, primusque per artem movit agros curis acuens mortalia corda nec torpere gravi passus sua regna veterno. Ante Iovem nulli subigebant arva coloni; ne signare quidem aut partiri limite campum fas erat: in medium quaerebant ipsaque tellus omnia liberius nullo poscente ferebat. Ille malum virus serpentibus addidit atris praedarique lupos iussit pontumque moveri, mellaque decussit foliis ignemque removit et passim rivis currentia vina repressit,
ut varias usus meditando extunderet artis paulatim et sulcis frumenti quaereret herbam. Tunc alnos primum fluvii sensere cavatas; navita tum stellis numeros et nomina fecit, Pleiadas, Hyadas, claramque Lycaonis Arcton; tum laqueis captare feras et fallere visco inventum et magnos canibus circumdare saltus; atque alius latum funda iam verberat amnem alta petens, pelagoque alius trahit humida lina; tum ferri rigor atque argutae lamina serrae,— nam primi cuneis scindebant fissile lignum tum variae venere artes. Labor omnia vicit
inprobus et duris urgens in rebus egestas. Prima Ceres ferro mortalis vertere terram instituit, cum iam glandes atque arbuta sacrae deficerent silvae et victum Dodona negaret. Mox et frumentis labor additus, ut mala culmos esset robigo segnisque horreret in arvis carduus; intereunt segetes, subit aspera silva, lappaeque tribolique, interque nitentia culta infelix lolium et steriles dominantur avenae. Quod nisi et adsiduis herbam insectabere rastris, et sonitu terrebis aves, et ruris opaci falce premes umbras votisque vocaveris imbrem,
heu magnum alterius frustra spectabis acervum, concussaque famem in silvis solabere quercu. Dicendum et, quae sint duris agrestibus arma, quis sine nec potuere seri nec surgere messes: vomis et inflexi primum grave robur aratri tardaque Eleusinae matris volventia plaustra tribulaque traheaeque et iniquo pondere rastri; virgea praeterea Celei vilisque supellex, arbuteae crates et mystica vannus Iacchi. Omnia quae multo ante memor provisa repones, si te digna manet divini gloria ruris. Continuo in silvis magna vi flexa domatur
in burim et curvi formam accipit ulmus aratri. Huic a stirpe pedes temo protentus in octo, binae aures, duplici aptantur dentalia dorso caeditur et tilia ante iugo levis altaque fagus, stivaque, quae currus a tergo torqueat imos, et suspensa focis explorat robora fumus. Possum multa tibi veterum praecepta referre, ni refugis tenuisque piget cognoscere curas. Area cum primis ingenti aequanda cylindro et vertenda manu et creta solidanda tenaci, ne subeant herbae neu pulvere victa fatiscat, tum variae inludant pestes: saepe exiguus mus
sub terris posuitque domos atque horrea fecit, aut oculis capti fodere cubilia talpae, inventusque cavis bufo et quae plurima terrae monstra ferunt, populatque ingentem farris acervum curculio atque inopi metuens formica senectae. Contemplator item, cum se nux plurima silvis induet in florem et ramos curvabit olentis. Si superant fetus, pariter frumenta sequentur magnaque cum magno veniet tritura calore; at si luxuria foliorum exuberat umbra, nequiquam pinguis palea teret area culmos. Semina vidi equidem multos medicare serentis
et nitro prius et nigra perfundere amurca, grandior ut fetus siliquis fallacibus esset, et, quamvis igni exiguo, properata maderent. Vidi lecta diu et multo spectata labore degenerare tamen, ni vis humana quot annis maxima quaeque manu legeret. Sic omnia fatis in peius ruere ac retro sublapsa referri, non aliter, quam qui adverso vix flumine lembum remigiis subigit, si bracchia forte remisit, atque illum in praeceps prono rapit alveus amni. Praeterea tam sunt Arcturi sidera nobis Haedorumque dies servandi et lucidus Anguis,
quam quibus in patriam ventosa per aequora vectis pontus et ostriferi fauces temptantur Abydi. Libra die somnique pares ubi fecerit horas et medium luci atque umbris iam dividit orbem, exercete, viri, tauros, serite hordea campis usque sub extremum brumae intractabilis imbrem; nec non et lini segetem et Cereale papaver tempus humo tegere et iamdudum incumbere aratris, dum sicca tellure licet, dum nubila pendent. Vere fabis satio; tum te quoque, Medica, putres accipiunt sulci et milio venit annua cura, candidus auratis aperit cum cornibus annum
Taurus et averso cedens Canis occidit astro. At si triticeam in messem robustaque farra exercebis humum solisque instabis aristis, ante tibi Eoae Atlantides abscondantur Gnosiaque ardentis decedat stella Coronae, debita quam sulcis committas semina quamque invitae properes anni spem credere terrae. Multi ante occasum Maiae coepere; sed illos exspectata seges vanis elusit avenis. Si vero viciamque seres vilemque phaselum nec Pelusiacae curam aspernabere lentis, haud obscura cadens mittet tibi signa Bootes:
incipe et ad medias sementem extende pruinas. Idcirco certis dimensum partibus orbem per duodena regit mundi Sol aureus astra. Quinque tenent caelum zonae; quarum una corusco semper sole rubens et torrida semper ab igni; quam circum extremae dextra laevaque trahuntur caeruleae, glacie concretae atque imbribus atris; has inter mediamque duae mortalibus aegris munere concessae divom, et via secta per ambas, obliquus qua se signorum verteret ordo. Mundus, ut ad Scythiam Rhipaeasque arduus arces consurgit, premitur Libyae devexus in austros.
Hic vertex nobis semper sublimis; at illum sub pedibus Styx atra videt Manesque profundi. Maximus hic flexu sinuoso elabitur Anguis circum perque duas in morem fluminis Arctos, Arctos Oceani metuentis aequore tingui. Illic, ut perhibent, aut intempesta silet nox, semper et obtenta densentur nocte tenebrae, aut redit a nobis Aurora diemque reducit; nosque ubi primus equis Oriens adflavit anhelis, illic, sera rubens accendit lumina Vesper. Hinc tempestates dubio praediscere caelo possumus, hinc messisque diem tempusque serendi,
et quando infidum remis inpellere marmor conveniat, quando armatas deducere classis, aut tempestivam silvis evertere pinum. Nec frustra signorum obitus speculamur et ortus, temporibusque parem diversis quattuor annum. Frigidus agricolam si quando continet imber, multa, forent quae mox caelo properanda sereno, maturare datur: durum procudit arator vomeris obtunsi dentem, cavat arbore lintres, aut pecori signum aut numeros inpressit acervis. Exacuunt alii vallos furcasque bicornis atque Amerina parant lentae retinacula viti.
Nunc facilis rubea texatur fiscina virga, nunc torrete igni fruges, nunc frangite saxo. Quippe etiam festis quaedam exercere diebus fas et iura sinunt; rivos deducere nulla religio vetuit, segeti praetendere saepem, insidias avibus moliri, incendere vepres, balantumque gregem fluvio mersare salubri. Saepe oleo tardi costas agitator aselli vilibus aut onerat pomis, lapidemque revertens incusum aut atrae massam picis urbe reportat. Ipsa dies alios alio dedit ordine Luna felicis operum. Quintam fuge: pallidus Orcus
Eumenidesque satae; tum partu Terra nefando Coeumque Iapetumque creat saevumque Typhoea et coniuratos caelum rescindere fratres. Ter sunt conati inponere Pelio Ossam scilicet, atque Ossae frondosum involvere Olympum; ter pater exstructos disiecit fulmine montis. Septima post decimam felix et ponere vitem et prensos domitare boves et licia telae addere: nona fugae melior, contraria furtis. Multa adeo gelida melius se nocte dedere, aut cum sole novo terras inrorat Eous. Nocte leves melius stipulae, nocte arida prata
tondentur, noctes lentus non deficit humor. Et quidam seros hiberni ad luminis ignis pervigilat ferroque faces inspicat acuto; interea longum cantu solata laborem arguto coniunx percurrit pectine telas, aut dulcis musti Volcano decoquit humorem et foliis undam trepidi despumat aeni. At rubicunda Ceres medio succiditur aestu et medio tostas aestu terit area fruges. Nudus ara, sere nudus; hiems ignava colono. Frigoribus parto agricolae plerumque fruuntur mutuaque inter se laeti convivia curant.
Invitat genialis hiems curasque resolvit, ceu pressae cum iam portum tetigere carinae, puppibus et laeti nautae inposuere coronas. Sed tamen et quernas glandes tum stringere tempus et lauri bacas oleamque cruentaque myrta, tum gruibus pedicas et retia ponere cervis auritosque sequi lepores, tum figere dammas, stuppea torquentem Balearis verbera fundae, cum nix alta iacet, glaciem cum flumina trudunt. Quid tempestates autumni et sidera dicam, atque, ubi iam breviorque dies et mollior aestas, quae vigilanda viris. vel cum ruit imbriferum ver,
spicea iam campis cum messis inhorruit et cum frumenta in viridi stipula lactentia turgent. Saepe ego, cum flavis messorem induceret arvis agricola et fragili iam stringeret hordea culmo, omnia ventorum concurrere proelia vidi, quae gravidam late segetem ab radicibus imis sublimem expulsam eruerent; ita turbine nigro ferret hiems culmumque levem stipulasque volantis. Saepe etiam inmensum caelo venit agmen aquarum et foedam glomerant tempestatem imbribus atris collectae ex alto nubes; ruit arduus aether et pluvia ingenti sata laeta boumque labores
diluit; inplentur fossae et cava flumina crescunt cum sonitu fervetque fretis spirantibus aequor. Ipse pater media nimborum in nocte corusca fulmina molitur dextra; quo maxuma motu terra tremit; fugere ferae et mortalia corda per gentis humilis stravit pavor; ille flagranti aut Athon aut Rhodopen aut alta Ceraunia telo deicit; ingeminant austri et densissimus imber; nunc nemora ingenti vento, nunc litora plangunt. Hoc metuens caeli menses et sidera serva, frigida Saturni sese quo stella receptet, quos ignis caelo Cyllenius erret in orbis.
In primis venerare deos atque annua magnae sacra refer Cereri laetis operatus in herbis extremae sub casum hiemis, iam vere sereno. Tum pingues agni et tum mollissima vina, tum somni dulces densaeque in montibus umbrae. Cuncta tibi Cererem pubes agrestis adoret; cui tu lacte favos et miti dilue Baccho, terque novas circum felix eat hostia fruges, omnis quam chorus et socii comitentur ovantes, et Cererem clamore vocent in tecta; neque ante falcem maturis quisquam supponat aristis, quam Cereri torta redimitus tempora quercu
det motus incompositos et carmina dicat. Atque haec ut certis possemus discere signis, aestusque pluviasque et agentis frigora ventos, ipse Pater statuit, quid menstrua Luna moneret, quo signo caderent austri, quid saepe videntes agricolae propius stabulis armenta tenerent. Continuo ventis surgentibus aut freta ponti incipiunt agitata tumescere et aridus altis montibus audiri fragor aut resonantia longe litora misceri et nemorum increbrescere murmur. Iam sibi tum a curvis male temperat unda carinis, cum medio celeres revolant ex aequore mergi
clamoremque ferunt ad litora, cumque marinae in sicco ludunt fulicae notasque paludes deserit atque altam supra volat ardea nubem. Saepe etiam stellas vento inpendente videbis praecipitis caelo labi noctisque per umbram flammarum longos a tergo albescere tractus; saepe levem paleam et frondes volitare caducas aut summa nantis in aqua colludere plumas. At Boreae de parte trucis cum fulminat et cum Eurique Zephyrique tonat domus: omnia plenis rura natant fossis atque omnis navita ponto humida vela legit. Numquam inprudentibus imber
obfuit: aut illum surgentem vallibus imis aëriae fugere grues, aut bucula caelum suspiciens patulis captavit naribus auras, aut arguta lacus circumvolitavit hirundo et veterem in limo ranae cecinere querelam. Saepius et tectis penetralibus extulit ova angustum formica terens iter et bibit ingens arcus et e pastu decedens agmine magno corvorum increpuit densis exercitus alis. Iam variae pelagi volucres et quae Asia circum dulcibus in stagnis rimantur prata Caystri, certatim largos umeris infundere rores:
nunc caput obiectare fretis, nunc currere in undas et studio incassum videas gestire lavandi. Tum cornix plena pluviam vocat inproba voce et sola in sicca secum spatiatur harena. Ne nocturna quidem carpentes pensa puellae nescivere hiemem, testa cum ardente viderent scintillare oleum et putris concrescere fungos. Nec minus ex imbri soles et aperta serena prospicere et certis poteris cognoscere signis: nam neque tum stellis acies obtunsa videtur, nec fratris radiis obnoxia surgere Luna, tenuia nec lanae per caelum vellera ferri;
non tepidum ad solem pinnas in litore pandunt dilectae Thetidi alcyones, non ore solutos inmundi meminere sues iactare maniplos. At nebulae magis ima petunt campoque recumbunt, solis et occasum servans de culmine summo nequiquam seros exercet noctua cantus. Adparet liquido sublimis in aëre Nisus et pro purpureo poenas dat Scylla capillo: quacumque illa levem fugiens secat aethera pinnis, ecce inimicus, atrox, magno stridore per auras insequitur Nisus; qua se fert Nisus ad auras, illa levem fugiens raptim secat aethera pinnis
Tum liquidas corvi presso ter gutture voces aut quater ingeminant, et saepe cubilibus altis nescio qua praeter solitum dulcedine laeti inter se in foliis strepitant; iuvat imbribus actis progeniem parvam dulcisque revisere nidos; haud equidem credo, quia sit divinitus illis ingenium aut rerum fato prudentia maior; verum ubi tempestas et caeli mobilis humor mutavere vias et Iuppiter uvidus austris denset, erant quae rara modo, et, quae densa, relaxat, vertuntur species animorum et pectora motus nunc alios, alios, dum nubila ventus agebat,
concipiunt: hinc ille avium concentus in agris et laetae pecudes et ovantes gutture corvi. Si vero solem ad rapidum lunasque sequentis ordine respicies, numquam te crastina fallet hora neque insidiis noctis capiere serenae. Luna, revertentis cum primum colligit ignis, si nigrum obscuro conprenderit aera cornu, maxumus agricolis pelagoque parabitur imber; at si virgineum suffuderit ore ruborem, ventus erit; vento semper rubet aurea Phoebe. Sin ortu quarto, namque is certissimus auctor, pura neque obtunsis per caelum cornibus ibit,
totus et ille dies et qui nascentur ab illo exactum ad mensem pluvia ventisque carebunt, votaque servati solvent in litore nautae Glauco et Panopeae et Inoo Melicertae. Sol quoque et exoriens et cum se condet in undas signa dabit; solem certissima signa sequuntur, et quae mane refert et quae surgentibus astris. Ille ubi nascentem maculis variaverit ortum conditus in nubem medioque refugerit orbe, suspecti tibi sint imbres; namque urget ab alto arboribusque satisque Notus pecorique sinister. Aut ubi sub lucem densa inter nubila sese
diversi rumpent radii aut ubi pallida surget Tithoni croceum linquens Aurora cubile, heu male tum mitis defendet pampinus uvas: tam multa in tectis crepitans salit horrida grando. Hoc etiam, emenso cum iam decedit Olympo, profuerit meminisse magis; nam saepe videmus ipsius in voltu varios errare colores: caeruleus pluviam denuntiat, igneus Euros; sin maculae incipient rutilo inmiscerier igni, omnia tum pariter vento nimbisque videbis fervere. Non illa quisquam me nocte per altum ire, neque a terra moneat convellere funem.
At si, cum referetque diem condetque relatum, lucidus orbis erit, frustra terrebere nimbis et claro silvas cernes Aquilone moveri. Denique quid vesper serus vehat, unde serenas ventus agat nubes, quid cogitet humidus Auster, sol tibi signa dabit. Solem quis dicere falsum audeat. Ille etiam caecos instare tumultus saepe monet fraudemque et operta tumescere bella. Ille etiam exstincto miseratus Caesare Romam, cum caput obscura nitidum ferrugine texit inpiaque aeternam timuerunt saecula noctem. Tempore quamquam illo tellus quoque et aequora ponti
obscenaeque canes inportunaeque volucres signa dabant. Quotiens Cyclopum effervere in agros vidimus undantem ruptis fornacibus Aetnam flammarumque globos liquefactaque volvere saxa! Armorum sonitum toto Germania caelo audiit, insolitis tremuerunt motibus Alpes. Vox quoque per lucos volgo exaudita silentis ingens et simulacra modis pallentia miris visa sub obscurum noctis, pecudesque locutae, infandum! sistunt amnes terraeque dehiscunt et maestum inlacrimat templis ebur aeraque sudant. Proluit insano contorquens vertice silvas
fluviorum rex Eridanus camposque per omnis cum stabulis armenta tulit. Nec tempore eodem tristibus aut extis fibrae adparere minaces aut puteis manare cruor cessavit et altae per noctem resonare lupis ululantibus urbes. Non alias caelo ceciderunt plura sereno fulgura nec diri totiens arsere cometae. ergo inter sese paribus concurrere telis Romanas acies iterum videre Philippi; nec fuit indignum superis, bis sanguine nostro Emathiam et latos Haemi pinguescere campos. Scilicet et tempus veniet, cum finibus illis
agricola incurvo terram molitus aratro exesa inveniet scabra robigine pila aut gravibus rastris galeas pulsabit inanis grandiaque effossis mirabitur ossa sepulchris. Di patrii, Indigetes, et Romule Vestaque mater, quae Tuscum Tiberim et Romana Palatia servas, hunc saltem everso iuvenem succurrere saeclo ne prohibete! Satis iam pridem sanguine nostro Laomedonteae luimus periuria Troiae; iam pridem nobis caeli te regia, Caesar, invidet atque hominum queritur curare triumphos; quippe ubi fas versum atque nefas: tot bella per orbem,
tam multae scelerum facies; non ullus aratro dignus honos, squalent abductis arva colonis et curvae rigidum falces conflantur in ensem. Hinc movet Euphrates, illinc Germania bellum; vicinae ruptis inter se legibus urbes arma ferunt; saevit toto Mars inpius orbe; ut cum carceribus sese effudere quadrigae, addunt in spatia et frustra retinacula tendens fertur equis auriga neque audit currus habenas.
Book 2
Hactenus arvorum cultus et sidera caeli, nunc te, Bacche, canam, nec non silvestria tecum virgulta et prolem tarde crescentis olivae. Huc, pater o Lenaee—tuis hic omnia plena muneribus, tibi pampineo gravidus autumno floret ager, spumat plenis vindemia labris— huc, pater o Lenaee, veni nudataque musto tingue novo mecum direptis crura cothurnis. Principio arboribus varia est natura creandis. namque aliae nullis hominum cogentibus ipsae sponte sua veniunt camposque et flumina late curva tenent, ut molle siler lentaeque genestae,
populus et glauca canentia fronde salicta; pars autem posito surgunt de semine, ut altae castaneae nemorumque Iovi quae maxima frondet aesculus atque habitae Grais oracula quercus. Pullulat ab radice aliis densissima silva, ut cerasis ulmisque; etiam Parnasia laurus parva sub ingenti matris se subicit umbra. Hos natura modos primum dedit, his genus omne silvarum fruticumque viret nemorumque sacrorum. Sunt aliae, quas ipse via sibi repperit usus. Hic plantas tenero abscindens de corpore matrum deposuit sulcis, hic stirpes obruit arvo
quadrifidasque sudes et acuto robore vallos; silvarumque aliae pressos propaginis arcus exspectant et viva sua plantaria terra; nil radicis egent aliae summumque putator haud dubitat terrae referens mandare cacumen. Quin et caudicibus sectis—mirabile dictu— truditur e sicco radix oleagina ligno. Et saepe alterius ramos inpune videmus vertere in alterius mutatamque insita mala ferre pirum et prunis lapidosa rubescere corna. Quare agite o proprios generatim discite cultus, agricolae, fructusque feros mollite colendo,
neu segnes iaceant terrae. Iuvat Ismara Baccho conserere atque olea magnum vestire Taburnum. Tuque ades inceptumque una decurre laborem, O decus, o famae merito pars maxima nostrae, Maecenas, pelagoque volans da vela patenti; non ego cuncta meis amplecti versibus opto, non, mihi si linguae centum sint oraque centum, ferrea vox; ades et primi lege litoris oram. In manibus terrae; non hic te carmine ficto atque per ambages et longa exorsa tenebo. Sponte sua quae se tollunt in luminis oras, infecunda quidem, sed laeta et fortia surgunt;
quippe solo natura subest. Tamen haec quoque, si quis inserat aut scrobibus mandet mutata subactis, exuerint silvestrem animum cultuque frequenti in quascumque voles artis haud tarda sequentur. Nec non et sterilis, quae stirpibus exit ab imis, hoc faciat, vacuos si sit digesta per agros; nunc altae frondes et rami matris opacant crescentique adimunt fetus uruntque ferentem. Iam quae seminibus iactis se sustulit arbos tarda venit seris factura nepotibus umbram, pomaque degenerant sucos oblita priores et turpis avibus praedam fert uva racemos.
Scilicet omnibus est labor inpendendus et omnes cogendae in sulcum ac multa mercede domandae. Sed truncis oleae melius, propagine vites respondent, solido Paphiae de robore myrtus; plantis et durae coryli nascuntur et ingens fraxinus Herculeaeque arbos umbrosa coronae Chaoniique patris glandes, etiam ardua palma nascitur et casus abies visura marinos. Inseritur vero et fetu nucis arbutus horrida, et steriles platani malos gessere valentis; castaneae fagus, ornusque incanuit albo flore piri glandemque sues fregere sub ulmis.
Nec modus inserere atque oculos inponere simplex. Nam qua se medio trudunt de cortice gemmae et tenuis rumpunt tunicas, angustus in ipso fit nodo sinus: huc aliena ex arbore germen includunt udoque docent inolescere libro. Aut rursum enodes trunci resecantur et alte finditur in solidum cuneis via, deinde feraces plantae inmittuntur: nec longum tempus, et ingens exsilit ad caelum ramis felicibus arbos miraturque novas frondes et non sua poma. Praeterea genus haud unum nec fortibus ulmis nec salici lotoque neque Idaeis cyparissis,
nec pingues unam in faciem nascuntur olivae, orchades et radii et amara pausia baca pomaque et Alcinoi silvae, nec surculus idem Crustumiis Syriisque piris gravibusque volemis. Non eadem arboribus pendet vindemia nostris, quam Methymnaeo carpit de palmite Lesbos; sunt Thasiae vites, sunt et Mareotides albae, pinguibus hae terris habiles, levioribus illae, et passo Psithia utilior tenuisque Lageos temptatura pedes olim vincturaque linguam, purpureae preciaeque, et quo te carmine dicam, Rhaetica? Nec cellis ideo contende Falernis.
Sunt et Amineae vites, firmissima vina, Tmolius adsurgit quibus et rex ipse Phanaeus; Argitisque minor, cui non certaverit ulla aut tantum fluere aut totidem durare per annos. Non ego te, Dis et mensis accepta secundis, transierim, Rhodia, et tumidis, Bumaste, racemis. Sed neque quam multae species nec nomina quae sint, est numerus; neque enim numero conprendere refert; quem qui scire velit, Libyci velit aequoris idem discere quam multae Zephyro turbentur harenae, aut ubi navigiis violentior incidit Eurus, nosse, quot Ionii veniant ad litora fluctus.
Nec vero terrae ferre omnes omnia possunt. fluminibus salices crassisque paludibus alni nascuntur, steriles saxosis montibus orni; litora myrtetis laetissima; denique apertos Bacchus amat collis, aquilonem et frigora taxi. Aspice et extremis domitum cultoribus orbem Eoasque domos Arabum pictosque Gelonos: divisae arboribus patriae. Sola India nigrum fert ebenum, solis est turea virga Sabaeis. Quid tibi odorato referam sudantia ligno balsamaque et bacas semper frondentis acanthi? Quid nemora Aethiopum molli canentia lana,
velleraque ut foliis depectant tenuia Seres; aut quos Oceano propior gerit India lucos, extremi sinus orbis, ubi aera vincere summum arboris haud ullae iactu potuere sagittae? Et gens illa quidem sumptis non tarda pharetris. Media fert tristis sucos tardumque saporem felicis mali, quo non praesentius ullum, pocula si quando saevae infecere novercae, miscueruntque herbas et non innoxia verba, auxilium venit ac membris agit atra venena. Ipsa ingens arbos faciemque simillima lauro; et, si non alium late iactaret odorem,
laurus erat; folia haud ullis labentia ventis; flos ad prima tenax; animas et olentia Medi ora fovent illo et senibus medicantur anhelis. sed neque Medorum, silvae ditissima, terra, nec pulcher Ganges atque auro turbidus Hermus laudibus Italiae certent, non Bactra neque Indi totaque turiferis Panchaia pinguis harenis. Haec loca non tauri spirantes naribus ignem invertere satis inmanis dentibus hydri nec galeis densisque virum seges horruit hastis; sed gravidae fruges et Bacchi Massicus humor inplevere; tenent oleae armentaque laeta.
Hinc bellator equus campo sese arduus infert; hinc albi, Clitumne, greges et maxima taurus victima, saepe tuo perfusi flumine sacro, Romanos ad templa deum duxere triumphos. Hic ver adsiduum atque alienis mensibus aestas bis gravidae pecudes, bis pomis utilis arbos. At rabidae tigres absunt et saeva leonum semina nec miseros fallunt aconita legentis nec rapit inmensos orbis per humum neque tanto squameus in spiram tractu se colligit anguis. Adde tot egregias urbes operumque laborem, tot congesta manu praeruptis oppida saxis
fluminaque antiquos subter labentia muros. An mare, quod supra, memorem, quodque adluit infra anne lacus tantos? Te, Lari maxume, teque, fluctibus et fremitu adsurgens Benace marino an memorem portus Lucrinoque addita claustra atque indignatum magnis stridoribus aequor Iulia qua ponto longe sonat unda refuso Tyrrhenusque fretis inmittitur aestus Avernis? Haec eadem argenti rivos aerisque metalla ostendit venis atque auro plurima fluxit. Haec genus acre virum, Marsos pubemque Sabellam adsuetumque malo Ligurem Volscosque verutos
extulit, haec Decios, Marios, magnosque Camillos, Scipiadas duros bello et te, maxume Caesar, qui nunc extremis Asiae iam victor in oris inbellem avertis Romanis arcibus Indum. Salve, magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus, magna virum; tibi res antiquae laudis et artem ingredior, sanctos ausus recludere fontis, Ascraeumque cano Romana per oppida carmen. Nunc locus arvorum ingeniis: quae robora cuique, quis color et quae sit rebus natura ferendis. Difficiles primum terrae collesque maligni, tenuis ubi argilla et dumosis calculus arvis,
Palladia gaudent silva vivacis olivae. Indicio est tractu surgens oleaster eodem plurimus et strati bacis silvestribus agri. At quae pinguis humus dulcique uligine laeta, quique frequens herbis et fertilis ubere campus— qualem saepe cava montis convalle solemus despicere; huc summis liquuntur rupibus amnes felicemque trahunt limum—quique editus austro et filicem curvis invisam pascit aratris: hic tibi praevalidas olim multoque fluentis sufficiet Baccho vitis, hic fertilis uvae, hic laticis, qualem pateris libamus et auro,
inflavit cum pinguis ebur Tyrrhenus ad aras, lancibus et pandis fumantia reddimus exta. Sin armenta magis studium vitulosque tueri aut ovium fetum aut urentis culta capellas, saltus et saturi petito longinqua Tarenti et qualem infelix amisit Mantua campum, pascentem niveos herboso flumine cycnos; non liquidi gregibus fontes, non gramina deerunt; et, quantum longis carpent armenta diebus, exigua tantum gelidus ros nocte reponet. Nigra fere et presso pinguis sub vomere terra et cui putre solum,—namque hoc imitamur arando—
optima frumentis; non ullo ex aequore cernes plura domum tardis decedere plaustra iuvencis; aut unde iratus silvam devexit arator et nemora evertit multos ignava per annos antiquasque domos avium cum stirpibus imis eruit; illae altum nidis petiere relictis, at rudis enituit inpulso vomere campus. Nam ieiuna quidem clivosi glarea ruris vix humilis apibus casias roremque ministrat; et tophus scaber et nigris exesa chelydris creta negant alios aeque serpentibus agros dulcem ferre cibum et curvas praebere latebras.
Quae tenuem exhalat nebulam fumosque volucris et bibit humorem et, cum volt, ex se ipsa remittit quaeque suo semper viridi se gramine vestit nec scabie et salsa laedit robigine ferrum: illa tibi laetis intexet vitibus ulmos, illa ferax oleo est, illam experiere colendo et facilem pecori et patientem vomeris unci. Talem dives arat Capua et vicina Vesevo ora iugo et vacuis Clanius non aequus Acerris. Nunc, quo quamque modo possis cognoscere, dicam. Rara sit an supra morem si densa requires— altera frumentis quoniam favet, altera Baccho,
densa magis Cereri, rarissima quaeque Lyaeo— ante locum capies oculis alteque iubebis in solido puteum demitti omnemque repones rursus humum et pedibus summas aequabis harenas. Si deerunt, rarum pecorique et vitibus almis aptius uber erit; sin in sua posse negabunt ire loca et scrobibus superabit terra repletis, spissus ager; glaebas cunctantis crassaque terga exspecta et validis terram proscinde iuvencis. Salsa autem tellus et quae perhibetur amara, frugibus infelix—ea nec mansuescit arando nec Baccho genus aut pomis sua nomina servat—
tale dabit specimen: tu spisso vimine qualos colaque prelorum fumosis deripe tectis; huc ager ille malus dulcesque a fontibus undae ad plenum calcentur; aqua eluctabitur omnis scilicet, et grandes ibunt per vimina guttae; at sapor indicium faciet manifestus et ora tristia temptantum sensu torquebit amaro. Pinguis item quae sit tellus, hoc denique pacto discimus: haud umquam manibus iactata fatiscit, sed picis in morem ad digitos lentescit habendo. Humida maiores herbas alit, ipsaque iusto laetior. Ah nimium ne sit mihi fertilis illa
nec se praevalidam primis ostendat aristis! Quae gravis est, ipso tacitam se pondere prodit, quaeque levis. Promptum est oculis praediscere nigram, et quis cui color. At sceleratum exquirere frigus difficile est: piceae tantum taxique nocentes interdum aut hederae pandunt vestigia nigrae. his animadversis terram multo ante memento excoquere et magnos scrobibus concidere montis, ante supinatas aquiloni ostendere glaebas, quam laetum infodias vitis genus. Optima putri arva solo: id venti curant gelidaeque pruinae et labefacta movens robustus iugera fossor.
Ac si quos haud ulla viros vigilantia fugit, ante locum similem exquirunt, ubi prima paretur arboribus seges et quo mox digesta feratur, mutatam ignorent subito ne semina matrem. Quin etiam caeli regionem in cortice signant, ut, quo quaeque modo steterit, qua parte calores Austrinos tulerit, quae terga obverterit axi, restituant: adeo in teneris consuescere multum est. Collibus an plano melius sit ponere vitem, quaere prius. Si pinguis agros metabere campi, densa sere; in denso non segnior ubere Bacchus; sin tumulis adclive solum collisque supinos,
indulge ordinibus, nec setius omnis in unguem arboribus positis secto via limite quadret. Ut saepe ingenti bello cum longa cohortis explicuit legio et campo stetit agmen aperto, directaeque acies, ac late fluctuat omnis aere renidenti tellus, necdum horrida miscent proelia, sed dubius mediis Mars errat in armis: omnia sint paribus numeris dimensa viarum; non animum modo uti pascat prospectus inanem, sed quia non aliter viris dabit omnibus aequas terra neque in vacuum poterunt se extendere rami. Forsitan et scrobibus quae sint fastigia quaeras.
ausim vel tenui vitem committere sulco. Altior ac penitus terrae defigitur arbos, aesculus in primis, quae quantum vertice ad auras aetherias, tantum radice in Tartara tendit. Ergo non hiemes illam, non flabra neque imbres convellunt; inmota manet, multosque nepotes, multa virum volvens durando saecula vincit. Tum fortis late ramos et bracchia pandens huc illuc, media ipsa ingentem sustinet umbram. Neve tibi ad solem vergant vineta cadentem, Neve inter vitis corylum sere, neve flagella summa pete aut summa defringe ex arbore plantas
tantus amor terrae—neu ferro laede retunso semina, neve oleae silvestris insere truncos: nam saepe incautis pastoribus excidit ignis, qui furtim pingui primum sub cortice tectus robora conprendit frondesque elapsus in altas ingentem caelo sonitum dedit; inde secutus per ramos victor perque alta cacumina regnat et totum involvit flammis nemus et ruit atram ad caelum picea crassus caligine nubem, praesertim si tempestas a vertice silvis incubuit glomeratque ferens incendia ventus. Hoc ubi, non a stirpe valent caesaeque reverti
possunt atque ima similes revirescere terra; infelix superat foliis oleaster amaris. Nec tibi tam prudens quisquam persuadeat auctor tellurem Borea rigidam spirante movere. Rura gelu tum claudit hiems nec semine iacto concretam patitur radicem adfigere terrae. Optima vinetis satio, cum vere rubenti candida venit avis longis invisa colubris, prima vel autumni sub frigora, cum rapidus Sol nondum hiemem contingit equis, iam praeterit aestas. Ver adeo frondi nemorum, ver utile silvis; vere tument terrae et genitalia semina poscunt.
Tum pater omnipotens fecundis imbribus Aether coniugis in gremium laetae descendit et omnis magnus alit magno commixtus corpore fetus. Avia tum resonant avibus virgulta canoris et Venerem certis repetunt armenta diebus; parturit almus ager Zephyrique tepentibus auris laxant arva sinus; superat tener omnibus humor; inque novos soles audent se germina tuto credere, nec metuit surgentis pampinus austros aut actum caelo magnis aquilonibus imbrem, sed trudit gemmas et frondes explicat omnis. Non alios prima crescentis origine mundi
inluxisse dies aliumve habuisse tenorem crediderim: ver illud erat, ver magnus agebat orbis et hibernis parcebant flatibus Euri, cum primae lucem pecudes hausere virumque terrea progenies duris caput extulit arvis, inmissaeque ferae silvis et sidera caelo. Nec res hunc tenerae possent perferre laborem, si non tanta quies iret frigusque caloremque inter, et exciperet caeli indulgentia terras. Quod superest, quaecumque premes virgulta per agros, sparge fimo pingui et multa memor occule terra, aut lapidem bibulum aut squalentis infode conchas;
inter enim labentur aquae tenuisque subibit halitus atque animos tollent sata; iamque reperti, qui saxo super atque ingentis pondere testae urgerent; hoc effusos munimen ad imbris, hoc, ubi hiulca siti findit canis aestifer arva. Seminibus positis superest diducere terram saepius ad capita et duros iactare bidentis, aut presso exercere solum sub vomere et ipsa flectere luctantis inter vineta iuvencos; tum levis calamos et rasae hastilia virgae fraxineasque aptare sudes furcasque valentis, viribus eniti quarum et contemnere ventos
adsuescant summasque sequi tabulata per ulmos. Ac dum prima novis adolescit frondibus aetas, parcendum teneris, et dum se laetus ad auras palmes agit laxis per purum inmissus habenis, ipsa acie nondum falcis temptanda, sed uncis carpendae manibus frondes interque legendae. Inde ubi iam validis amplexae stirpibus ulmos exierint, tum stringe comas, tum bracchia tonde— ante reformidant ferrum—tum denique dura exerce imperia et ramos conpesce fluentis. Texendae saepes etiam et pecus omne tenendum, praecipue dum frons tenera inprudensque laborum;
cui super indignas hiemes solemque potentem silvestres uri adsidue capreaeque sequaces inludunt, pascuntur oves avidaeque iuvencae. Frigora nec tantum cana concreta pruina aut gravis incumbens scopulis arentibus aestas, quantum illi nocuere greges durique venenum dentis et admorso signata in stirpe cicatrix. Non aliam ob culpam Baccho caper omnibus aris caeditur et veteres ineunt proscaenia ludi praemiaque ingeniis pagos et compita circum thesidae posuere atque inter pocula laeti mollibus in pratis unctos saluere per utres.
Nec non Ausonii, Troia gens missa, coloni versibus incomptis ludunt risuque soluto oraque corticibus sumunt horrenda cavatis et te, Bacche, vocant per carmina laeta tibique oscilla ex alta suspendunt mollia pinu. Hinc omnis largo pubescit vinea fetu, conplentur vallesque cavae saltusque profundi, et quocumque deus circum caput egit honestum. Ergo rite suum Baccho dicemus honorem carminibus patriis lancesque et liba feremus et ductus cornu stabit sacer hircus ad aram pinguiaque in veribus torrebimus exta colurnis.
Est etiam ille labor curandis vitibus alter, cui numquam exhausti satis est: namque omne quot annis terque quaterque solum scindendum glebaque versis aeternum frangenda bidentibus, omne levandum fronde nemus. Redit agricolis labor actus in orbem atque in se sua per vestigia volvitur annus. Ac iam olim, seras posuit cum vinea frondes, frigidus et silvis aquilo decussit honorem, iam tum acer curas venientem extendit in annum rusticus et curvo Saturni dente relictam persequitur vitem attondens fingitque putando. Primus humum fodito, primus devecta cremato
sarmenta et vallos primus sub tecta referto; postremus metito. Bis vitibus ingruit umbra, bis segetem densis obducunt sentibus herbae; durus uterque labor: laudato ingentia rura, exiguum colito. Nec non etiam aspera rusci vimina per silvam et ripis fluvialis arundo caeditur, incultique exercet cura salicti. Iam vinctae vites, iam falcem arbusta reponunt, iam canit effectos extremus vinitor antes: sollicitanda tamen tellus pulvisque movendus et iam maturis metuendus Iuppiter uvis. Contra non ulla est oleis cultura; neque illae
procurvam exspectant falcem rastrosque tenacis, cum semel haeserunt arvis aurasque tulerunt; ipsa satis tellus, cum dente recluditur unco, sufficit humorem et gravidas, cum vomere, fruges. Hoc pinguem et placitam Paci nutritor olivam. Poma quoque, ut primum truncos sensere valentis et viris habuere suas, ad sidera raptim vi propria nituntur opisque haud indiga nostrae. Nec minus interea fetu nemus omne gravescit sanguineisque inculta rubent aviaria bacis. Tondentur cytisi, taedas silva alta ministrat, pascunturque ignes nocturni et lumina fundunt.
Et dubitant homines serere atque inpendere curam quid maiora sequar?—salices humilesque genestae aut illae pecori frondem aut pastoribus umbram Sufficiunt saepemque satis et pabula melli— et iuvat undantem buxo spectare Cytorum naryciaeque picis lucos, iuvat arva videre non rastris, hominum non ulli obnoxia curae. Ipsae Caucasio steriles in vertice silvae, quas animosi Euri adsidue franguntque feruntque, dant alios aliae fetus, dant utile lignum navigiis pinus, domibus cedrumque cupressosque. Hinc radios trivere rotis, hinc tympana plaustris
agricolae et pandas ratibus posuere carinas, viminibus salices fecundae, frondibus ulmi, at myrtus validis hastilibus et bona bello cornus, Ituraeos taxi torquentur in arcus. Nec tiliae leves aut torno rasile buxum non formam accipiunt ferroque cavantur acuto. Nec non et torrentem undam levis innatat alnus, missa Pado; nec non et apes examina condunt corticibusque cavis vitiosaeque ilicis alvo. Quid memorandum aeque Baccheia dona tulerunt Bacchus et ad culpam causas dedit; ille furentis centauros leto domuit, Rhoetumque Pholumque
et magno Hylaeum Lapithis cratere minantem. O fortunatos nimium, sua si bona norint, agricolas! quibus ipsa procul discordibus armis fundit humo facilem victum iustissima tellus. Si non ingentem foribus domus alta superbis mane salutantum totis vomit aedibus undam, nec varios inhiant pulchra testudine postis inlusasque auro vestes Ephyreiaque aera, alba neque Assyrio fucatur lana veneno nec casia liquidi corrumpitur usus olivi: at secura quies et nescia fallere vita, dives opum variarum, at latis otia fundis—
speluncae vivique lacus et frigida Tempe mugitusque boum mollesque sub arbore somni— non absunt; illic saltus ac lustra ferarum et patiens operum exiguoque adsueta iuventus, sacra deum sanctique patres; extrema per illos iustitia excedens terris vestigia fecit. Me vero primum dulces ante omnia Musae, quarum sacra fero ingenti percussus amore, accipiant caelique vias et sidera monstrent, defectus solis varios lunaeque labores; unde tremor terris, qua vi maria alta tumescant obicibus ruptis rursusque in se ipsa residant,
quid tantum Oceano properent se tinguere soles hiberni, vel quae tardis mora noctibus obstet. Sin, has ne possim naturae accedere partis, frigidus obstiterit circum praecordia sanguis: rura mihi et rigui placeant in vallibus amnes, flumina amem silvasque inglorius. O ubi campi Spercheosque et virginibus bacchata Lacaenis Taygeta! O, qui me gelidis convallibus Haemi sistat et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra! Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas, atque metus omnis et inexorabile fatum subiecit pedibus strepitumque Acherontis avari.
Fortunatus et ille, deos qui novit agrestis, panaque Silvanumque senem Nymphasque sorores: illum non populi fasces, non purpura regum flexit et infidos agitans discordia fratres aut coniurato descendens Dacus ab Histro, non res Romanae perituraque regna; neque ille aut doluit miserans inopem aut invidit habenti quos rami fructus, quos ipsa volentia rura sponte tulere sua, carpsit; nec ferrea iura insanumque forum aut populi tabularia vidit. sollicitant alii remis freta caeca ruuntque in ferrum, penetrant aulas et limina regum;
hic petit excidiis urbem miserosque Penatis, ut gemma bibat et Sarrano dormiat ostro; condit opes alius defossoque incubat auro; hic stupet attonitus rostris; hunc plausus hiantem per cuneos—geminatus enim plebisque patrumque— corripuit; gaudent perfusi sanguine fratrum, exsilioque domos et dulcia limina mutant atque alio patriam quaerunt sub sole iacentem. Agricola incurvo terram dimovit aratro: hinc anni labor, hinc patriam parvosque nepotes sustinet, hinc armenta boum meritosque iuvencos. Nec requies, quin aut pomis exuberet annus
aut fetu pecorum aut cerealis mergite culmi, proventuque oneret sulcos atque horrea vincat. Venit hiems: teritur Sicyonia baca trapetis, glande sues laeti redeunt, dant arbuta silvae; et varios ponit fetus autumnus et alte mitis in apricis coquitur vindemia saxis. Interea dulces pendent circum oscula nati, casta pudicitiam servat domus, ubera vaccae lactea demittunt pinguesque in gramine laeto inter se adversis luctantur cornibus haedi. Ipse dies agitat festos fususque per herbam, ignis ubi in medio et socii cratera coronant,
te libans, Lenaee, vocat pecorisque magistris velocis iaculi certamina ponit in ulmo, corporaque agresti nudant praedura palaestrae. Hanc olim veteres vitam coluere Sabini, hanc Remus et frater, sic fortis Etruria crevit scilicet et rerum facta est pulcherrima Roma, septemque una sibi muro circumdedit arces. Ante etiam sceptrum Dictaei regis et ante inpia quam caesis gens est epulata iuvencis, aureus hanc vitam in terris Saturnus agebat; necdum etiam audierant inflari classica, necdum inpositos duris crepitare incudibus enses.
Sed nos inmensum spatiis confecimus aequor, et iam tempus equum fumantia solvere colla.
Book 3
Te quoque, magna Pales, et te memorande canemus pastor ab Amphryso, vos, silvae amnesque Lycaei. Cetera, quae vacuas tenuissent carmine mentes, omnia iam volgata: quis aut Eurysthea durum aut inlaudati nescit Busiridis aras? Cui non dictus Hylas puer et Latonia Delos Hippodameque umeroque Pelops insignis eburno, acer equis? Temptanda via est, qua me quoque possim tollere humo victorque virum volitare per ora. Primus ego in patriam mecum, modo vita supersit, Aonio rediens deducam vertice Musas; primus Idumaeas referam tibi, Mantua, palmas,
et viridi in campo templum de marmore ponam propter aquam. Tardis ingens ubi flexibus errat Mincius et tenera praetexit arundine ripas. In medio mihi Caesar erit templumque tenebit: illi victor ego et Tyrio conspectus in ostro centum quadriiugos agitabo ad flumina currus. Cuncta mihi Alpheum linquens lucosque Molorchi cursibus et crudo decernet Graecia caestu. Ipse caput tonsae foliis ornatus olivae dona feram. Iam nunc sollemnis ducere pompas ad delubra iuvat caesosque videre iuvencos, vel scaena ut versis discedat frontibus utque
purpurea intexti tollant aulaea Britanni. In foribus pugnam ex auro solidoque elephanto Gangaridum faciam victorisque arma Quirini, atque hic undantem bello magnumque fluentem Nilum ac navali surgentis aere columnas. Addam urbes Asiae domitas pulsumque Niphaten fidentemque fuga Parthum versisque sagittis, et duo rapta manu diverso ex hoste tropaea bisque triumphatas utroque ab litore gentes. Stabunt et Parii lapides, spirantia signa, Assaraci proles demissaeque ab Iove gentis nomina, Trosque parens et Troiae Cynthius auctor.
Invidia infelix Furias amnemque severum Cocyti metuet tortosque Ixionis anguis immanemque rotam et non exsuperabile saxum. Interea Dryadum silvas saltusque sequamur intactos, tua, Maecenas, haud mollia iussa. Te sine nil altum mens incohat; en age segnis rumpe moras; vocat ingenti clamore Cithaeron Taygetique canes domitrixque Epidaurus equorum et vox adsensu nemorum ingeminata remugit. Mox tamen ardentis accingar dicere pugnas Caesaris et nomen fama tot ferre per annos, Tithoni prima quot abest ab origine Caesar.
Seu quis Olympiacae miratus praemia palmae pascit equos seu quis fortis ad aratra iuvencos, corpora praecipue matrum legat. Optuma torvae forma bovis, cui turpe caput, cui plurima cervix, et crurum tenus a mento palearia pendent; tum longo nullus lateri modus; omnia magna, pes etiam; et camuris hirtae sub cornibus aures. Nec mihi displiceat maculis insignis et albo, aut iuga detractans interdumque aspera cornu et faciem tauro propior, quaeque ardua tota, et gradiens ima verrit vestigia cauda, Aetas Lucinam iustosque pati hymenaeos
desinit ante decem, post quattuor incipit annos; cetera nec feturae habilis nec fortis aratris. Interea, superat gregibus dum laeta iuventas, solve mares; mitte in Venerem pecuaria primus, atque aliam ex alia generando suffice prolem. Optuma quaeque dies miseris mortalibus aevi prima fugit; subeunt morbi tristisque senectus et labor, et durae rapit inclementia mortis. Semper erunt, quarum mutari corpora malis: semper enim refice ac, ne post amissa requiras, ante veni et subolem armento sortire quotannis. Nec non et pecori est idem dilectus equino.
Tu modo, quos in spem statues submittere gentis, praecipuum iam inde a teneris impende laborem. Continuo pecoris generosi pullus in arvis altius ingreditur et mollia crura reponit; primus et ire viam et fluvios temptare minaces audet et ignoto sese committere ponti nec vanos horret strepitus. Illi ardua cervix argutumque caput, brevis alvus obesaque terga, luxuriatque toris animosum pectus. Honesti spadices glaucique, color deterrimus albis et gilvo. Tum, si qua sonum procul arma dedere stare loco nescit, micat auribus et tremit artus
collectumque premens volvit sub naribus ignem. Densa iuba, et dextro iactata recumbit in armo; at duplex agitur per lumbos spina, cavatque tellurem et solido graviter sonat ungula cornu. Talis Amyclaei domitus Pollucis habenis Cyllarus et, quorum Grai meminere poetae, Martis equi biiuges et magni currus Achilli. Talis et ipse iubam cervice effundit equina coniugis adventu pernix Saturnus et altum Pelion hinnitu fugiens implevit acuto. Hunc quoque, ubi aut morbo gravis aut iam segnior annis deficit, abde domo nec turpi ignosce senectae.
frigidus in Venerem senior, frustraque laborem ingratum trahit, et, si quando ad proelia ventum est, ut quondam in stipulis magnus sine viribus ignis, incassum furit. Ergo animos aevumque notabis praecipue; hinc alias artis prolemque parentum et quis cuique dolor victo, quae gloria palmae. Nonne vides, cum praecipiti certamine campum corripuere ruuntque effusi carcere currus, cum spes arrectae iuvenum, exsultantiaque haurit corda pavor pulsans? Illi instant verbere torto et proni dant lora, volat vi fervidus axis; iamque humiles, iamque elati sublime videntur
aera per vacuum ferri atque adsurgere in auras; nec mora nec requies; at fulvae nimbus harenae tollitur, umescunt spumis flatuque sequentum: tantus amor laudum, tantae est victoria curae. Primus Erichthonius currus et quattuor ausus iungere equos rapidusque rotis insistere victor Frena Pelethronii Lapithae gyrosque dedere impositi dorso atque equitem docuere sub armis insultare solo et gressus glomerare superbos. Aequus uterque labor, aeque iuvenemque magistri exquirunt calidumque animis et cursibus acrem, quamvis saepe fuga versos ille egerit hostis
et patriam Epirum referat fortisque Mycenas Neptunique ipsa deducat origine gentem. His animadversis instant sub tempus et omnis impendunt curas denso distendere pingui, quem legere ducem et pecori dixere maritum; florentisque secant herbas fluviosque ministrant farraque, ne blando nequeat superesse labori invalidique patrum referant ieiunia nati. Ipsa autem macie tenuant armenta volentes, atque, ubi concubitus primos iam nota voluptas sollicitat, frondesque negant et fontibus arcent. Saepe etiam cursu quatiunt et sole fatigant,
cum graviter tunsis gemit area frugibus et cum surgentem ad Zephyrum paleae iactantur inanes. Hoc faciunt, nimio ne luxu obtunsior usus sit genitali arvo et sulcos oblimet inertis, sed rapiat sitiens Venerem interiusque recondat. Rursus cura patrum cadere et succedere matrum incipit. Exactis gravidae cum mensibus errant, non illas gravibus quisquam iuga ducere plaustris, non saltu superare viam sit passus et acri carpere prata fuga fluviosque innare rapacis. Saltibus in vacuis pascunt et plena secundum flumina, muscus ubi et viridissima gramine ripa,
speluncaeque tegant et saxea procubet umbra. Est lucos Silari circa ilicibusque; virentem plurimus Alburnum volitans, cui nomen asilo Romanum est, oestrum Grai vertere vocantes, asper, acerba sonans, quo tota exterrita silvis diffugiunt armenta; furit mugitibus aether concussus silvaeque et sicci ripa Tanagri. Hoc quondam monstro horribilis exercuit iras Inachiae Iuno pestem meditata iuvencae. Hunc quoque, nam mediis fervoribus acrior instat, arcebis gravido pecori, armentaque pasces sole recens orto aut noctem ducentibus astris.
Post partum cura in vitulos traducitur omnis, continuoque notas et nomina gentis inurunt et quos aut pecori malint submittere habendo aut aris servare sacros aut scindere terram et campum horrentem fractis invertere glaebis. Cetera pascuntur viridis armenta per herbas: Tu quos ad studium atque usum formabis agrestem, iam vitulos hortare viamque insiste domandi, dum faciles animi iuvenum, dum mobilis aetas. Ac primum laxos tenui de vimine circlos cervici subnecte; dehinc, ubi libera colla servitio adsuerint, ipsis e torquibus aptos
iunge pares et coge gradum conferre iuvencos; atque illis iam saepe rotae ducantur inanes per terram et summo vestigia pulvere signent; post valido nitens sub pondere faginus axis instrepat et iunctos temo trahat aereus orbes. Interea pubi indomitae non gramina tantum nec vescas salicum frondes ulvamque palustrem, sed frumenta manu carpes sata; nec tibi fetae more patrum nivea implebunt mulctraria vaccae, sed tota in dulcis consument ubera natos. Sin ad bella magis studium turmasque ferocis, aut Alphea rotis praelabi flumina Pisae
et Iovis in luco currus agitare volantis: primus equi labor est, animos atque arma videre bellantum lituosque pati tractuque gementem ferre rotam et stabulo frenos audire sonantis; tum magis atque magis blandis gaudere magistri laudibus et plausae sonitum cervicis amare. Atque haec iam primo depulsus ab ubere matris audeat, inque vicem det mollibus ora capistris invalidus etiamque tremens, etiam inscius aevi. At tribus exactis ubi quarta accesserit aestas, carpere mox gyrum incipiat gradibusque sonare compositis sinuetque alterna volumina crurum
sitque laboranti similis; tum cursibus auras, tum vocet, ac per aperta volans ceu liber habenis aequora vix summa vestigia ponat harena; qualis Hyperboreis Aquilo cum densus ab oris incubuit, Scythiaeque hiemes atque arida differt nubila: tum segetes altae campique natantes lenibus horrescunt flabris summaeque sonorem dant silvae longique urgent ad litora fluctus; ille volat simul arva fuga, simul aequora verrens Hinc vel ad Elei metas et maxuma campi sudabit spatia et spumas aget ore cruentas, Belgica vel molli melius feret esseda collo.
Tum demum crassa magnum farragine corpus crescere iam domitis sinito: namque ante domandum ingentis tollent animos prensique negabunt verbera lenta pati et duris parere lupatis. Sed non ulla magis viris industria firmat, quam Venerem et caeci stimulos avertere amoris, sive boum sive est cui gratior usus equorum. Atque ideo tauros procul atque in sola relegant pascua post montem oppositum et trans flumina lata, aut intus clausos satura ad praesepia servant. Carpit enim viris paulatim uritque videndo femina nec nemorum patitur meminisse nec herbae
dulcibus illa quidem inlecebris, et saepe superbos cornibus inter se subigit decernere amantis. Pascitur in magna Sila formosa iuvenca: illi alternantes multa vi proelia miscent volneribus crebris, lavit ater corpora sanguis, versaque in obnixos urguentur cornua vasto cum gemitu, reboant silvaeque et longus Olympus Nec mos bellantis una stabulare, sed alter victus abit longeque ignotis exulat oris, multa gemens ignominiam plagasque superbi victoris, tum, quos amisit inultus, amores; et stabula aspectans regnis excessit avitis.
Ergo omni cura viris exercet et inter dura iacet pernix instrato saxa cubili frondibus hirsutis et carice pastus acuta, et temptat sese atque irasci in cornua discit arboris obnixus trunco ventosque lacessit ictibus et sparsa ad pugnam proludit harena. Post ubi collectum robur viresque refectae signa movet praecepsque oblitum fertur in hostem: fluctus uti medio coepit cum albescere ponto longius ex altoque sinum trahit, utque volutus ad terras immane sonat per saxa neque ipso monte minor procumbit, at ima exaestuat unda
verticibus nigramque alte subiectat harenam. Omne adeo genus in terris hominumque ferarumque, et genus aequoreum, pecudes pictaeque volucres, in furias. ignemque ruunt. Amor omnibus idem. Tempore non alio catulorum oblita leaena saevior erravit campis, nec funera volgo tam multa informes ursi stragemque dedere per silvas; tum saevus aper, tum pessima tigris; heu male tum Libyae solis erratur in agris. Nonne vides, ut tota tremor pertemptet equorum corpora, si tantum notas odor attulit auras? Ac neque eos iam frena virum neque verbera saeva
non scopuli rupesque cavae atque obiecta retardant flumina correptosque unda torquentia montis. Ipse ruit dentesque Sabellicus exacuit sus et pede prosubigit terram, fricat arbore costas atque hinc atque illinc umeros ad volnera durat. Quid iuvenis, magnum cui versat in ossibus ignem durus amor? Nempe abruptis turbata procellis nocte natat caeca serus freta; quem super ingens porta tonat caeli et scopulis inlisa reclamant aequora; nec miseri possunt revocare parentes nec moritura super crudeli funere virgo. Quid lynces Bacchi variae et genus acre luporum
atque canum? Quid, quae imbelles dant proelia cervi? Scilicet ante omnis furor est insignis equarum; et mentem Venus ipsa dedit, quo tempore Glauci Potniades malis membra absumpsere quadrigae. Illas ducit amor trans Gargara transque sonantem Ascanium; superant montis et flumina tranant. Continuoque avidis ubi subdita flamma medullis, vere magis, quia vere calor redit ossibus: illae ore omnes versae in Zephyrum stant rupibus altis, exceptantque levis auras et saepe sine ullis coniugiis vento gravidae, mirabile dictu, saxa per et scopulos et depressas convallis
diffugiunt, non, Eure, tuos, neque solis ad ortus, in Borean caurumque, aut unde nigerrimus auster nascitur et pluvio contristat frigore caelum. Hic demum, hippomanes vero quod nomine dicunt pastores, lentum destillat ab inguine virus, hippomanes, quod saepe malae legere novercae miscueruntque herbas et non innoxia verba. Sed fugit interea, fugit inreparabile tempus, singula dum capti circumvectamur amore. Hoc satis armentis: superat pars altera curae, lanigeros agitare greges hirtasque capellas. Hic labor, hinc laudem fortes sperate coloni.
Nec sum animi dubius, verbis ea vincere magnum quam sit, et angustis hunc addere rebus honorem; sed me Parnasi deserta per ardua dulcis raptat amor; iuvat ire iugis, qua nulla priorum Castaliam molli devertitur orbita clivo. Nunc, veneranda Pales, magno nunc ore sonandum Incipiens stabulis edico in mollibus herbam carpere ovis, dum mox frondosa reducitur aestas, et multa duram stipula filicumque maniplis sternere subter humum, glacies ne frigida laedat molle pecus scabiemque ferat turpisque podagras. Post hinc digressus iubeo frondentia capris
arbuta sufficere et fluvios praebere recentis et stabula a ventis hiberno opponere soli ad medium conversa diem, cum frigidus olim iam cadit extremoque inrorat Aquarius anno. Haec quoque non cura nobis leviore tuendae, nec minor usus erit, quamvis Milesia magno vellera mutentur Tyrios incocta rubores: densior hinc suboles, hinc largi copia lactis; quam magis exhausto spumaverit ubere mulctra, laeta magis pressis manabunt flumina mammis. Nec minus interea barbas incanaque menta Cinyphii tondent hirci saetasque comantis
usum in castrorum et miseris velamina nautis. Pascuntur vero silvas et summa Lycaei horrentisque rubos et amantis ardua dumos: atque ipsae memores redeunt in tecta suosque ducunt et gravido superant vix ubere limen. Ergo omni studio glaciem ventosque nivalis quo minor est illis curae mortalis egestas, avertes victumque feres et virgea laetus pabula, nec tota claudes faenilia bruma. At vero Zephyris cum laeta vocantibus aestas in saltus utrumque gregem atque in pascua mittet, Luciferi primo cum sidere frigida rura
carpamus, dum mane novum, dum gramina canent, et ros in tenera pecori gratissimus herba. Inde ubi quarta sitim caeli collegerit hora et cantu querulae rumpent arbusta cicadae, ad puteos aut alta greges ad stagna iubebo currentem ilignis potare canalibus undam; aestibus at mediis umbrosam exquirere vallem, sicubi magna Iovis antiquo robore quercus ingentis tendat ramos, aut sicubi nigrum ilicibus crebris sacra nemus accubet umbra; tum tenuis dare rursus aquas et pascere rursus solis ad occasum, cum frigidus aera vesper
temperat et saltus reficit iam roscida luna litoraque alcyonem resonant, acalanthida dumi. Quid tibi pastores Libyae, quid pascua versu prosequar et raris habitata mapalia tectis? Saepe diem noctemque et totum ex ordine mensem pascitur itque pecus longa in deserta sine ullis hospitiis: tantum campi iacet. Omnia secum armentarius Afer agit, tectumque laremque armaque Amyclaeumque canem Cressamque pharetram; non secus ac patriis acer Romanus in armis iniusto sub fasce viam cum carpit et hosti ante expectatum positis stat in agmine castris.
At non, qua Scythiae gentes Maeotiaque unda, turbidus et torquens flaventis Hister harenas, quaque redit medium Rhodope porrecta sub axem. Illic clausa tenent stabulis armenta, neque ullae aut herbae campo apparent aut arbore frondes; sed iacet aggeribus niveis informis et alto terra gelu late septemque adsurgit in ulnas. Semper hiemps, semper spirantes frigora cauri. Tum Sol pallentis haud umquam discutit umbras, nec cum invectus equis altum petit aethera, nec cum praecipitem Oceani rubro lavit aequore currum. Concrescunt subitae currenti in flumine crustae
undaque iam tergo ferratos sustinet orbis, puppibus illa prius, patulis nunc hospita plaustris; aeraque dissiliunt vulgo vestesque rigescunt indutae caeduntque securibus umida vina et totae solidam in glaciem vertere lacunae stiriaque impexis induruit horrida barbis. Interea toto non setius aere ninguit: intereunt pecudes, stant circumfusa pruinis corpora magna boum, confertoque agmine cervi torpent mole nova et summis vix cornibus extant. Hos non immissis canibus, non cassibus ullis puniceaeve agitant pavidos formidine pennae,
sed frustra oppositum trudentis pectore montem comminus obtruncant ferro graviterque rudentis caedunt et magno laeti clamore reportant. Ipsi in defossis specubus secura sub alta otia agunt terra congestaque robora totasque advolvere focis ulmos ignique dedere. Hic noctem ludo ducunt et pocula laeti fermento atque acidis imitantur vitea sorbis. Talis Hyperboreo septem subiecta trioni gens effrena virum Rhiphaeo tunditur euro et pecudum fulvis velatur corpora saetis. Si tibi lanitium curae, primum aspera silva,
lappaeque tribolique, absint; fuge pabula laeta; Continuoque greges villis lege mollibus albos. Illum autem, quamvis aries sit candidus ipse, nigra subest udo tantum cui lingua palato, reice, ne maculis infuscet vellera pullis nascentum, plenoque alium circumspice campo. Munere sic niveo lanae, si credere dignum est, Pan deus Arcadiae captam te, Luna, fefellit in nemora alta vocans; nec tu aspernata vocantem. At cui lactis amor, cytisum lotosque frequentis ipse manu salsasque ferat praesepibus herbas. Hinc et amant fluvios magis et magis ubera tendunt
et salis occultum referunt in lacte saporem. Multi iam excretos prohibent a matribus haedos primaque ferratis praefigunt ora capistris. Quod surgente die mulsere horisque diurnis, nocte premunt; quod iam tenebris et sole cadente, sub lucem exportant calathis adit oppida pastor; aut parco sale contingunt hiemique reponunt. Nec tibi cura canum fuerit postrema, sed una velocis Spartae catulos acremque Molossum pasce sero pingui. Numquam custodibus illis nocturnum stabulis furem incursusque luporum aut impacatos a tergo horrebis Hiberos.
Saepe etiam cursu timidos agitabis onagros et canibus leporem, canibus venabere dammas, saepe volutabris pulsos silvestribus apros latratu turbabis agens montisque per altos ingentem clamore premes ad retia cervum. Disce et odoratam stabulis accendere cedrum galbaneoque agitare gravis nidore chelydros. saepe sub immotis praesepibus aut mala tactu vipera delituit caelumque exterrita fugit, aut tecto adsuetus coluber succedere et umbrae, pestis acerba boum, pecorique aspergere virus, fovit humum. Cape saxa manu, cape robora, pastor,
tollentemque minas et sibila colla tumentem deice. Iamque fuga timidum caput abdidit alte, cum medii nexus extremaeque agmina caudae solvuntur, tardosque trahit sinus ultimus orbis. Est etiam ille malus Calabris in saltibus anguis, squamea convolvens sublato pectore terga atque notis longam maculosus grandibus alvum qui, dum amnes ulli rumpuntur fontibus et dum vere madent udo terrae ac pluvialibus austris stagna colit, ripisque habitans hic piscibus atram improbus ingluviem ranisque loquacibus explet; postquam exusta palus, terraeque ardore dehiscunt,
exsilit in siccum et flammantia lumina torquens saevit agris asperque siti atque exterritus aestu. Ne mihi tum mollis sub divo carpere somnos neu dorso nemoris libeat iacuisse per herbas, cum positis novus exuviis nitidusque iuventa volvitur, aut catulos tectis aut ova relinquens arduus ad solem et linguis micat ore trisulcis. Morborum quoque te causas et signa docebo. Turpis ovis temptat scabies, ubi frigidus imber altius ad vivum persedit et horrida cano bruma gelu, vel cum tonsis inlotus adhaesit sudor et hirsuti secuerunt corpora vepres.
Dulcibus idcirco fluviis pecus omne magistri perfundunt, udisque aries in gurgite villis mersatur missusque secundo defluit amni; aut tonsum tristi contingunt corpus amurca et spumas miscent argenti et sulfura viva Idaeasque pices et pinguis unguine ceras scillamque elleborosque gravis nigrumque bitumen. Non tamen ulla magis praesens fortuna laborum est, quam si quis ferro potuit rescindere summum ulceris os: alitur vitium vivitque tegendo, dum medicas adhibere manus ad volnera pastor abnegat et meliora deos sedet omnia poscens.
Quin etiam, ima dolor balantum lapsus ad ossa cum furit atque artus depascitur arida febris, profuit incensos aestus avertere et inter ima ferire pedis salientem sanguine venam, Bisaltae quo more solent acerque Gelonus; cum fugit in Rhodopen atque in deserta Getarum et lac concretum cum sanguine potat equino. Quam procul aut molli succedere saepius umbrae videris aut summas carpentem ignavius herbas extremamque sequi aut medio procumbere campo pascentem et serae solam decedere nocti: continuo culpam ferro compesce, prius quam
dira per incautum serpant contagia volgus. Non tam creber agens hiemem ruit aequore turbo, quam multae pecudum pestes. Nec singula morbi corpora corripiunt, sed tota aestiva repente, spemque gregemque simul cunctamque ab origine gentem. Tum sciat, aerias Alpis et Norica si quis castella in tumulis et Iapydis arva Timavi nunc quoque post tanto videat desertaque regna pastorum et longe saltus lateque vacantis. Hic quondam morbo caeli miseranda coorta est tempestas totoque autumni incanduit aestu et genus omne neci pecudum dedit, omne ferarum,
corrupitque lacus, infecit pabula tabo. Nec via mortis erat simplex, sed ubi ignea venis omnibus acta sitis miseros adduxerat artus, rursus abundabat fluidus liquor omniaque in se ossa minutatim morbo collapsa trahebat. Saepe in honore deum medio stans hostia ad aram lanea dum nivea circumdatur infula vitta, inter cunctantis cecidit moribunda ministros. Aut si quam ferro mactaverat ante sacerdos inde neque impositis ardent altaria fibris nec responsa potest consultus reddere vates, ac vix suppositi tinguntur sanguine cultri
summaque ieiuna sanie infuscatur harena. Hinc laetis vituli volgo moriuntur in herbis et dulcis animas plena ad praesepia reddunt; hinc canibus blandis rabies venit et quatit aegros tussis anhela sues ac faucibus angit obesis. Labitur infelix studiorum atque immemor herbae victor equus fontisque avertitur et pede terram crebra ferit; demissae aures, incertus ibidem sudor et ille quidem morituris frigidus, aret pellis et ad tactum tractanti dura resistit. Haec ante exitium primis dant signa diebus; sin in processu coepit crudescere morbus,
tum vero ardentes oculi atque attractus ab alto spiritus, interdum gemitu gravis, imaque longo ilia singultu tendunt, it naribus ater sanguis et obsessas fauces premit aspera lingua. Profuit inserto latices infundere cornu Lenaeos; ea visa salus morientibus una; mox erat hoc ipsum exitio, furiisque refecti ardebant ipsique suos iam morte sub aegra, di meliora piis erroremque hostibus illum, discissos nudis laniabant dentibus artus. Ecce autem duro fumans sub vomere taurus concidit et mixtum spumis vomit ore cruorem
extremosque ciet gemitus. It tristis arator maerentem abiungens fraterna morte iuvencum, atque opere in medio defixa relinquit aratra. Non umbrae altorum nemorum, non mollia possunt prata movere animum, non qui per saxa volutus purior electro campum petit amnis; at ima solvuntur latera atque oculos stupor urguet inertis ad terramque fluit devexo pondere cervix. Quid labor aut benefacta iuvant? Quid vomere terras invertisse gravis? Atqui non Massica Bacchi munera, non illis epulae nocuere repostae: frondibus et victu pascuntur simplicis herbae,
pocula sunt fontes liquidi atque exercita cursu flumina, nec somnos abrumpit cura salubris. Tempore non alio dicunt regionibus illis quaesitas ad sacra boves Iunonis et uris imparibus ductos alta ad donaria currus. Ergo aegre rastris terram rimantur et ipsis unguibus infodiunt fruges montisque per altos contenta cervice trahunt stridentia plaustra. Non lupus insidias explorat ovilia circum nec gregibus nocturnus obambulat; acrior illum cura domat; timidi dammae cervique fugaces nunc interque canes et circum tecta vagantur.
Iam maris immensi prolem et genus omne natantum litore in extremo, ceu naufraga corpora, fluctus proluit; insolitae fugiunt in flumina phocae. Interit et curvis frustra defensa latebris vipera et attoniti squamis adstantibus hydri. Ipsis est aer avibus non aequus et illae praecipites alta vitam sub nube relinquunt. Praeterea iam nec mutari pabula refert artes nocent quaesitaeque; cessere magistri Phillyrides Chiron Amythaoniusque Melampus. Saevit et in lucem Stygiis emissa tenebris pallida Tisiphone Morbos agit ante Metumque,
inque dies avidum surgens caput altius effert: Balatu pecorum et crebris mugitibus amnes arentesque sonant ripae collesque supini: Iamque catervatim dat stragem atque aggerat ipsis in stabulis turpi dilapsa cadavera tabo donec humo tegere ac foveis abscondere discunt. Nam neque erat coriis usus nec viscera quisquam aut undis abolere potest aut vincere flamma; ne tondere quidem morbo inluvieque peresa vellera nec telas possunt attingere putris; verum etiam invisos si quis temptarat amictus, ardentes papulae atque immundus olentia sudor
membra sequebatur nec longo deinde moranti tempore contactos artus sacer ignis edebat.
Book 4
Protinus aerii mellis caelestia dona exsequar: hanc etiam, Maecenas, adspice partem. Admiranda tibi levium spectacula rerum magnanimosque duces totiusque ordine gentis mores et studia et populos et proelia dicam. In tenui labor; at tenuis non gloria, si quem numina laeva sinunt auditque vocatus Apollo. Principio sedes apibus statioque petenda, quo neque sit ventis aditus—nam pabula venti ferre domum prohibent—neque oves haedique petulci floribus insultent aut errans bucula campo decutiat rorem et surgentes atterat herbas.
Absint et picti squalentia terga lacerti pinguibus a stabulis meropesque aliaeque volucres et manibus Procne pectus signata cruentis; omnia nam late vastant ipsasque volantes ore ferunt dulcem nidis immitibus escam. At liquidi fontes et stagna virentia musco adsint et tenuis fugiens per gramina rivus, palmaque vestibulum aut ingens oleaster inumbret, ut, cum prima novi ducent examina reges vere suo ludetque favis emissa iuventus, vicina invitet decedere ripa calori, obviaque hospitiis teneat frondentibus arbos.
In medium, seu stabit iners seu profluet umor, transversas salices et grandia conice saxa, pontibus ut crebris possint consistere et alas pandere ad aestivum solem, si forte morantes sparserit aut praeceps Neptuno immerserit Eurus. Haec circum casiae virides et olentia late serpylla et graviter spirantis copia thymbrae floreat inriguumque bibant violaria fontem. Ipsa autem, seu corticibus tibi suta cavatis, seu lento fuerint alvaria vimine texta, angustos habeant aditus: nam frigore mella cogit hiems, eademque calor liquefacta remittit.
Utraque vis apibus pariter metuenda; neque illae nequiquam in tectis certatim tenuia cera spiramenta linunt fucoque et floribus oras explent collectumque haec ipsa ad munera gluten et visco et Phrygiae servant pice lentius Idae. Saepe etiam effossis, si vera est fama, latebris sub terra fovere larem, penitusque repertae pumicibusque cavis exesaeque arboris antro. Tu tamen et levi rimosa cubilia limo ungue fovens circum et raras superinice frondes. Neu propius tectis taxum sine, neve rubentes ure foco cancros, altae neu crede paludi,
aut ubi odor caeni gravis aut ubi concava pulsu saxa sonant vocisque offensa resultat imago. Quod superest, ubi pulsam hiemem sol aureus egit sub terras caelumque aestiva luce reclusit, illae continuo saltus silvasque peragrant purpureosque metunt flores et flumina libant summa leves. Hinc nescio qua dulcedine laetae progeniem nidosque fovent, hinc arte recentes excudunt ceras et mella tenacia fingunt. Hinc ubi iam emissum caveis ad sidera caeli nare per aestatem liquidam suspexeris agmen obscuramque trahi vento mirabere nubem,
contemplator: aquas dulces et frondea semper tecta petunt. Huc tu iussos adsperge sapores, trita melisphylla et cerinthae ignobile gramen, tinnitusque cie et Matris quate cymbala circum. ipsae consident medicatis sedibus, ipsae intima more suo sese in cunabula condent. Sin autem ad pugnam exierint, nam saepe duobus regibus incessit magno discordia motu, continuoque animos vulgi et trepidantia bello corda licet longe praesciscere; namque morantes Martius ille aeris rauci canor increpat et vox auditur fractos sonitus imitata tubarum;
tum trepidae inter se coeunt pennisque coruscant spiculaque exacuunt rostris aptantque lacertos et circa regem atque ipsa ad praetoria densae miscentur magnisque vocant clamoribus hostem. Ergo ubi ver nactae sudum camposque patentes, erumpunt portis; concurritur, aethere in alto fit sonitus, magnum mixtae glomerantur in orbem praecipitesque cadunt; non densior aere grando, nec de concussa tantum pluit ilice glandis. ipsi per medias acies insignibus alis ingentes animos angusto in pectore versant, usque adeo obnixi non cedere, dum gravis aut hos
aut hos versa fuga victor dare terga subegit. Hi motus animorum atque haec certamina tanta pulveris exigui iactu compressa quiescent. Verum ubi ductores acie revocaveris ambo, deterior qui visus, eum, ne prodigus obsit, dede neci; melior vacua sine regnet in aula. Alter erit maculis auro squalentibus ardens; nam duo sunt genera: hic melior, insignis et ore et rutilis clarus squamis, ille horridus alter desidia latamque trahens inglorius alvum. Ut binae regum facies, ita corpora plebis. Namque aliae turpes horrent, ceu pulvere ab alto
cum venit et sicco terram spuit ore viator aridus; elucent aliae et fulgore coruscant ardentes auro et paribus lita corpora guttis. Haec potior suboles, hinc caeli tempore certo dulcia mella premes, nec tantum dulcia, quantum et liquida et durum Bacchi domitura saporem. At cum incerta volant caeloque examina ludunt contemnuntque favos et frigida tecta relinquunt, instabiles animos ludo prohibebis inani. Nec magnus prohibere labor: tu regibus alas eripe; non illis quisquam cunctantibus altum ire iter aut castris audebit vellere signa.
Invitent croceis halantes floribus horti et custos furum atque avium cum falce saligna Hellespontiaci servet tutela Priapi. Ipse thymum pinosque ferens de montibus altis tecta serat late circum, cui talia curae; ipse labore manum duro terat, ipse feraces figat humo plantas et amicos inriget imbres. Atque equidem, extremo ni iam sub fine laborum vela traham et terris festinem advertere proram, forsitan et, pingues hortos quae cura colendi ornaret, canerem, biferique rosaria Paesti, quoque modo potis gauderent intiba rivis
et virides apio ripae, tortusque per herbam cresceret in ventrem cucumis; nec sera comantem narcissum aut flexi tacuissem vimen acanthi pallentesque hederas et amantes litora myrtos. Namque sub Oebaliae memini me turribus arcis, qua niger umectat flaventia culta Galaesus, Corycium vidisse senem, cui pauca relicti iugera ruris erant, nec fertilis illa iuvencis nec pecori opportuna seges nec commoda Baccho. Hic rarum tamen in dumis olus albaque circum lilia verbenasque premens vescumque papaver regum aequabat opes animis seraque revertens
nocte domum dapibus mensas onerabat inemptis. Primus vere rosam atque autumno carpere poma, et cum tristis hiems etiamnum frigore saxa rumperet et glacie cursus frenaret aquarum, ille comam mollis iam tondebat hyacinthi aestatem increpitans seram Zephyrosque morantes. Ergo apibus fetis idem atque examine multo primus abundare et spumantia cogere pressis mella favis; illi tiliae atque uberrima pinus, quotque in flore novo pomis se fertilis arbos induerat, totidem autumno matura tenebat. Ille etiam seras in versum distulit ulmos
eduramque pirum et spinos iam pruna ferentes iamque ministrantem platanum potantibus umbras. Verum haec ipse equidem spatiis exclusus iniquis praetereo atque aliis post me memoranda relinquo. Nunc age, naturas apibus quas Iuppiter ipse addidit, expediam, pro qua mercede canoros Curetum sonitus crepitantiaque aera secutae Dictaeo caeli regem pavere sub antro. Solae communes natos, consortia tecta urbis habent magnisque agitant sub legibus aevum, et patriam solae et certos novere penates, venturaeque hiemis memores aestate laborem
experiuntur et in medium quaesita reponunt. Namque aliae victu invigilant et foedere pacto exercentur agris; pars intra saepta domorum Narcissi lacrimam et lentum de cortice gluten prima favis ponunt fundamina, deinde tenaces suspendunt ceras: aliae spem gentis adultos educunt fetus, aliae purissima mella stipant et liquido distendunt nectare cellas. Sunt quibus ad portas cecidit custodia sorti, inque vicem speculantur aquas et nubila caeli aut onera accipiunt venientum aut agmine facto ignavum fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent.
Fervet opus, redolentque thymo fragrantia mella. ac veluti lentis Cyclopes fulmina massis cum properant, alii taurinis follibus auras accipiunt redduntque, alii stridentia tingunt aera lacu; gemit impositis incudibus Aetna; illi inter sese magna vi bracchia tollunt in numerum versantque tenaci forcipe ferrum: non aliter, si parva licet componere magnis, Cecropias innatus apes amor urget habendi, munere quamque suo. Grandaevis oppida curae et munire favos et daedala fingere tecta. At fessae multa referunt se nocte minores,
crura thymo plenae; pascuntur et arbuta passim et glaucas salices casiamque crocumque rubentem et pinguem tiliam et ferrugineos hyacinthos. Omnibus una quies operum, labor omnibus unus: mane ruunt portis; nusquam mora; rursus easdem vesper ubi e pastu tandem decedere campis admonuit, tum tecta petunt, tum corpora curant; fit sonitus, mussantque oras et limina circum. Post, ubi iam thalamis se composuere, siletur in noctem fessosque sopor suus occupat artus. Nec vero a stabulis pluvia impendente recedunt longius aut credunt caelo adventantibus Euris,
sed circum tutae sub moenibus urbis aquantur, excursusque breves temptant et saepe lapillos, ut cumbae instabiles fluctu iactante saburram, tollunt, his sese per inania nubila librant. Illum adeo placuisse apibus mirabere morem, quod neque concubitu indulgent nec corpora segnes in Venerem solvunt aut fetus nixibus edunt: verum ipsae e foliis natos, e suavibus herbis ore legunt, ipsae regem parvosque Quirites sufficiunt aulasque et cerea regna refigunt. saepe etiam duris errando in cotibus alas attrivere ultroque animam sub fasce dedere:
tantus amor florum et generandi gloria mellis. Ergo ipsas quamvis angusti terminus aevi excipiat, neque enim plus septima ducitur aestas, at genus immortale manet multosque per annos stat fortuna domus et avi numerantur avorum. Praeterea regem non sic Aegyptus et ingens Lydia nec populi Parthorum aut Medus Hydaspes observant. Rege incolumi mens omnibus una est; amisso rupere fidem constructaque mella diripuere ipsae et crates solvere favorum. Ille operum custos, illum admiruntur et omnes circumstant fremitu denso stipantque frequentes
et saepe attollunt umeris et corpora bello obiectant pulchramque petunt per vulnera mortem. His quidam signis atque haec exempla secuti esse apibus partem divinae mentis et haustus aetherios dixere; deum namque ire per omnes terrasque tractusque maris caelumque profundum. Hinc pecudes, armenta, viros, genus omne ferarum, quemque sibi tenues nascentem arcessere vitas; scilicet huc reddi deinde ac resoluta referri omnia nec morti esse locum, sed viva volare sideris in numerum atque alto succedere caelo. Si quando sedem angustam servataque mella
thesauris relines, prius haustu sparsus aquarum ora fove fumosque manu praetende sequaces. Bis gravidos cogunt fetus, duo tempora messis, Taygete simul os terris ostendit honestum Pleas et Oceani spretos pede reppulit amnes, aut eadem sidus fugiens ubi Piscis aquosi tristior hibernas caelo descendit in undas. Illis ira modum supra est, laesaeque venenum morsibus inspirant et spicula caeca relinquunt adfixae venis animasque in vulnere ponunt. Sin duram metues hiemem parcesque futuro contunsosque animos et res miserabere fractas,
at suffire thymo cerasque recidere inanes quis dubitet? nam saepe favos ignotus adedit stellio et lucifugis congesta cubilia blattis immunisque sedens aliena ad pabula fucus aut asper crabro imparibus se immiscuit armis, aut dirum tiniae genus, aut invisa Minervae laxos in foribus suspendit aranea casses. Quo magis exhaustae fuerint, hoc acrius omnes incumbent generis lapsi sarcire ruinas complebuntque foros et floribus horrea texent. Si vero, quoniam casus apibus quoque nostros vita tulit, tristi languebunt corpora morbo—
quod iam non dubiis poteris cognoscere signis: continuo est aegris alius color, horrida vultum deformat macies, tum corpora luce carentum exportant tectis et tristia funera ducunt; aut illae pedibus conexae ad limina pendent, aut intus clausis cunctantur in aedibus, omnes ignavaeque fame et contracto frigore pigrae. Tum sonus auditur gravior, tractimque susurrant, frigidus ut quondam silvis immurmurat Auster, ut mare sollicitum stridit refluentibus undis, aestuat ut clausis rapidus fornacibus ignis: hic iam galbaneos suadebo incendere odores
mellaque harundineis inferre canalibus, ultro hortantem et fessas ad pabula nota vocantem. Proderit et tunsum gallae admiscere saporem Arentesque rosas aut igni pinguia multo defruta vel psithia passos de vite racemos Cecropiumque thymum et grave olentia centaurea. Est etiam flos in pratis, cui nomen amello fecere agricolae, facilis quaerentibus herba; namque uno ingentem tollit de caespite silvam, aureus ipse, sed in foliis, quae plurima circum funduntur, violae sublucet purpura nigrae; asper in ore sapor; tonsis in vallibus illum
pastores et curva legunt prope flumina Mellae. Huius odorato radices incoque Baccho pabulaque in foribus plenis adpone canistris. Sed siquem proles subito defecerit omnis, nec genus unde novae stirpis revocetur habebit, tempus et Arcadii memoranda inventa magistri pandere, quoque modo caesis iam saepe iuvencis insincerus apes tulerit cruor. Altius omnem expediam prima repetens ab origine famam. Nam qua Pellaei gens fortunata Canopi accolit effuso stagnantem flumine Nilum et circum pictis vehitur sua rura phaselis,
quaque pharetratae vicinia Persidis urget, omnis in hac certam regio iacit arte salutem. Exiguus primum atque ipsos contractus in usus eligitur locus; hunc angustique imbrice tecti parietibusque premunt artis et quattuor addunt, quattuor a ventis obliqua luce fenestras. Tum vitulus bima curvans iam cornua fronte quaeritur; huic geminae nares et spiritus oris multa reluctanti obstruitur, plagisque perempto tunsa per integram solvuntur viscera pellem. Sic positum in clauso linquunt et ramea costis subiciunt fragmenta, thymum casiasque recentes.
Hoc geritur Zephyris primum impellentibus undas, ante novis rubeant quam prata coloribus, ante garrula quam tignis nidum suspendat hirundo. Interea teneris tepefactus in ossibus umor aestuat et visenda modis animalia miris, trunca pedum primo, mox et stridentia pennis, miscentur tenuemque magis magis aera carpunt, donec, ut aestivis effusus nubibus imber, erupere aut ut nervo pulsante sagittae, prima leves ineunt si quando proelia Parthi. Quis deus hanc, Musae, quis nobis extudit artem? Unde nova ingressus hominum experientia cepit?
Pastor Aristaeus fugiens Peneia Tempe, amissis, ut fama, apibus morboque fameque, tristis ad extremi sacrum caput adstitit amnis multa querens atque hac adfatus voce parentem: “Mater, Cyrene mater, quae gurgitis huius ima tenes, quid me praeclara stirpe deorum, si modo, quem perhibes, pater est Thymbraeus Apollo, invisum fatis genuisti? aut quo tibi nostri pulsus amor? quid me caelum sperare iubebas? En etiam hunc ipsum vitae mortalis honorem, quem mihi vix frugum et pecudum custodia sollers omnia temptanti extuderat, te matre relinquo.
Quin age et ipsa manu felices erue silvas, fer stabulis inimicum ignem atque interfice messes, ure sata et validam in vites molire bipennem, tanta meae si te ceperunt taedia laudis.” At mater sonitum thalamo sub fluminis alti sensit. Eam circum Milesia vellera Nymphae carpebant hyali saturo fucata colore, drymoque Xanthoque Ligeaque Phyllodoceque, caesariem effusae nitidam per candida colla, Nesaee Spioque Thaliaque Cymodoceque, Cydippeque et flava Lycorias, altera virgo, altera tum primos Lucinae experta labores,
Clioque et Beroe soror, Oceanitides ambae, ambae auro, pictis incinctae pellibus ambae, atque Ephyre atque Opis et Asia Deiopea et tandem positis velox Arethusa sagittis. Inter quas curam Clymene narrabat inanem Vulcani Martisque dolos et dulcia furta, aque Chao densos divum numerabat amores carmine quo captae dum fusis mollia pensa devolvunt, iterum maternas impulit aures luctus Aristaei, vitreisque sedilibus omnes obstipuere; sed ante alias Arethusa sorores prospiciens summa flavum caput extulit unda
et procul: “O gemitu non frustra exterrita tanto, Cyrene soror, ipse tibi, tua maxima cura, tristis Aristaeus Penei genitoris ad undam stat lacrimans et te crudelem nomine dicit.” Huic percussa nova mentem formidine mater, “duc, age, duc ad nos; fas illi limina divum tangere,” ait. Simul alta iubet discedere late flumina, qua iuvenis gressus inferret. At illum curvata in montis faciem circumstetit unda accepitque sinu vasto misitque sub amnem. Iamque domum mirans genetricis et umida regna speluncisque lacus clausos lucosque sonantes
ibat et ingenti motu stupefactus aquarum omnia sub magna labentia flumina terra spectabat diversa locis, Phasimque Lycumque et caput, unde altus primum se erumpit Enipeus unde pater Tiberinus et unde Aniena fluenta saxosusque sonans Hypanis Mysusque Caicus, et gemina auratus taurino cornua vultu Eridanus, quo non alius per pinguia culta in mare purpureum violentior effluit amnis. Postquam est in thalami pendentia pumice tecta perventum et nati fletus cognovit inanes Cyrene, manibus liquidos dant ordine fontes
germanae tonsisque ferunt mantelia villis; pars epulis onerant mensas et plena reponunt pocula, Panchaeis adolescunt ignibus arae; et mater, “Cape Maeonii carchesia Bacchi: Oceano libemus,” ait. Simul ipsa precatur Oceanumque patrem rerum Nymphasque sorores centum quae silvas, centum quae flumina servant. Ter liquido ardentem perfundit nectare Vestam, ter flamma ad summum tecti subiecta reluxit. Omine quo firmans animum sic incipit ipsa: “Est in Carphatio Neptuni gurgite vates caeruleus Proteus, magnum qui piscibus aequor
et iuncto bipedum curru metitur equorum. Hic nunc Emathiae portus patriamque revisit Pallenen, hunc et Nymphae veneramur et ipse grandaevus Nereus; novit namque omnia vates, quae sint, quae fuerint, quae mox ventura trahantur; quippe ita Neptuno visum est, immania cuius armenta et turpes pascit sub gurgite phocas. Hic tibi, nate, prius vinclis capiendus, ut omnem expediat morbi causam eventusque secundet. Nam sine vi non ulla dabit praecepta, neque illum orando flectes; vim duram et vincula capto tende; doli circum haec demum frangentur inanes.
Ipsa ego, te, medios cum sol accenderit aestus, cum sitiunt herbae et pecori iam gratior umbra est, in secreta senis ducam, quo fessus ab undis se recipit, facile ut somno adgrediare iacentem. Verum ubi correptum manibus vinclisque tenebis, tum variae eludent species atque ora ferarum Fiet enim subito sus horridus atraque tigris squamosusque draco et fulva cervice leaena, aut acrem flammae sonitum dabit atque ita vinclis excidet, aut in aquas tenues dilapsus abibit. Sed quanto ille magis formas se vertet in omnes, tanto, nate, magis contende tenacia vincla,
donec talis erit mutato corpore, qualem videris, incepto tegeret cum lumina somno.” Haec ait et liquidum ambrosiae defundit odorem, quo totum nati corpus perduxit; at illi dulcis compositis spiravit crinibus aura atque habilis membris venit vigor. Est specus ingens exesi latere in montis, quo plurima vento cogitur inque sinus scindit sese unda reductos, deprensis olim statio tutissima nautis; intus se vasti Proteus tegit obice saxi. Hic iuvenem in latebris aversum a lumine Nympha collocat; ipsa procul nebulis obscura resistit.
Iam rapidus torrens sitientes Sirius Indos ardebat, caelo et medium sol igneus orbem hauserat; arebant herbae et cava flumina siccis faucibus ad limum radii tepefacta coquebant: cum Proteus consueta petens e fluctibus antra ibat; eum vasti circum gens umida ponti exsultans rorem late dispergit amarum. Sternunt se somno diversae in litore phocae. Ipse, velut stabuli custos in montibus olim, vesper ubi e pastu vitulos ad tecta reducit, auditisque lupos acuunt balatibus agni, considit scopulo medius numerumque recenset.
Cuius Aristaeo quoniam est oblata facultas, vix defessa senem passus componere membra cum clamore ruit magno manicisque iacentem occupat. Ille suae contra non immemor artis omnia transformat sese in miracula rerum, ignemque horribilemque feram fluviumque liquentem. Verum ubi nulla fugam reperit fallacia, victus in sese redit atque hominis tandem ore locutus: “Nam quis te, iuvenum confidentissime, nostras iussit adire domos? Quidve hinc petis?” inquit. At ille: “Scis, Proteu, scis ipse; neque est te fallere quicquam sed tu desine velle. Deum praecepta secuti
venimus hinc lapsis quaesitum oracula rebus.” Tantum effatus. Ad haec vates vi denique multa ardentes oculos intorsit lumine glauco et graviter frendens sic fatis ora resolvit. “Non te nullius exercent numinis irae; magna luis commissa: tibi has miserabilis Orpheus haudquaquam ob meritum poenas, ni fata resistant, suscitat et rapta graviter pro coniuge saevit. Illa quidem, dum te fugeret per flumina praeceps, immanem ante pedes hydrum moritura puella servantem ripas alta non vidit in herba. At chorus aequalis Dryadum clamore supremos
implerunt montes; flerunt Rhodopeiae arces altaque Pangaea et Rhesi mavortia tellus atque Getae atque Hebrus et Actias Orithyia. Ipse cava solans aegrum testudine amorem te, dulcis coniunx, te solo in litore secum, te veniente die, te decedente canebat. Taenarias etiam fauces, alta ostia Ditis, et caligantem nigra formidine lucum ingressus manesque adiit regemque tremendum nesciaque humanis precibus mansuescere corda. At cantu commotae Erebi de sedibus imis umbrae ibant tenues simulacraque luce carentum,
quam multa in foliis avium se milia condunt vesper ubi aut hibernus agit de montibus imber, matres atque viri defunctaque corpora vita magnanimum heroum, pueri innuptaeque puellae, impositique rogis iuvenes ante ora parentum, quos circum limus niger et deformis harundo Cocyti tardaque palus inamabilis unda alligat et noviens Styx interfusa coercet. Quin ipsae stupuere domus atque intima Leti tartara caeruleosque implexae crinibus angues Eumenides, tenuitque inhians tria Cerberus ora atque Ixionii vento rota constitit orbis.
Iamque pedem referens casus evaserat omnes; redditaque Eurydice superas veniebat ad auras, pone sequens, namque hanc dederat Proserpina legem, cum subita incautum dementia cepit amantem, ignoscenda quidem, scirent si ignoscere manes. Restitit Eurydicenque suam iam luce sub ipsa immemor heu! victusque animi respexit. Ibi omnis effusus labor atque immitis rupta tyranni foedera, terque fragor stagnis auditus Avernis. Illa, “Quis et me,” inquit, “miseram et te perdidit, Orpheu, quis tantus furor? En iterum crudelia retro Fata vocant, conditque natantia lumina somnus.
Iamque vale: feror ingenti circumdata nocte invalidasque tibi tendens, heu non tua, palmas!” dixit et ex oculis subito, ceu fumus in auras commixtus tenues, fugit diversa, neque illum, prensantem nequiquam umbras et multa volentem dicere, praeterea vidit, nec portitor Orci amplius obiectam passus transire paludem. Quid faceret? Quo se rapta bis coniuge ferret? Quo fletu Manis, quae numina voce moveret? Illa quidem Stygia nabat iam frigida cumba. Septem illum totos perhibent ex ordine menses rupe sub aeria deserti ad Strymonis undam
flesse sibi et gelidis haec evolvisse sub antris mulcentem tigres et agentem carmine quercus; qualis populea maerens philomela sub umbra amissos queritur fetus, quos durus arator observans nido implumes detraxit; at illa flet noctem ramoque sedens miserabile carmen integrat et maestis late loca questibus implet. Nulla Venus, non ulli animum flexere hymenaei. Solus Hyperboreas glacies Tanaimque nivalem arvaque Rhipaeis numquam viduata pruinis lustrabat raptam Eurydicen atque inrita Ditis dona querens; spretae Ciconum quo munere matres
inter sacra deum nocturnique orgia Bacchi discerptum latos iuvenem sparsere per agros. Tum quoque marmorea caput a cervice revulsum gurgite cum medio portans Oeagrius Hebrus volveret, Eurydicen vox ipsa et frigida lingua “ah miseram Eurydicen!” anima fugiente vocabat: “Eurydicen” toto referebant flumine ripae.” Haec Proteus, et se iactu dedit aequor in altum, quaque dedit, spumantem undam sub vertice torsit. At non Cyrene; namque ultro adfata timentem: “Nate, licet tristes animo deponere curas. Haec omnis morbi causa; hinc miserabile Nymphae,
cum quibus illa choros lucis agitabat in altis, exitium misere apibus. Tu munera supplex tende petens pacem et faciles venerare Napaeas; namque dabunt veniam votis irasque remittent. Sed modus orandi qui sit, prius ordine dicam. Quattuor eximios praestanti corpore tauros, qui tibi nunc viridis depascunt summa Lycaei, delige et intacta totidem cervice iuvencas. Quattuor his aras alta ad delubra dearum constitue et sacrum iugulis demitte cruorem, corporaque ipsa boum frondoso desere luco. Post, ubi nona suos Aurora ostenderit ortus,
inferias Orphei Lethaea papavera mittes et nigram mactabis ovem lucumque revises: placatam Eurydicen vitula venerabere caesa.” Haud mora; continuo matris praecepta facessit; ad delubra venit, monstratas excitat aras, quattuor eximios praestanti corpore tauros ducit et intacta totidem cervice iuvencas. Post, ubi nona suos Aurora induxerat ortus, inferias Orphei mittit lucumque revisit. Hic vero subitum ac dictu mirabile monstrum adspiciunt, liquefacta boum per viscera toto stridere apes utero et ruptis effervere costis,
immensasque trahi nubes, iamque arbore summa confluere et lentis uvam demittere ramis. Haec super arvorum cultu pecorumque canebam et super arboribus, Caesar dum magnus ad altum fulminat Euphraten bello victorque volentes per populos dat iura viamque adfectat Olympo. Illo Vergilium me tempore dulcis alebat Parthenope studiis florentem ignobilis oti, carmina qui lusi pastorum audaxque iuventa, Tityre, te patulae cecini sub tegmine fagi.
Eclogues
Contents — 10 sections
Section 1
You, Tityrus, 'neath a broad beech-canopy reclining, on the slender oat rehearse your silvan ditties: I from my sweet fields, and home's familiar bounds, even now depart. Exiled from home am I; while, Tityrus, you sit careless in the shade, and, at your call, “Fair Amaryllis” bid the woods resound. O Meliboeus, 'twas a god vouchsafed this ease to us, for him a god will I deem ever, and from my folds a tender lamb oft with its life-blood shall his altar stain. His gift it is that, as your eyes may see,
my kine may roam at large, and I myself play on my shepherd's pipe what songs I will. I grudge you not the boon, but marvel more, such wide confusion fills the country-side. See, sick at heart I drive my she-goats on, and this one, O my Tityrus, scarce can lead: for 'mid the hazel-thicket here but now she dropped her new-yeaned twins on the bare flint, hope of the flock—an ill, I mind me well, which many a time, but for my blinded sense, the thunder-stricken oak foretold, oft too from hollow trunk the raven's ominous cry.
But who this god of yours? Come, Tityrus, tell. The city, Meliboeus, they call Rome, I, simpleton, deemed like this town of ours, whereto we shepherds oft are wont to drive the younglings of the flock: so too I knew whelps to resemble dogs, and kids their dams, comparing small with great; but this as far above all other cities rears her head as cypress above pliant osier towers. And what so potent cause took you to Rome? Freedom, which, though belated, cast at length her eyes upon the sluggard, when my beard
'gan whiter fall beneath the barber's blade— cast eyes, I say, and, though long tarrying, came, now when, from Galatea's yoke released, I serve but Amaryllis: for I will own, while Galatea reigned over me, I had no hope of freedom, and no thought to save. Though many a victim from my folds went forth, or rich cheese pressed for the unthankful town, never with laden hands returned I home. I used to wonder, Amaryllis, why you cried to heaven so sadly, and for whom you left the apples hanging on the trees;
'twas Tityrus was away. Why, Tityrus, the very pines, the very water-springs, the very vineyards, cried aloud for you. What could I do? how else from bonds be freed, or otherwhere find gods so nigh to aid? There, Meliboeus, I saw that youth to whom yearly for twice six days my altars smoke. There instant answer gave he to my suit, “Feed, as before, your kine, boys, rear your bulls.” So in old age, you happy man, your fields will still be yours, and ample for your need! Though, with bare stones o'erspread, the pastures all
be choked with rushy mire, your ewes with young by no strange fodder will be tried, nor hurt through taint contagious of a neighbouring flock. Happy old man, who 'mid familiar streams and hallowed springs, will court the cooling shade! Here, as of old, your neighbour's bordering hedge, that feasts with willow-flower the Hybla bees, shall oft with gentle murmur lull to sleep, while the leaf-dresser beneath some tall rock uplifts his song, nor cease their cooings hoarse the wood-pigeons that are your heart's delight, nor doves their moaning in the elm-tree top.
Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air, the seas their fish leave naked on the strand, germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds, and these the Arar, those the Tigris drink, than from my heart his face and memory fade. But we far hence, to burning Libya some, some to the Scythian steppes, or thy swift flood, cretan Oaxes, now must wend our way, or Britain, from the whole world sundered far. Ah! shall I ever in aftertime behold my native bounds—see many a harvest hence with ravished eyes the lowly turf-roofed cot
where I was king? These fallows, trimmed so fair, some brutal soldier will possess these fields an alien master. Ah! to what a pass has civil discord brought our hapless folk! For such as these, then, were our furrows sown! Now, Meliboeus, graft your pears, now set your vines in order! Go, once happy flock, my she-goats, go. Never again shall I, stretched in green cave, behold you from afar hang from the bushy rock; my songs are sung; never again will you, with me to tend, on clover-flower, or bitter willows, browse.
Yet here, this night, you might repose with me, on green leaves pillowed: apples ripe have I, soft chestnuts, and of curdled milk enow. And, see, the farm-roof chimneys smoke afar, and from the hills the shadows lengthening fall!
Section 2
the shepherd Corydon with love was fired for fair Alexis, his own master's joy: no room for hope had he, yet, none the less, the thick-leaved shadowy-soaring beech-tree grove still would he haunt, and there alone, as thus, to woods and hills pour forth his artless strains. “Cruel Alexis, heed you naught my songs? Have you no pity? you'll drive me to my death. Now even the cattle court the cooling shade and the green lizard hides him in the thorn: now for tired mowers, with the fierce heat spent, pounds Thestilis her mess of savoury herbs,
wild thyme and garlic. I, with none beside, save hoarse cicalas shrilling through the brake, still track your footprints 'neath the broiling sun. Better have borne the petulant proud disdain of Amaryllis, or Menalcas wooed, albeit he was so dark, and you so fair! Trust not too much to colour, beauteous boy; white privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled. You scorn me, Alexis, who or what I am care not to ask—how rich in flocks, or how in snow-white milk abounding: yet for me roam on Sicilian hills a thousand lambs;
summer or winter, still my milk-pails brim. I sing as erst Amphion of Circe sang, what time he went to call his cattle home on Attic Aracynthus. Nor am I so ill to look on: lately on the beach I saw myself, when winds had stilled the sea, and, if that mirror lie not, would not fear daphnis to challenge, though yourself were judge. Ah! were you but content with me to dwell. Some lowly cot in the rough fields our home, shoot down the stags, or with green osier-wand round up the straggling flock! There you with me
in silvan strains will learn to rival Pan. Pan first with wax taught reed with reed to join; for sheep alike and shepherd Pan hath care. Nor with the reed's edge fear you to make rough your dainty lip; such arts as these to learn what did Amyntas do?—what did he not? A pipe have I, of hemlock-stalks compact in lessening lengths, Damoetas' dying-gift: ‘Mine once,’ quoth he, ‘now yours, as heir to own.’ Foolish Amyntas heard and envied me. Ay, and two fawns, I risked my neck to find in a steep glen, with coats white-dappled still,
from a sheep's udders suckled twice a day— these still I keep for you; which Thestilis implores me oft to let her lead away; and she shall have them, since my gifts you spurn. Come hither, beauteous boy; for you the Nymphs bring baskets, see, with lilies brimmed; for you, plucking pale violets and poppy-heads, now the fair Naiad, of narcissus flower and fragrant fennel, doth one posy twine— with cassia then, and other scented herbs, blends them, and sets the tender hyacinth off with yellow marigold. I too will pick
quinces all silvered-o'er with hoary down, chestnuts, which Amaryllis wont to love, and waxen plums withal: this fruit no less shall have its meed of honour; and I will pluck you too, ye laurels, and you, ye myrtles, near, for so your sweets ye mingle. Corydon, you are a boor, nor heeds a whit your gifts alexis; no, nor would Iollas yield, should gifts decide the day. Alack! alack! What misery have I brought upon my head!— loosed on the flowers Siroces to my bane, and the wild boar upon my crystal springs!
Whom do you fly, infatuate? gods ere now, and Dardan Paris, have made the woods their home. Let Pallas keep the towers her hand hath built, us before all things let the woods delight. The grim-eyed lioness pursues the wolf, the wolf the she-goat, the she-goat herself in wanton sport the flowering cytisus, and Corydon Alexis, each led on by their own longing. See, the ox comes home with plough up-tilted, and the shadows grow to twice their length with the departing sun, yet me love burns, for who can limit love?
Ah! Corydon, Corydon, what hath crazed your wit? Your vine half-pruned hangs on the leafy elm; why haste you not to weave what need requires of pliant rush or osier? Scorned by this, elsewhere some new Alexis you will find.”
Section 3
Who owns the flock, Damoetas? Meliboeus? Nay, they are Aegon's sheep, of late by him committed to my care. O every way unhappy sheep, unhappy flock! while he still courts Neaera, fearing lest her choice should fall on me, this hireling shepherd here wrings hourly twice their udders, from the flock filching the life-juice, from the lambs their milk. Hold! not so ready with your jeers at men! We know who once, and in what shrine with you— the he-goats looked aside—the light nymphs laughed—
Ay, then, I warrant, when they saw me slash micon's young vines and trees with spiteful hook. Or here by these old beeches, when you broke the bow and arrows of Damon; for you chafed when first you saw them given to the boy, cross-grained Menalcas, ay, and had you not done him some mischief, would have chafed to death. With thieves so daring, what can masters do? Did I not see you, rogue, in ambush lie for Damon's goat, while loud Lycisca barked? And when I cried, “Where is he off to now? Gather your flock together, Tityrus,”
you hid behind the sedges. Well, was he whom I had conquered still to keep the goat. Which in the piping-match my pipe had won! You may not know it, but the goat was mine. You out-pipe him? when had you ever pipe wax-welded? in the cross-ways used you not on grating straw some miserable tune to mangle? Well, then, shall we try our skill each against each in turn? Lest you be loth, I pledge this heifer; every day she comes
twice to the milking-pail, and feeds withal two young ones at her udder: say you now what you will stake upon the match with me. Naught from the flock I'll venture, for at home I have a father and a step-dame harsh, and twice a day both reckon up the flock, and one withal the kids. But I will stake, seeing you are so mad, what you yourself will own more priceless far—two beechen cups by the divine art of Alcimedon wrought and embossed, whereon a limber vine, wreathed round them by the graver's facile tool,
twines over clustering ivy-berries pale. Two figures, one Conon, in the midst he set, and one—how call you him, who with his wand marked out for all men the whole round of heaven, that they who reap, or stoop behind the plough, might know their several seasons? Nor as yet have I set lip to them, but lay them by. For me too wrought the same Alcimedon a pair of cups, and round the handles wreathed pliant acanthus, Orpheus in the midst, the forests following in his wake; nor yet have I set lip to them, but lay them by.
Matched with a heifer, who would prate of cups? You shall not balk me now; where'er you bid, I shall be with you; only let us have for auditor—or see, to serve our turn, yonder Palaemon comes! In singing-bouts i'll see you play the challenger no more. Out then with what you have; I shall not shrink, nor budge for any man: only do you, neighbour Palaemon, with your whole heart's skill— for it is no slight matter—play your part. Say on then, since on the greensward we sit, and now is burgeoning both field and tree;
now is the forest green, and now the year at fairest. Do you first, Damoetas, sing, then you, Menalcas, in alternate strain: alternate strains are to the Muses dear. “From Jove the Muse began; Jove filleth all, makes the earth fruitful, for my songs hath care.” “Me Phoebus loves; for Phoebus his own gifts, bays and sweet-blushing hyacinths, I keep.” “Gay Galatea throws an apple at me, then hies to the willows, hoping to be seen.” “My dear Amyntas comes unasked to me; not Delia to my dogs is better known.”
“Gifts for my love I've found; mine eyes have marked where the wood-pigeons build their airy nests.” “Ten golden apples have I sent my boy, all that I could, to-morrow as many more.” “What words to me, and uttered O how oft, hath Galatea spoke! waft some of them, ye winds, I pray you, for the gods to hear.” “It profiteth me naught, Amyntas mine, that in your very heart you spurn me not, if, while you hunt the boar, I guard the nets.” “Prithee, Iollas, for my birthday guest send me your Phyllis; when for the young crops
I slay my heifer, you yourself shall come.” “I am all hers; she wept to see me go, and, lingering on the word, ‘farewell’ she said, ‘My beautiful Iollas, fare you well.’” “Fell as the wolf is to the folded flock, rain to ripe corn, Sirocco to the trees, the wrath of Amaryllis is to me.” “As moisture to the corn, to ewes with young lithe willow, as arbute to the yeanling kids, so sweet Amyntas, and none else, to me.” “My Muse, although she be but country-bred, is loved by Pollio: O Pierian Maids,
pray you, a heifer for your reader feed!” “Pollio himself too doth new verses make: feed ye a bull now ripe to butt with horn, and scatter with his hooves the flying sand.” “Who loves thee, Pollio, may he thither come where thee he joys beholding; ay, for him let honey flow, the thorn-bush spices bear.” “Who hates not Bavius, let him also love thy songs, O Maevius, ay, and therewithal yoke foxes to his car, and he-goats milk.” “You, picking flowers and strawberries that grow so near the ground, fly hence, boys, get you gone!
There's a cold adder lurking in the grass.” “Forbear, my sheep, to tread too near the brink; yon bank is ill to trust to; even now the ram himself, see, dries his dripping fleece!” “Back with the she-goats, Tityrus, grazing there so near the river! I, when time shall serve, will take them all, and wash them in the pool.” “Boys, get your sheep together; if the heat, as late it did, forestall us with the milk, vainly the dried-up udders shall we wring.” “How lean my bull amid the fattening vetch! Alack! alack! for herdsman and for herd!
It is the self-same love that wastes us both.” “These truly—nor is even love the cause— scarce have the flesh to keep their bones together some evil eye my lambkins hath bewitched.” “Say in what clime—and you shall be withal my great Apollo—the whole breadth of heaven opens no wider than three ells to view.” “Say in what country grow such flowers as bear the names of kings upon their petals writ, and you shall have fair Phyllis for your own.” Not mine betwixt such rivals to decide: you well deserve the heifer, so does he,
with all who either fear the sweets of love, or taste its bitterness. Now, boys, shut off the sluices, for the fields have drunk their fill.
Section 4
muses of Sicily, essay we now a somewhat loftier task! Not all men love coppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods, woods worthy of a Consul let them be. Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung has come and gone, and the majestic roll of circling centuries begins anew: justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign, with a new breed of men sent down from heaven. Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whom the iron shall cease, the golden race arise, befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine own
apollo reigns. And in thy consulate, this glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin, and the months enter on their mighty march. Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remain of our old wickedness, once done away, shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear. He shall receive the life of gods, and see heroes with gods commingling, and himself be seen of them, and with his father's worth reign o'er a world at peace. For thee, O boy, first shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forth her childish gifts, the gadding ivy-spray
with foxglove and Egyptian bean-flower mixed, and laughing-eyed acanthus. Of themselves, untended, will the she-goats then bring home their udders swollen with milk, while flocks afield shall of the monstrous lion have no fear. Thy very cradle shall pour forth for thee caressing flowers. The serpent too shall die, die shall the treacherous poison-plant, and far and wide Assyrian spices spring. But soon as thou hast skill to read of heroes' fame, and of thy father's deeds, and inly learn what virtue is, the plain by slow degrees
with waving corn-crops shall to golden grow, from the wild briar shall hang the blushing grape, and stubborn oaks sweat honey-dew. Nathless yet shall there lurk within of ancient wrong some traces, bidding tempt the deep with ships, gird towns with walls, with furrows cleave the earth. Therewith a second Tiphys shall there be, her hero-freight a second Argo bear; new wars too shall arise, and once again some great Achilles to some Troy be sent. Then, when the mellowing years have made thee man, no more shall mariner sail, nor pine-tree bark
ply traffic on the sea, but every land shall all things bear alike: the glebe no more shall feel the harrow's grip, nor vine the hook; the sturdy ploughman shall loose yoke from steer, nor wool with varying colours learn to lie; but in the meadows shall the ram himself, now with soft flush of purple, now with tint of yellow saffron, teach his fleece to shine. While clothed in natural scarlet graze the lambs. “Such still, such ages weave ye, as ye run,” sang to their spindles the consenting Fates by Destiny's unalterable decree.
Assume thy greatness, for the time draws nigh, dear child of gods, great progeny of Jove! See how it totters—the world's orbed might, earth, and wide ocean, and the vault profound, all, see, enraptured of the coming time! Ah! might such length of days to me be given, and breath suffice me to rehearse thy deeds, nor Thracian Orpheus should out-sing me then, nor Linus, though his mother this, and that his sire should aid—Orpheus Calliope, and Linus fair Apollo. Nay, though Pan, with Arcady for judge, my claim contest,
with Arcady for judge great Pan himself should own him foiled, and from the field retire. Begin to greet thy mother with a smile, o baby-boy! ten months of weariness for thee she bore: O baby-boy, begin! For him, on whom his parents have not smiled, gods deem not worthy of their board or bed.
Section 5
Why, Mopsus, being both together met, you skilled to breathe upon the slender reeds, I to sing ditties, do we not sit down here where the elm-trees and the hazels blend? You are the elder, 'tis for me to bide your choice, Menalcas, whether now we seek yon shade that quivers to the changeful breeze, or the cave's shelter. Look you how the cave is with the wild vine's clusters over-laced! None but Amyntas on these hills of ours can vie with you. What if he also strive
to out-sing Phoebus? Do you first begin, good Mopsus, whether minded to sing aught of Phyllis and her loves, or Alcon's praise, or to fling taunts at Codrus. Come, begin, while Tityrus watches o'er the grazing kids. Nay, then, I will essay what late I carved on a green beech-tree's rind, playing by turns, and marking down the notes; then afterward bid you Amyntas match them if he can. As limber willow to pale olive yields, as lowly Celtic nard to rose-buds bright,
so, to my mind, Amyntas yields to you. But hold awhile, for to the cave we come. “For Daphnis cruelly slain wept all the Nymphs— ye hazels, bear them witness, and ye streams— when she, his mother, clasping in her arms the hapless body of the son she bare, to gods and stars unpitying, poured her plaint. Then, Daphnis, to the cooling streams were none that drove the pastured oxen, then no beast drank of the river, or would the grass-blade touch. Nay, the wild rocks and woods then voiced the roar of Afric lions mourning for thy death.
Daphnis, 'twas thou bad'st yoke to Bacchus' car armenian tigresses, lead on the pomp of revellers, and with tender foliage wreathe the bending spear-wands. As to trees the vine is crown of glory, as to vines the grape, bulls to the herd, to fruitful fields the corn, so the one glory of thine own art thou. When the Fates took thee hence, then Pales' self, and even Apollo, left the country lone. Where the plump barley-grain so oft we sowed, there but wild oats and barren darnel spring; for tender violet and narcissus bright
thistle and prickly thorn uprear their heads. Now, O ye shepherds, strew the ground with leaves, and o'er the fountains draw a shady veil— so Daphnis to his memory bids be done— and rear a tomb, and write thereon this verse: ‘I, Daphnis in the woods, from hence in fame am to the stars exalted, guardian once of a fair flock, myself more fair than they.’” So is thy song to me, poet divine, as slumber on the grass to weary limbs, or to slake thirst from some sweet-bubbling rill in summer's heat. Nor on the reeds alone,
but with thy voice art thou, thrice happy boy, ranked with thy master, second but to him. Yet will I, too, in turn, as best I may, sing thee a song, and to the stars uplift thy Daphnis—Daphnis to the stars extol, for me too Daphnis loved. Than such a boon what dearer could I deem? the boy himself was worthy to be sung, and many a time hath Stimichon to me your singing praised. “In dazzling sheen with unaccustomed eyes daphnis stands rapt before Olympus' gate,
and sees beneath his feet the clouds and stars. Wherefore the woods and fields, Pan, shepherd-folk, and Dryad-maidens, thrill with eager joy; nor wolf with treacherous wile assails the flock, nor nets the stag: kind Daphnis loveth peace. The unshorn mountains to the stars up-toss voices of gladness; ay, the very rocks, the very thickets, shout and sing, ‘A god, a god is he, Menalcas’ Be thou kind, propitious to thine own. Lo! altars four, twain to thee, Daphnis, and to Phoebus twain for sacrifice, we build; and I for thee
two beakers yearly of fresh milk afoam, and of rich olive-oil two bowls, will set; and of the wine-god's bounty above all, if cold, before the hearth, or in the shade at harvest-time, to glad the festal hour, from flasks of Ariusian grape will pour sweet nectar. Therewithal at my behest shall Lyctian Aegon and Damoetas sing, and Alphesiboeus emulate in dance the dancing Satyrs. This, thy service due, shalt thou lack never, both when we pay the Nymphs our yearly vows, and when with lustral rites
the fields we hallow. Long as the wild boar shall love the mountain-heights, and fish the streams, while bees on thyme and crickets feed on dew, thy name, thy praise, thine honour, shall endure. Even as to Bacchus and to Ceres, so to thee the swain his yearly vows shall make; and thou thereof, like them, shalt quittance claim.” How, how repay thee for a song so rare? For not the whispering south-wind on its way so much delights me, nor wave-smitten beach, nor streams that race adown their bouldered beds. First this frail hemlock-stalk to you I give,
which taught me “Corydon with love was fired for fair Alexis,” ay, and this beside, “Who owns the flock?—Meliboeus?” But take you this shepherd's crook, which, howso hard he begged, antigenes, then worthy to be loved, prevailed not to obtain—with brass, you see, and equal knots, Menalcas, fashioned fair!
Section 6
first my Thalia stooped in sportive mood to Syracusan strains, nor blushed within the woods to house her. When I sought to tell of battles and of kings, the Cynthian god plucked at mine ear and warned me: “Tityrus, beseems a shepherd-wight to feed fat sheep, but sing a slender song.” Now, Varus, I— for lack there will not who would laud thy deeds, and treat of dolorous wars—will rather tune to the slim oaten reed my silvan lay. I sing but as vouchsafed me; yet even this if, if but one with ravished eyes should read,
of thee, O Varus, shall our tamarisks and all the woodland ring; nor can there be a page more dear to Phoebus, than the page where, foremost writ, the name of Varus stands. Speed ye, Pierian Maids! Within a cave young Chromis and Mnasyllos chanced to see silenus sleeping, flushed, as was his wont, with wine of yesterday. Not far aloof, slipped from his head, the garlands lay, and there by its worn handle hung a ponderous cup. Approaching—for the old man many a time had balked them both of a long hoped-for song—
garlands to fetters turned, they bind him fast. Then Aegle, fairest of the Naiad-band, aegle came up to the half-frightened boys, came, and, as now with open eyes he lay, with juice of blood-red mulberries smeared him o'er, both brow and temples. Laughing at their guile, and crying, “Why tie the fetters? loose me, boys; enough for you to think you had the power; now list the songs you wish for—songs for you, another meed for her”—forthwith began. Then might you see the wild things of the wood, with Fauns in sportive frolic beat the time,
and stubborn oaks their branchy summits bow. Not Phoebus doth the rude Parnassian crag so ravish, nor Orpheus so entrance the heights of Rhodope or Ismarus: for he sang how through the mighty void the seeds were driven of earth, air, ocean, and of liquid fire, how all that is from these beginnings grew, and the young world itself took solid shape, then 'gan its crust to harden, and in the deep shut Nereus off, and mould the forms of things little by little; and how the earth amazed beheld the new sun shining, and the showers
fall, as the clouds soared higher, what time the woods 'gan first to rise, and living things to roam scattered among the hills that knew them not. Then sang he of the stones by Pyrrha cast, of Saturn's reign, and of Prometheus' theft, and the Caucasian birds, and told withal nigh to what fountain by his comrades left the mariners cried on Hylas till the shore then re-echoed “Hylas, Hylas!” soothed pasiphae with the love of her white bull— happy if cattle-kind had never been!— o ill-starred maid, what frenzy caught thy soul
the daughters too of Proetus filled the fields with their feigned lowings, yet no one of them of such unhallowed union e'er was fain as with a beast to mate, though many a time on her smooth forehead she had sought for horns, and for her neck had feared the galling plough. O ill-starred maid! thou roamest now the hills, while on soft hyacinths he, his snowy side reposing, under some dark ilex now chews the pale herbage, or some heifer tracks amid the crowding herd. Now close, ye Nymphs, ye Nymphs of Dicte, close the forest-glades,
if haply there may chance upon mine eyes the white bull's wandering foot-prints: him belike following the herd, or by green pasture lured, some kine may guide to the Gortynian stalls. Then sings he of the maid so wonder-struck with the apples of the Hesperids, and then with moss-bound, bitter bark rings round the forms of Phaethon's fair sisters, from the ground up-towering into poplars. Next he sings of Gallus wandering by Permessus' stream, and by a sister of the Muses led to the Aonian mountains, and how all
the choir of Phoebus rose to greet him; how the shepherd Linus, singer of songs divine, brow-bound with flowers and bitter parsley, spake: “These reeds the Muses give thee, take them thou, erst to the aged bard of Ascra given, wherewith in singing he was wont to draw time-rooted ash-trees from the mountain heights. With these the birth of the Grynean grove be voiced by thee, that of no grove beside apollo more may boast him.” Wherefore speak of Scylla, child of Nisus, who, 'tis said, her fair white loins with barking monsters girt
vexed the Dulichian ships, and, in the deep swift-eddying whirlpool, with her sea-dogs tore the trembling mariners? or how he told of the changed limbs of Tereus—what a feast, what gifts, to him by Philomel were given; how swift she sought the desert, with what wings hovered in anguish o'er her ancient home? All that, of old, Eurotas, happy stream, heard, as Apollo mused upon the lyre, and bade his laurels learn, Silenus sang; till from Olympus, loth at his approach, vesper, advancing, bade the shepherds tell
their tale of sheep, and pen them in the fold.
Section 7
daphnis beneath a rustling ilex-tree had sat him down; Thyrsis and Corydon had gathered in the flock, Thyrsis the sheep, and Corydon the she-goats swollen with milk— both in the flower of age, Arcadians both, ready to sing, and in like strain reply. Hither had strayed, while from the frost I fend my tender myrtles, the he-goat himself, lord of the flock; when Daphnis I espy! Soon as he saw me, “Hither haste,” he cried, “O Meliboeus! goat and kids are safe; and, if you have an idle hour to spare,
rest here beneath the shade. Hither the steers will through the meadows, of their own free will, untended come to drink. Here Mincius hath with tender rushes rimmed his verdant banks, and from yon sacred oak with busy hum the bees are swarming.” What was I to do? No Phyllis or Alcippe left at home had I, to shelter my new-weaned lambs, and no slight matter was a singing-bout 'twixt Corydon and Thyrsis. Howsoe'er, I let my business wait upon their sport. So they began to sing, voice answering voice
in strains alternate—for alternate strains the Muses then were minded to recall— first Corydon, then Thyrsis in reply. “Libethrian Nymphs, who are my heart's delight, grant me, as doth my Codrus, so to sing— next to Apollo he—or if to this we may not all attain, my tuneful pipe here on this sacred pine shall silent hang.” “Arcadian shepherds, wreathe with ivy-spray your budding poet, so that Codrus burst with envy: if he praise beyond my due, then bind my brow with foxglove, lest his tongue
with evil omen blight the coming bard.” “This bristling boar's head, Delian Maid, to thee, with branching antlers of a sprightly stag, young Micon offers: if his luck but hold, full-length in polished marble, ankle-bound with purple buskin, shall thy statue stand.” “A bowl of milk, Priapus, and these cakes, yearly, it is enough for thee to claim; thou art the guardian of a poor man's plot. Wrought for a while in marble, if the flock at lambing time be filled,stand there in gold.” “Daughter of Nereus, Galatea mine,
sweeter than Hybla-thyme, more white than swans, fairer than ivy pale, soon as the steers shall from their pasture to the stalls repair, if aught for Corydon thou carest, come.” “Now may I seem more bitter to your taste than herb Sardinian, rougher than the broom, more worthless than strewn sea-weed, if to-day hath not a year out-lasted! Fie for shame! Go home, my cattle, from your grazing go!” “Ye mossy springs, and grass more soft than sleep, and arbute green with thin shade sheltering you, ward off the solstice from my flock, for now
comes on the burning summer, now the buds upon the limber vine-shoot 'gin to swell.” “Here is a hearth, and resinous logs, here fire unstinted, and doors black with ceaseless smoke. Here heed we Boreas' icy breath as much as the wolf heeds the number of the flock, or furious rivers their restraining banks.” “The junipers and prickly chestnuts stand, and 'neath each tree lie strewn their several fruits, now the whole world is smiling, but if fair alexis from these hill-slopes should away, even the rivers you would ; see run dry.”
“The field is parched, the grass-blades thirst to death in the faint air; Liber hath grudged the hills his vine's o'er-shadowing: should my Phyllis come, green will be all the grove, and Jupiter descend in floods of fertilizing rain.” “The poplar doth Alcides hold most dear, the vine Iacchus, Phoebus his own bays, and Venus fair the myrtle: therewithal phyllis doth hazels love, and while she loves, myrtle nor bay the hazel shall out-vie.” “Ash in the forest is most beautiful, pine in the garden, poplar by the stream,
fir on the mountain-height; but if more oft thou'ldst come to me, fair Lycidas, to thee both forest-ash, and garden-pine should bow.” These I remember, and how Thyrsis strove for victory in vain. From that time forth is Corydon still Corydon with us.
Section 8
of Damon and Alphesiboeus now, those shepherd-singers at whose rival strains the heifer wondering forgot to graze, the lynx stood awe-struck, and the flowing streams, unwonted loiterers, stayed their course to hear— how Damon and Alphesiboeus sang their pastoral ditties, will I tell the tale. Thou, whether broad Timavus' rocky banks thou now art passing, or dost skirt the shore of the Illyrian main,—will ever dawn that day when I thy deeds may celebrate, ever that day when through the whole wide world
I may renown thy verse—that verse alone of Sophoclean buskin worthy found? With thee began, to thee shall end, the strain. Take thou these songs that owe their birth to thee, and deign around thy temples to let creep this ivy-chaplet 'twixt the conquering bays. Scarce had night's chilly shade forsook the sky what time to nibbling sheep the dewy grass tastes sweetest, when, on his smooth shepherd-staff of olive leaning, Damon thus began. “Rise, Lucifer, and, heralding the light, bring in the genial day, while I make moan
fooled by vain passion for a faithless bride, for Nysa, and with this my dying breath call on the gods, though little it bestead— the gods who heard her vows and heeded not. ‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ Ever hath Maenalus his murmuring groves and whispering pines, and ever hears the songs of love-lorn shepherds, and of Pan, who first brooked not the tuneful reed should idle lie. ‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ Nysa to Mopsus given! what may not then we lovers look for? soon shall we see mate
griffins with mares, and in the coming age shy deer and hounds together come to drink. ‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ Now, Mopsus, cut new torches, for they bring your bride along; now, bridegroom, scatter nuts: forsaking Oeta mounts the evening star! ‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ O worthy of thy mate, while all men else thou scornest, and with loathing dost behold my shepherd's pipe, my goats, my shaggy brow, and untrimmed beard, nor deem'st that any god for mortal doings hath regard or care.
‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ Once with your mother, in our orchard-garth, a little maid I saw you—I your guide— plucking the dewy apples. My twelfth year I scarce had entered, and could barely reach the brittle boughs. I looked, and I was lost; a sudden frenzy swept my wits away. ‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ Now know I what Love is: 'mid savage rocks tmaros or Rhodope brought forth the boy, or Garamantes in earth's utmost bounds— no kin of ours, nor of our blood begot.
‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ Fierce Love it was once steeled a mother's heart with her own offspring's blood her hands to imbrue: mother, thou too wert cruel; say wert thou more cruel, mother, or more ruthless he? Ruthless the boy, thou, mother, cruel too. ‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ Now let the wolf turn tail and fly the sheep, tough oaks bear golden apples, alder-trees bloom with narcissus-flower, the tamarisk sweat with rich amber, and the screech-owl vie in singing with the swan: let Tityrus
be Orpheus, Orpheus in the forest-glade, arion 'mid his dolphins on the deep. ‘Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.’ Yea, be the whole earth to mid-ocean turned! Farewell, ye woodlands I from the tall peak of yon aerial rock will headlong plunge into the billows: this my latest gift, from dying lips bequeathed thee, see thou keep. Cease now, my flute, now cease Maenalian lays.’” thus Damon: but do ye, Pierian Maids— we cannot all do all things—tell me how alphesiboeus to his strain replied.
“Bring water, and with soft wool-fillet bind these altars round about, and burn thereon rich vervain and male frankincense, that I may strive with magic spells to turn astray my lover's saner senses, whereunto there lacketh nothing save the power of song. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’ Songs can the very moon draw down from heaven circe with singing changed from human form the comrades of Ulysses, and by song is the cold meadow-snake, asunder burst. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’
These triple threads of threefold colour first I twine about thee, and three times withal around these altars do thine image bear: uneven numbers are the god's delight. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’ Now, Amaryllis, ply in triple knots the threefold colours; ply them fast, and say this is the chain of Venus that I ply. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’ As by the kindling of the self-same fire harder this clay, this wax the softer grows, so by my love may Daphnis; sprinkle meal,
and with bitumen burn the brittle bays. Me Daphnis with his cruelty doth burn, I to melt cruel Daphnis burn this bay. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’ As when some heifer, seeking for her steer through woodland and deep grove, sinks wearied out on the green sedge beside a stream, love-lorn, nor marks the gathering night that calls her home— as pines that heifer, with such love as hers may Daphnis pine, and I not care to heal. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’ These relics once, dear pledges of himself,
the traitor left me, which, O earth, to thee here on this very threshold I commit— pledges that bind him to redeem the debt. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’ These herbs of bane to me did Moeris give, in Pontus culled, where baneful herbs abound. With these full oft have I seen Moeris change to a wolf's form, and hide him in the woods, oft summon spirits from the tomb's recess, and to new fields transport the standing corn. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’ Take ashes, Amaryllis, fetch them forth,
and o'er your head into the running brook fling them, nor look behind: with these will upon the heart of Daphnis make essay. Nothing for gods, nothing for songs cares he. ‘Draw from the town, my songs, draw Daphnis home.’ Look, look I the very embers of themselves have caught the altar with a flickering flame, while I delay to fetch them: may the sign prove lucky! something it must mean, for sure, and Hylax on the threshold 'gins to bark! May we believe it, or are lovers still by their own fancies fooled?
Give o'er, my songs, daphnis is coming from the town, give o'er.”
Section 9
Say whither, Moeris?—Make you for the town, or on what errand bent? O Lycidas, we have lived to see, what never yet we feared, an interloper own our little farm, and say, “Be off, you former husbandmen! These fields are mine.” Now, cowed and out of heart, since Fortune turns the whole world upside down, we are taking him—ill luck go with the same!— these kids you see. But surely I had heard that where the hills first draw from off the plain,
and the high ridge with gentle slope descends, down to the brook-side and the broken crests of yonder veteran beeches, all the land was by the songs of your Menalcas saved. Heard it you had, and so the rumour ran, but 'mid the clash of arms, my Lycidas, our songs avail no more than, as 'tis said, doves of Dodona when an eagle comes. Nay, had I not, from hollow ilex-bole warned by a raven on the left, cut short the rising feud, nor I, your Moeris here, no, nor Menalcas, were alive to-day.
Alack! could any of so foul a crime be guilty? Ah! how nearly, thyself, reft was the solace that we had in thee, Menalcas! Who then of the Nymphs had sung, or who with flowering herbs bestrewn the ground, and o'er the fountains drawn a leafy veil?— who sung the stave I filched from you that day to Amaryllis wending, our hearts' joy?— “While I am gone, 'tis but a little way, feed, Tityrus, my goats, and, having fed, drive to the drinking-pool, and, as you drive, beware the he-goat; with his horn he butts.“
Ay, or to Varus that half-finished lay, “Varus, thy name, so still our Mantua live— Mantua to poor Cremona all too near— shall singing swans bear upward to the stars.” So may your swarms Cyrnean yew-trees shun, your kine with cytisus their udders swell, begin, if aught you have. The Muses made me too a singer; I too have sung; the swains call me a poet, but I believe them not: for naught of mine, or worthy Varius yet or Cinna deem I, but account myself a cackling goose among melodious swans.
'Twas in my thought to do so, Lycidas; even now was I revolving silently if this I could recall—no paltry song: “Come, Galatea, what pleasure is 't to play amid the waves? Here glows the Spring, here earth beside the streams pours forth a thousand flowers; here the white poplar bends above the cave, and the lithe vine weaves shadowy covert: come, leave the mad waves to beat upon the shore.” What of the strain I heard you singing once on a clear night alone? the notes I still remember, could I but recall the words.
“Why, Daphnis, upward gazing, do you mark the ancient risings of the Signs? for look where Dionean Caesar's star comes forth in heaven, to gladden all the fields with corn, and to the grape upon the sunny slopes her colour bring! Now, the pears; so shall your children's children pluck their fruit.” Time carries all things, even our wits, away. Oft, as a boy, I sang the sun to rest, but all those songs are from my memory fled, and even his voice is failing Moeris now; the wolves eyed Moeris first: but at your wish
Menalcas will repeat them oft enow. Your pleas but linger out my heart's desire: now all the deep is into silence hushed, and all the murmuring breezes sunk to sleep. We are half-way thither, for Bianor's tomb begins to show: here, Moeris, where the hinds are lopping the thick leafage, let us sing. Set down the kids, yet shall we reach the town; or, if we fear the night may gather rain ere we arrive, then singing let us go, our way to lighten; and, that we may thus go singing, I will case you of this load.
Cease, boy, and get we to the work in hand: we shall sing better when himself is come.
Section 10
This now, the very latest of my toils, vouchsafe me, Arethusa! needs must I sing a brief song to Gallus—brief, but yet such as Lycoris' self may fitly read. Who would not sing for Gallus? So, when thou beneath Sicanian billows glidest on, may Doris blend no bitter wave with thine, begin! The love of Gallus be our theme, and the shrewd pangs he suffered, while, hard by, the flat-nosed she-goats browse the tender brush. We sing not to deaf ears; no word of ours but the woods echo it. What groves or lawns
held you, ye Dryad-maidens, when for love— love all unworthy of a loss so dear— Gallus lay dying? for neither did the slopes of Pindus or Parnassus stay you then, no, nor Aonian Aganippe. Him even the laurels and the tamarisks wept; for him, outstretched beneath a lonely rock, wept pine-clad Maenalus, and the flinty crags of cold Lycaeus. The sheep too stood around— of us they feel no shame, poet divine; nor of the flock be thou ashamed: even fair Adonis by the rivers fed his sheep—
came shepherd too, and swine-herd footing slow, and, from the winter-acorns dripping-wet Menalcas. All with one accord exclaim: “From whence this love of thine?” Apollo came; “Gallus, art mad?” he cried, “thy bosom's care another love is following.” Therewithal Silvanus came, with rural honours crowned; the flowering fennels and tall lilies shook before him. Yea, and our own eyes beheld pan, god of Arcady, with blood-red juice of the elder-berry, and with vermilion, dyed. “Wilt ever make an end?” quoth he, “behold
love recks not aught of it: his heart no more with tears is sated than with streams the grass, bees with the cytisus, or goats with leaves.” “Yet will ye sing, Arcadians, of my woes upon your mountains,” sadly he replied— “Arcadians, that alone have skill to sing. O then how softly would my ashes rest, if of my love, one day, your flutes should tell! And would that I, of your own fellowship, or dresser of the ripening grape had been, or guardian of the flock! for surely then, let Phyllis, or Amyntas, or who else,
bewitch me—what if swart Amyntas be? Dark is the violet, dark the hyacinth— among the willows, 'neath the limber vine, reclining would my love have lain with me, Phyllis plucked garlands, or Amyntas sung. Here are cool springs, soft mead and grove, Lycoris; here might our lives with time have worn away. But me mad love of the stern war-god holds armed amid weapons and opposing foes. Whilst thou—Ah! might I but believe it not!— alone without me, and from home afar, look'st upon Alpine snows and frozen Rhine.
Ah! may the frost not hurt thee, may the sharp and jagged ice not wound thy tender feet! I will depart, re-tune the songs I framed in verse Chalcidian to the oaten reed of the Sicilian swain. Resolved am I in the woods, rather, with wild beasts to couch, and bear my doom, and character my love upon the tender tree-trunks: they will grow, and you, my love, grow with them. And meanwhile I with the Nymphs will haunt Mount Maenalus, or hunt the keen wild boar. No frost so cold but I will hem with hounds thy forest-glades,
parthenius. Even now, methinks, I range o'er rocks, through echoing groves, and joy to launch Cydonian arrows from a Parthian bow.— as if my madness could find healing thus, or that god soften at a mortal's grief! Now neither Hamadryads, no, nor songs delight me more: ye woods, away with you! No pangs of ours can change him; not though we in the mid-frost should drink of Hebrus' stream, and in wet winters face Sithonian snows, or, when the bark of the tall elm-tree bole of drought is dying, should, under Cancer's Sign,
in Aethiopian deserts drive our flocks. Love conquers all things; yield we too to love!” These songs, Pierian Maids, shall it suffice your poet to have sung, the while he sat, and of slim mallow wove a basket fine: to Gallus ye will magnify their worth, Gallus, for whom my love grows hour by hour, as the green alder shoots in early Spring. Come, let us rise: the shade is wont to be baneful to singers; baneful is the shade cast by the juniper, crops sicken too in shade. Now homeward, having fed your fill—
eve's star is rising—go, my she-goats, go.
Contents — 10 sections
Section 1
Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagi silvestrem tenui Musam meditaris avena; nos patriae fines et dulcia linquimus arva: nos patriam fugimus; tu, Tityre, lentus in umbra formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas. O Meliboee, deus nobis haec otia fecit: namque erit ille mihi semper deus; illius aram saepe tener nostris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus. Ille meas errare boves, ut cernis, et ipsum ludere, quae vellem, calamo permisit agresti Non equidem invideo; miror magis: undique totis usque adeo turbatur agris. En, ipse capellas
protinus aeger ago; hanc etiam vix, Tityre, duco: hic inter densas corylos modo namque gemellos, spem gregis, ah, silice in nuda conixa reliquit. Saepe malum hoc nobis, si mens non laeva fuisset, de caelo tactas memini praedicere quercus:— Sed tamen, iste deus qui sit, da, Tityre, nobis. Urbem, quam dicunt Romam, Meliboee, putavi stultus ego huic nostrae similem, quo saepe solemus pastores ovium teneros depellere fetus: sic canibus catulos similis, sic matribus haedos noram, sic parvis componere magna solebam: verum haec tantum alias inter caput extulit urbes,
quantum lenta solent inter viburna cupressi. Et quae tanta fuit Romam tibi causa videndi? Libertas; quae sera, tamen respexit inertem, candidior postquam tondenti barba cadebat; respexit tamen, et longo post tempore venit, postquam nos Amaryllis habet, Galatea reliquit: namque, fatebor enim, dum me Galatea tenebat, nec spes libertatis erat, nec cura peculi: quamvis multa meis exiret victima saeptis, pinguis et ingratae premeretur caseus urbi, non umquam gravis aere domum mihi dextra redibat. Mirabar, quid maesta deos, Amarylli, vocares,
cui pendere sua patereris in arbore poma: Tityrus hinc aberat. Ipsae te, Tityre, pinus, ipsi te fontes, ipsa haec arbusta vocabant. Quid facerem? Neque servitio me exire licebat, nec tam praesentis alibi cognoscere divos. hic illum vidi iuvenem, Meliboee, quot annis bis senos cui nostra dies altaria fumant; hic mihi responsum primus dedit ille petenti: “pascite, ut ante, boves, pueri, submittite tauros.” Fortunate senex, ergo tua rura manebunt, et tibi magna satis, quamvis lapis omnia nudus limosoque palus obducat pascua iunco!
Non insueta gravis temptabunt pabula fetas, nec mala vicini pecoris contagia laedent. Fortunate senex, hic, inter flumina nota et fontis sacros, frigus captabis opacum! hinc tibi, quae semper, vicino ab limite, saepes Hyblaeis apibus florem depasta salicti saepe levi somnum suadebit inire susurro; hinc alta sub rupe canet frondator ad auras; nec tamen interea raucae, tua cura, palumbes, nec gemere aëria cessabit turtur ab ulmo. Ante leves ergo pascentur in aequore cervi, et freta destituent nudos in litore pisces,
ante pererratis amborum finibus exsul aut Ararim Parthus bibet, aut Germania Tigrim, quam nostro illius labatur pectore voltus. At nos hinc alii sitientis ibimus Afros, pars Scythiam et rapidum Cretae veniemus Oaxen, et penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos. En umquam patrios longo post tempore finis, pauperis et tuguri congestum caespite culmen, post aliquot mea regna videns mirabor aristas? Impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit, barbarus has segetes? En, quo discordia civis produxit miseros! His nos consevimus agros!
Insere nunc, Meliboee, piros, pone ordine vitis. Ite meae, felix quondam pecus, ite capellae. Non ego vos posthac, viridi proiectus in antro, dumosa pendere procul de rupe videbo; carmina nulla canam; non, me pascente, capellae, florentem cytisum et salices carpetis amaras. Hic tamen hanc mecum poteras requiescere noctem fronde super viridi: sunt nobis mitia poma, castaneae molles, et pressi copia lactis; et iam summa procul villarum culmina fumant, maioresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae.
Section 2
Formosum pastor Corydon ardebat Alexim, delicias domini, nec quid speraret habebat; tantum inter densas, umbrosa cacumina, fagos adsidue veniebat. Ibi haec incondita solus montibus et silvis studio iactabat inani: O crudelis Alexi, nihil mea carmina curas? Nil nostri miserere? Mori me denique coges. nunc etiam pecudes umbras et frigora captant; nunc viridis etiam occultant spineta lacertos, Thestylis et rapido fessis messoribus aestu alia serpyllumque herbas contundit olentis. at mecum raucis, tua dum vestigia lustro,
sole sub ardenti resonant arbusta cicadis. Nonne fuit satius tristis Amaryllidis iras atque superba pati fastidia, nonne Menalcan, quam vis ille niger, quamvis tu candidus esses ? o formose puer, nimium ne crede colori! alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur. Despectus tibi sum, nec qui sim quaeris, Alexi, quam dives pecoris, nivei quam lactis abundans. mille meae Siculis errant in montibus agnae; lac mihi non aestate novum, non frigore defit; canto quae solitus, si quando armenta vocabat, Amphion Dircaeus in Actaeo Aracimtho.
Nec sum adeo informis: nuper me in litore vidi, cum placidum ventis staret mare; non ego Daphnim iudice te metuam, si numquam fallit imago. O tantum libeat mecum tibi sordida rura atque humilis habitare casas, et figere cervos, haedorumque gregem viridi compellere hibisco! Mecum una in silvis imitabere Pana canendo. Pan primus calamos cera coniungere pluris instituit; Pan curat ovis oviumque magistros. Nec te paeniteat calamo trivisse labellum: haec eadem ut sciret, quid non faciebat Amyntas? est mihi disparibus septem compacta cicutis
fistula, Damoetas dono mihi quam dedit olim, et dixit moriens: “Te nunc habet ista secundum.” dixit Damoetas, invidit stultus Amyntas. Praeterea duo, nec tuta mihi valle reperti, capreoli, sparsis etiam nunc pellibus albo, bina die siccant ovis ubera; quos tibi servo: iam pridem a me illos abducere Thestylis orat; et faciet, quoniam sordent tibi munera nostra. Huc ades, O formose puer: tibi lilia plenis ecce ferunt Nymphae calathis; tibi candida Nais, pallentis violas et summa papavera carpens, narcissum et florem iungit bene olentis anethi;
tum casia atque aliis intexens suavibus herbis, mollia luteola pingit vaccinia calta. Ipse ego cana legam tenera lanugine mala, castaneasque nuces, mea quas Amaryllis amabat; addam cerea pruna: honos erit huic quoque pomo; et vos, O lauri, carpam, et te, proxima myrte, sic positae quoniam suavis miscetis odores. Rusticus es, Corydon: nec munera curat Alexis, nec, si muneribus certes, concedat Iollas. Heu, heu, quid volui misero mihi! Floribus austrum perditus et liquidis inmisi fontibus apros. Quem fugis, ah, demens? Habitarunt di quoque silvas,
Dardaniusque Paris. Pallas, quas condidit arces, ipsa colat; nobis placeant ante omnia silvae. Torva leaena lupum sequitur; lupus ipse capellam; florentem cytisum sequitur lasciva capella; te Corydon, o Alexi: trahit sua quemque voluptas. Aspice, aratra iugo referunt suspensa iuvenci, et sol crescentis decedens duplicat umbras: me tamen urit amor; quis enim modus adsit amori? Ah, Corydon, Corydon, quae te dementia cepit! Semiputata tibi frondosa vitis in ulmo est; quin tu aliquid saltem potius, quorum indiget usus, viminibus mollique paras detexere iunco?
Invenies alium, si te hic fastidit, Alexim.
Section 3
Dic mihi, Damoeta, cuium pecus, an Meliboei? Non, verum Aegonis; nuper mihi tradidit Aegon. Infelix o semper, ovis, pecus, ipse Neaeram dum fovet, ac ne me sibi praeferat illa veretur, hic alienus ovis custos bis mulget in hora, et sucus pecori et lac subducitur agnis. Parcius ista viris tamen obicienda memento: novimus et qui te, transversa tuentibus hircis, et quo—sed faciles Nymphae risere—sacello. Tum, credo, cum me arbustum videre Miconis atque mala vitis incidere falce novellas. Aut hic ad veteres fagos cum Daphnidis arcum
fregisti et calamos quae tu, perverse Menalca, et cum vidisti puero donata, dolebas, et si non aliqua nocuisses, mortuus esses. Quid domini faciant, audent cum talia fures! non ego te vidi Damonis, pessime, caprum excipere insidiis, multum latrante Lycisca? et cum clamarem: “Quo nunc se proripit ille? Tityre, coge pecus,” tu post carecta latebas. An mihi cantando victus non redderet ille quem mea carminibus meruisset fistula caprum? Si nescis, meus ille caper fuit; et mihi Damon ipse fatebatur, sed reddere posse negabat.
Cantando tu illum, aut umquam tibi fistula cera iuncta fuit? Non tu in triviis, indocte, solebas stridenti miserum stipula disperdere carmen? Vis ergo inter nos quid possit uterque vicissim experiamur? Ego hanc vitulam—ne forte recuses, bis venit ad mulctram, binos alit ubere fetus— depono: tu dic, mecum quo pignore certes. De grege non ausim quicquam deponere tecum. Est mihi namque domi pater, est iniusta noverca; bisque die numerant ambo pecus, alter et haedos. Verum, id quod multo tute ipse fatebere maius, insanire libet quoniam tibi, pocula ponam
fagina, caelatum divini opus Alcimedontis; lenta quibus torno facili superaddita vitis diffusos hedera vestit pallente corymbos: in medio duo signa, Conon, et—quis fuit alter, descripsit radio totum qui gentibus orbem, tempora quae messor, quae curvus arator haberet? Necdum illis labra admovi, sed condita servo. Et nobis idem Alcimedon duo pocula fecit, et molli circum est ansas amplexus acantho, Orpheaque in medio posuit silvasque sequentis. Necdum illis labra admovi, sed condita servo: si ad vitulam spectas, nihil est quod pocula laudes.
Nunquam hodie effugies; veniam, quocumque vocari audiat haec tantum—vel qui venit ecce Palaemon efficiam posthac ne quemquam voce lacessas. Quin age, si quid habes, in me mora non erit ulla, nec quemquam fugio: tantum, vicine Palaemon, sensibus haec imis, res est non parva, reponas. Dicite, quandoquidem in molli consedimus herba: et nunc omnis ager, nunc omnis parturit arbos, nunc frondent silvae, nunc formosissimus annus. Incipe, Darmoeta; tu deinde sequere Menalca: alternis dicetis; amant alterna Camenae. Ab Iove principium, Musae; Iovis omnia plena:
ille colit terras, illi mea carmina curae. Et me Phoebus amat; Phoebo sua semper apud me munera sunt, lauri et suave rubens hyacinthus. Malo me Galatea petit, lasciva puella, et fugit ad salices, et se cupit ante videri. At mihi sese offert ultro, meus ignis, Amyntas, notior ut iam sit canibus non Delia nostris. Parta meae Veneri sunt munera: namque notavi ipse locum, aëriae quo congessere palumbes. Quod potui, puero silvestri ex arbore lecta aurea mala decem misi; cras altera mittam. O quotiens et quae nobis Galatea locuta est!
partem aliquam, venti, divom referatis ad auris! Quid prodest, quod me ipse animo non spernis, Amynta. si, dum tu sectaris apros, ego retia servo? Phyllida mitte mihi: meus est natalis, Iolla; cum faciam vitula pro frugibus, ipse venito. Phyllida amo ante alias; nam me discedere flevit, et longum “formose, vale, vale,” inquit, “Iolla.” Triste lupus stabulis, maturis frugibus imbres. arboribus venti, nobis Amaryllidis irae. Dulce satis umor, depulsis arbutus haedis, lenta salix feto pecori, mihi solus Amyntas. Pollio amat nostram, quamvis est rustica, Musam:
Pierides vitulam lectori pascite vestro. Pollio et ipse facit nova carmina: pascite taurum, iam cornu petat et pedibus qui spargat arenam. Qui te, Pollio, amat, veniat quo te quoque gaudet: mella fluant illi, ferat et rubus asper amomum. Qui Bavium non odit, amet tua carmina, Maevi, atque idem iungat vulpes et mulgeat hircos. Qui legitis flores et humi nascentia fraga, frigidus, O pueri, fugite hinc, latet anguis in herba. Parcite, oves, nimium procedere; non bene ripae creditur; ipse aries etiam nunc vellera siccat. Tityre, pascentes a flumine reice capellas:
ipse ubi tempus erit, omnis in fonte lavabo. Cogite ovis, pueri; si lac praeceperit aestus, ut nuper, frustra pressabimus ubera palmis. Heu, heu, quam pingui macer est mihi taurus in ervo! Idem amor exitium est pecori pecorisque magistro. His certe neque amor causa est; vix ossibus haerent. nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos. Dic, quibus in terris—et eris mihi magnus Apollo— tris pateat caeli spatium non amplius ulnas. Dic, quibus in terris inscripti nomina regum nascantur flores, et Phyllida solus habeto. Non nostrum inter vos tantas componere lites.
Et vitula tu dignus, et hic, et quisquis amores aut metuet dulces, aut experietur amaros. Claudite iam rivos, pueri, sat prata biberunt.
Section 4
Sicelides Musae, paulo maiora canamus! Non omnis arbusta iuvant humilesque myricae; si canimus silvas, silvae sint consule dignae. Ultima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas; magnus ab integro saeclorum nascitur ordo: iam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna; iam nova progenies caelo demittitur alto. Tu modo nascenti puero, quo ferrea primum desinet ac toto surget gens aurea mundo, casta fave Lucina: tuus iam regnat Apollo. Teque adeo decus hoc aevi te consule inibit, Pollio, et incipient magni procedere menses.
te duce, si qua manent sceleris vestigia nostri, inrita perpetua solvent formidine terras. ille deum vitam accipiet, divisque videbit permixtos heroas, et ipse videbitur illis, pacatumque reget patriis virtutibus orbem. At tibi prima, puer, nullo munuscula cultu errantis hederas passim cum baccare tellus mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho. Ipsae lacte domum referent distenta capellae ubera, nec magnos metuent armenta leones; ipsa tibi blandos fundent cunabula flores, occidet et serpens, et fallax herba veneni
occidet, Assyrium volgo nascetur amomum. at simul heroum laudes et facta parentis iam legere et quae sit poteris cognoscere virtus, molli paulatim flavescet campus arista, incultisque rubens pendebit sentibus uva, et durae quercus sudabunt roscida mella Pauca tamen suberunt priscae vestigia fraudis, quae temptare Thetim ratibus, quae cingere muris oppida, quae iubeant telluri infindere sulcos: alter erit tum Tiphys, et altera quae vehat Argo delectos Heroas; erunt etiam altera bella, atque iterum ad Troiam magnus mittetur Achilles.
Hinc, ubi iam firmata virum te fecerit aetas, cedet et ipse mari vector, nec nautica pinus mutabit merces: omnis feret omnia tellus: non rastros patietur humus, non vinea falcem; robustus quoque iam tauris iuga solvet arator; nec varios discet mentiri lana colores: ipse sed in pratis aries iam suave rubenti murice, iam croceo mutabit vellera luto; sponte sua sandyx pascentis vestiet agnos. Talia saecla, suis dixerunt, currite, fusis concordes stabili fatorum numine Parcae. Adgredere o magnos—aderit iam tempus—honores,
cara deum suboles, magnum Iovis incrementum! Aspice convexo nutantem pondere mundum, terrasque tractusque maris caelumque profundum! Aspice, venturo laetentur ut omnia saeclo! O mihi tam longae maneat pars ultima vitae, spiritus et quantum sat erit tua dicere facta! Non me carminibus vincet nec Thracius Orpheus, nec Linus, huic mater quamvis atque huic pater adsit, Orphei Calliopea, Lino formosus Apollo, Pan etiam, Arcadia mecum si iudice certet, Pan etiam Arcadia dicat se iudice victum. Incipe, parve puer, risu cognoscere matrem,
matri longa decem tulerunt fastidia menses. Incipe, parve puer, cui non risere parentes, nec deus hunc mensa, dea nec dignata cubili est.
Section 5
Cur non, Mopse, boni quoniam convenimus ambo, tu calamos inflare levis, ego dicere versus, hic corylis mixtas inter consedimus ulmos? Tu maior; tibi me est aequum parere, Menalca, sive sub incertas zephyris motantibus umbras, sive antro potius succedimus: aspice, ut antrum silvestris raris sparsit labrusca racemis. Montibus in nostris solus tibi certat Amyntas. Quid, si idem certet Phoebum superare canendo? Incipe, Mopse, prior, si quos aut Phyllidis ignes, aut Alconis habes laudes, aut iurgia Codri: incipe, pascentis servabit Tityrus haedos.
Immo haec, in viridi nuper quae cortice fagi carmina descripsi et modulans alterna notavi, experiar, tu deinde iubeto ut certet Amyntas. Lenta salix quantum pallenti cedit olivae, puniceis humilis quantum saliunca rosetis, iudicio nostro tantum tibi cedit Amyntas. sed tu desine plura, puer; successimus antro. Extinctum nymphae crudeli funere Daphnim flebant; vos coryli testes et flumina nymphis; cum complexa sui corpus miserabile nati, atque deos atque astra vocat crudelia mater. Non ulli pastos illis egere diebus
frigida, Daphni, boves ad flumina; nulla neque amnem libavit quadrupes, nec graminis attigit herbam. Daphni, tuum Poenos etiam ingemuisse leones interitum montesque feri silvaeque loquuntur. Daphnis et Armenias curru subiungere tigres instituit; Daphnis thiasos inducere Bacchi, et foliis lentas intexere mollibus hastas. Vitis ut arboribus decori est, ut vitibus uvae, ut gregibus tauri, segetes ut pinguibus arvis, tu decus omne tuis. Postquam te fata tulerunt, ipsa Pales agros atque ipse reliquit Apollo. Grandia saepe quibus mandavimus hordea sulcis,
infelix lolium et steriles nascuntur avenae; pro molli viola, pro purpureo narcisso, carduus et spinis surgit paliurus acutis. Spargite humum foliis, inducite fontibus umbras, pastores, mandat fieri sibi talia Daphnis; et tumulum facite, et tumulo superaddite carmen: DAPHNIS EGO IN SILVIS HINC VSQUE AD SIDERA NOTVS FORMONSI PECORIS CVSTOS FORMONSIOR IPSE. Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine poeta, quale sopor fessis in gramine, quale per aestum dulcis aquae saliente sitim restinguere rivo: nec calamis solum aequiparas, sed voce magistrum.
Nos tamen haec quocumque modo tibi nostra vicissim dicemus, Daphnimque tuum tollemus ad astra; Daphnin ad astra feremus: amavit nos quoque Daphnis. An quicquam nobis tali sit munere maius Et puer ipse fuit cantari dignus, et ista iam pridem Stimichon laudavit carmina nobis. Candidus insuetum miratur limen Olympi, sub pedibusque videt nubes et sidera Daphnis. ergo alacris silvas et cetera rura voluptas Panaque pastoresque tenet, Dryadasque puellas; nec lupus insidias pecori, nec retia cervis ulla dolum meditantur: amat bonus otia Daphnis.
ipsi laetitia voces ad sidera iactant intonsi montes; ipsae iam carmina rupes, ipsa sonant arbusta: “Deus, deus ille, Menalca.” Sis bonus O felixque tuis! En quattuor aras: ecce duas tibi, Daphni, duas altaria Phoebo. pocula bina novo spumantia lacte quotannis, craterasque duo statuam tibi pinguis olivi, et multo in primis hilarans convivia Baccho,— ante focum, si frigus erit, si messis, in umbra,— vina novum fundam calathis Ariusia nectar. cantabunt mihi Damoetas et Lyctius Aegon; saltantis satyros imitabitur Alphesiboeus.
Haec tibi semper erunt, et cum solemnia vota reddemus Nymphis, et cum lustrabimus agros. Dum iuga montis aper, fluvios dum piscis amabit, dumque thymo pascentur apes, dum rore cicadae, semper honos nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt; ut Baccho Cererique, tibi sic vota quotannis agricolae facient: damnabis tu quoque votis. Quae tibi, quae tali reddam pro carmine dona? Nam neque me tantum venientis sibilus austri, nec percussa iuvant fluctu tam litora, nec quae saxosas inter decurrunt flumina valles. Hac te nos fragili donabimus ante cicuta:
haec nos, “Formosum Corydon ardebat Alexim,” haec eadem docuit, “Cuium pecus, an Meliboei?” At tu sume pedum, quod, me cum saepe rogaret, non tulit Antigenes—et erat tum dignus amari— formosum paribus nodis atque aere, Menalca.
Section 6
Prima Syracosio dignata est ludere versu, nostra nec erubuit silvas habitare Thalia. Cum canerem reges et proelia, Cynthius aurem vellit, et admonuit: “Pastorem, Tityre, pinguis pascere oportet ovis, deductum dicere carmen.” Nunc ego—namque super tibi erunt, qui dicere laudes, Vare, tuas cupiant, et tristia condere bella— agrestem tenui meditabor arundine Musam. Non iniussa cano: si quis tamen haec quoque, si quis captus amore leget, te nostrae, Vare, myricae, te nemus omne canet; nec Phoebo gratior ulla est, quam sibi quae Vari praescripsit pagina nomen.
Pergite, Pierides! Chromis et Mnasyllos in antro Silenum pueri somno videre iacentem, inflatum hesterno venas, ut semper, Iaccho: serta procul tantum capiti delapsa iacebant, et gravis attrita pendebat cantharus ansa. Adgressi—nam saepe senex spe carminis ambo luserat—iniciunt ipsis ex vincula sertis: addit se sociam, timidisque supervenit Aegle,— Aegle, Naiadum pulcherrima,—iamque videnti sanguineis frontem moris et tempora pingit. Ille dolum ridens, “Quo vincula nectitis?” inquit; “solvite me, pueri; satis est potuisse videri:
carmina, quae voltis, cognoscite; carmina vobis, huic aliud mercedis erit.” Simul incipit ipse. Tum vero in numerum Faunosque ferasque videres ludere, tum rigidas motare cacumina quercus; nec tantum Phoebo gaudet Parnasia rupes, nec tantum Rhodope miratur et Ismarus Orphea. Namque canebat, uti magnum per inane coacta semina terrarumque animaeque marisque fuissent, et liquidi simul ignis; ut his exordia primis omnia et ipse tener mundi concreverit orbis; tum durare solum et discludere Nerea ponto coeperit, et rerum paulatim sumere formas;
iamque novum terrae stupeant lucescere solem, altius atque cadant submotis nubibus imbres; incipiant silvae cum primum surgere, cumque rara per ignaros errent animalia montis. Hinc lapides Pyrrhae iactos, Saturnia regna, Caucasiasque refert volucres, furtumque Promethei: his adiungit, Hylan nautae quo fonte relictum clamassent, ut litus “Hyla, Hyla!” omne sonaret. et fortunatam, si numquam armenta fuissent, Pasiphaen nivei solatur amore iuvenci. ah, virgo infelix, quae te dementia cepit! Proetides inplerunt falsis mugitibus agros:
at non tam turpis pecudum tamen ulla secuta est concubitus, quamvis collo timuisset aratrum, et saepe in levi quaesisset cornua fronte. ah, virgo infelix, tu nunc in montibus erras: ille, latus niveum molli fultus hyacintho, ilice sub nigra pallentis ruminat herbas, aut aliquam in magno sequitur grege. “Claudite, nymphae, Dictaeae nymphae, nemorum iam claudite saltus, si qua forte ferant oculis sese obvia nostris errabunda bovis vestigia; forsitan illum, aut herba captum viridi, aut armenta secutum, perducant aliquae stabula ad Gortynia vaccae.”
Tum canit Hesperidum miratam mala puellam; tum Phaethontiades musco circumdat amaro corticis, atque solo proceras erigit alnos. Tum canit, errantem Permessi ad flumina Gallum Aonas in montis ut duxerit una sororum, utque viro Phoebi chorus adsurrexerit omnis; ut Linus haec illi, divino carmine pastor, floribus atque apio crinis ornatus amaro, dixerit: “Hos tibi dant calamos, en accipe, Musae, Ascraeo quos ante seni, quibus ille solebat cantando rigidas deducere montibus ornos: his tibi Grynei nemoris dicatur origo,
ne quis sit lucus, quo se plus iactet Apollo.” Quid loquar aut Scyllam Nisi, quam fama secuta est candida succinctam latrantibus inguina monstris Dulichias vexasse rates, et gurgite in alto, ah, timidos nautas canibus lacerasse marinis, aut ut mutatos Terei narraverit artus; quas illi Philomela dapes, quae dona pararit, quo cursu deserta petiverit, et quibus ante infelix sua tecta supervolitaverit alis? Omnia, quae Phoebo quondam meditante, beatus audiit Eurotas, iussitque ediscere laurus, ille canit: pulsae referunt ad sidera valles;
cogere donec ovis stabulis numerumque referri iussit, et invito processit Vesper Olympo.
Section 7
Forte sub arguta consederat ilice Daphnis, compulerantque greges Corydon et Thyrsis in unum, Trhyrsis ovis, Corydon distentas lacte capellas, ambo florentes aetatibus, Arcades ambo, et cantare pares, et respondere parati. Huc mihi, dum teneras defendo a frigore myrtos, vir gregis ipse caper deerraverat; atque ego Daphnim aspicio. Ille ubi me contra videt: “Ocius” inquit “huc ades, O Meliboee, caper tibi salvus et haedi; et, si quid cessare potes, requiesce sub umbra. huc ipsi potum venient per prata iuvenci, hic viridis tenera praetexit arundine ripas
Mincius, eque sacra resonant examina quercu.” Quid facerem? Neque ego Alcippen, nec Phyllida habebam, depulsos a lacte domi quae clauderet agnos, et certamen erat, Corydon cum Thyrside, magnum. posthabui tamen illorum mea seria ludo: alternis igitur contendere versibus ambo coepere; alternos Musae meminisse volebant. hos Corydon, illos referebat in ordine Thyrsis. Nymphae, noster amor, Libethrides, aut mihi carmen, quale meo Codro, concedite: proxima Phoebi versibus ille facit; aut, si non possumus omnes, hic arguta sacra pendebit fistula pinu.
Pastores, hedera crescentem ornate poetam, Arcades, invidia rumpantur ut ilia Codro; aut si ultra placitum laudarit, baccare frontem cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro. Saetosi caput hoc apri tibi, Delia, parvus et ramosa Micon vivacis cornua cervi. Si proprium hoc fuerit, levi de marmore tota puniceo stabis suras evincta coturno. Sinum lactis et haec te liba, Priape, quotannis exspectare sat est: custos es pauperis horti. Nunc te marmoreum pro tempore fecimus; at tu, si fetura gregem suppleverit, aureus esto.
Nerine Galatea, thymo mihi dulcior Hyblae, candidior cycnis, hedera formosior alba, cum primum pasti repetent praesepia tauri, si qua tui Corydonis habet te cura, venito. Immo ego Sardoniis videar tibi amarior herbis, horridior rusco, proiecta vilior alga, si mihi non haec lux toto iam longior anno est. Ite domum pasti, si quis pudor, ite iuvenci. Muscosi fontes et somno mollior herba, et quae vos rara viridis tegit arbutus umbra, solstitium pecori defendite; iam venit aestas torrida, iam lento turgent in palmite gemmae.
Hic focus et taedae pingues, hic plurimus ignis semper, et adsidua postes fuligine nigri; hic tantum Boreae curamus frigora, quantum aut numerum lupus, aut torrentia flumina ripas. Stant et iuniperi, et castaneae hirsutae; strata iacent passim sua quaque sub arbore poma; omnia nunc rident: at si formosus Alexis montibus his abeat, videas et flumina sicca. Aret ager; vitio moriens sitit aeris herba; Liber pampineas invidit collibus umbras: Phyllidis adventu nostrae nemus omne virebit, Iuppiter et laeto descendet plurimus imbri.
Populus Alcidae gratissima, vitis Iaccho, formosae myrtus Veneri, sua laurea Phoebo; Phyllis amat corylos: illas dum Phyllis amabit, nec myrtus vincet corylos, nec laurea Phoebi. Fraxinus in silvis pulcherrima, pinus in hortis, populus in fluviis, abies in montibus altis: saepius at si me, Lycida formose, revisas, fraxinus in silvis cedat tibi, pinus in hortis. Haec memini, et victum frustra contendere Thyrsim: ex illo Corydon Corydon est tempore nobis.
Section 8
Pastorem Musam Damonis et Alphesiboei— immemor herbarum quos est mirata iuvenca certantis, quorum stupefactae carmine lynces, et mutata suos requierunt flumina cursus— Illonis Musam dicemus et Alphesiboei. Tu mihi seu magni superas iam saxa Timavi, sive oram Illyrici legis aequoris, en erit umquam ille dies, mihi cum liceat tua dicere facta? en erit ut liceat totum mihi ferre per orbem sola Sophocleo tua carmina digna coturno? A te principium, tibi desinam: accipe iussis carmina coepta tuis, atque hanc sine tempora circum
inter victrices hederam tibi serpere laurus. Frigida vix caelo noctis decesserat umbra, cum ros in tenera pecori gratissimus herba; incumbens tereti Damon sic coepit olivae. Nascere, praeque diem veniens age, Lucifer, almum, coniugis indigno Nisae deceptus amore dum queror, et divos, quamquam nil testibus illis profeci, extrema moriens tamen adloquor hora. Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus. Maenalus argutumque nemus pinosque loquentis semper habet; semper pastorum ille audit amores, Panaque, qui primus calamos non passus inertis.
Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus. Mopso Nisa datur: quid non speremus amantes? Iungentur iam grypes equis, aevoque sequenti cum canibus timidi venient ad pocula dammae. Mopse, novas incide faces: tibi ducitur uxor; sparge, marite, nuces: tibi deserit Hesperus Oetam. Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus. O digno coniuncta viro, dum despicis omnes, dumque tibi est odio mea fistula, dumque capellae, hirsutumque supercilium promissaque barba, nec curare deum credis mortalia quemquam! Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus.
Saepibus in nostris parvam te roscida mala— dux ego vester eram—vidi cum matre legentem. Alter ab undecimo tum me iam acceperat annus; iam fragilis poteram ab terra contingere ramos. Ut vidi, ut perii! Ut me malus abstulit error! Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus. Nunc scio, quid sit Amor: duris in cotibus illum aut Tmaros, aut Rhodope, aut extremm Garamantes, nec generis nostri puerum nec sanguinis edunt. Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus. saevus Amor docuit natorum sanguine matrem commaculare manus; crudelis tu quoque, mater:
crudelis mater magis, an puer improbus ille? improbus ille puer; crudelis tu quoque, mater. Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus. nunc et ovis ultro fugiat lupus; aurea durae mala ferant quercus; narcisso floreat alnus; pinguia corticibus sudent electra myricae; certent et cycnis ululae; sit Tityrus Orpheus, Orpheus in silvis, inter delphinas Arion. Incipe Maenalios mecum, mea tibia, versus. Omnia vel medium fiant mare: vivite, silvae! praeceps aerii specula de montis in undas deferar; extremum hoc munus morientis habeto.
desine Maenalios, iam desine, tibia, versus. Haec Damon: vos, quae responderit Alphesiboeus, dicite, Pierides; non omnia possumus omnes. Effer aquam, et molli cinge haec altaria vitta, verbenasque adole pinguis et mascula tura, coniugis ut magicis sanos avertere sacris experiar sensus nihil hic nisi carmina desunt. Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. Carmina vel caelo possunt deducere Lunam; carminibus Circe socios mutavit Ulixi; frigidus in pratia cantando rumpitur anguis. Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim.
terna tibi haec primum triplici diversa colore licia circumdo, terque haec altaria circum effigiem duco: numero deus impare gaudet. Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. Necte tribus nodis ternos, Amarylli, colores, necte, Amarylli, modo, et “Veneris” dic “vincula necto.” Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. Limus ut hic durescit et haec ut cera liquescit uno eodemque igni, sic nostro Daphnis amore. Sparge molam, et fragilis incende bitumine laurus. Daphnis me malus urit, ego hanc in Daphnide laurum. Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim.
Talis amor Daphnim, qualis cum fessa iuvencum per nemora atque altos quaerendo bucula lucos propter aquae rivum viridi procumbit in ulva, perdita, nec serae meminit decedere nocti, talis amor teneat, nec sit mihi cura mederi. Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. Has olim exuvias mihi perfidus ille reliquit, pignora cara sui, quae nunc ego limine in ipso, terra, tibi mando; debent haec pignora Daphnim. Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. Has herbas atque haec Ponto mihi lecta venena ipse dedit Moeris; nascuntur plurima Ponto.
His ego saepe lupum fieri et se condere silvis Moerim, saepe animas imis excire sepulcris, atque satas alio vidi traducere messis. Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. Fer cineres, Amarylli, foras, rivoque fluenti transque caput iace, nec respexeris: his ego Daphnim adgrediar, nihil ille deos, nil carmina curat. Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. Aspice, corripuit tremulis altaria flammis sponte sua, dum ferre moror, cinis ipse: bonum sit! Nescio quid certe est, et Hylas in limine latrat. Credimus, an, qui amant, ipsi sibi somnia fingunt?
Parcite, ab urbe venit, iam carmina, parcite, Daphnis.
Section 9
te, Moeri, pedes? an, quo via ducit, in urbem? O Lycida, vivi pervenimus, advena nostri (quod numquam veriti sumus) ut possessor agelli diceret: “Haec mea sunt; veteres migrate coloni!” nunc victi, tristes, quoniam Fors omnia versat, hos illi—quod nec vertat bene—mittimus haedos. Certe equidem audieram, qua se subducere colles incipiunt, mollique iugum demittere clivo, usque ad aquam et veteres (iam fracta cacumina) fagos omnia carminibus vestrum servasse Menalcan. Audieras, et fama fuit; sed carmina tantum nostra valent, Lycida, tela inter Martia, quantum
Chaonias dicunt aquila veniente columbas. quod nisi me quacumque novas incidere lites ante Sinistra cava monuisset ab ilice cornix, nec tuus hic Moeris, nec viveret ipse Menalcas. Heu, cadit in quemquam tantum scelus? Heu, tua nobis paene simul tecum solatia rapta, Menalca? quis caneret nymphas; quis humum florentibus herbis spargeret, aut viridi fontes induceret umbra? vel quae sublegi tacitus tibi carmina nuper, cum te ad delicias ferres, Amaryllida, nostras? Tityre, dum redeo—brevis est via—pasce capellas, et potum pastas age, Tityre, et inter agendum
occursare capro, cornu ferit ille, caveto. Immo haec, quae Varo necdum perfecta canebat: “Vare, tuum nomen, superet modo Mantua nobis— Mantua, vae miserae nimium vicina Cremonae— cantantes sublime ferent ad sidera cycni.” Sic tua Cyrneas fugiant examina taxos; sic cytiso pastae distendant ubera vaccae! Incipe, si quid habes: et me fecere poetam Pierides; sunt et mihi carmina; me quoque dicunt vatem pastores, sed non ego credulus illis. Nam neque adhuc Vario videor, nec dicere Cinna digna, sed argutos inter strepere anser olores.
Id quidem ago et tacitus, Lycida, mecum ipse voluto, si valeam meminisse; neque est ignobile carmen: `huc ades, O Galatea; quis est nam ludus in undis hic ver purpureum; varios hic flumina circum fundit humus flores; hic candida populus antro imminet, et lentae texunt umbracula vites. huc ades: insani feriant sine litora fluctus. Quid, quae te pura solum sub nocte canentem audieram? Numeros memini, si verba tenerem. “Daphni, quid antiquos signorum suspicis ortus? Ecce Dionaei processit Caesaris astrum, astrum, quo segetes gauderent frugibus, et quo
duceret apricis in collibus uva colorem. insere, Daphni, piros: carpent tua poma nepotes.” Omnia fert aetas, animum quoque: saepe ego longos cantando puerum memini me condere soles: nunc oblita mihi tot carmina; vox quoque Moerim iam fugit ipsa; lupi Moerim videre priores. Sed tamen ista satis referet tibi saepe Menalcas. Causando nostros in longum ducis amores: et nunc omne tibi stratum silet aequor, et omnes, aspice, ventosi ceciderunt murmuris aurae. hinc adeo media est nobis via; namque sepulcrum incipit adparere Bianoris: hic ubi densas
agricolae stringunt frondes, hic, Moeri, canamus; hic haedos depone: tamen veniemus in urbem. aut si, nox pluviam ne colligat ante, veremur, cantantes licet usque (minus via laedit) eamus; cantantes ut eamus, ego hoc te fasce levabo. Desine plura, puer, et quod nunc instat agamus: carmina tum melius, cum venerit ipse, canemus.
Section 10
Extremum hunc, Arethusa, mihi concede laborem: pauca meo Gallo, sed quae legat ipsa Lycoris, carmina sunt dicenda. neget quis carmina Gallo? sic tibi, cum fluctus subterlabere Sicanos, Doris amara suam non intermisceat undam. incipe; sollicitos Galli dicamus amores, dum tenera attondent simae virgulta capellae. non canimus surdis; respondent omnia silvae. Quae nemora, aut qui vos saltus habuere, puellae Naides, indigno cum Gallus amore peribat? nam neque Parnasi vobis iuga, nam neque Pindi ulla moram fecere, neque Aoniae Aganippe.
Illum etiam lauri, etiam flevere myricae. Pinifer illum etiam sola sub rupe iacentem Maenalus, et gelidi fleverunt saxa Lycaei. Stant et oves circum;—nostri nec poenitet illas, nec te poeniteat pecoris, divine poeta;— et formosus ovis ad flumina pavit Adonis; venit et upilio; tardi venere subulci; uvidus hiberna venit de glande Menalcas. Omnes “Unde amor iste” rogant “tibi?” Venit Apollo: “Galle, quid insanis?” inquit; “tua cura Lycoris perque nives alium perque horrida castra secuta est.” Venit et agresti capitis Silvanus honore,
florentis ferulas et grandia lilia quassans. Pan deus Arcadiae venit, quem vidimus ipsi sanguineis ebuli bacis minioque rubentem. “Ecquis erit modus?” inquit; “Amor non talia curat; nec lacrimis crudelis Amor, nec gramina rivis, nec cytiso saturantur apes, nec fronde capellae.” Tristis at ille: “Tamen cantabitis, Arcades,” inquit “montibus haec vestris: soli cantare periti Arcades. O mihi tum quam molliter ossa quiescant, vestra meos olim si fistula dicat amores! Atque utinam ex vobis unus, vestrique fuissem aut custos gregis, aut maturae vinitor uvae!
Certe, sive mihi Phillis, sive esset Amyntas, seu quicumque furor—quid tum, si fuscus Amyntas; et nigrae violae sunt et vaccinia nigra— mecum inter salices lenta sub vite iaceret; serta mihi Phyllis legeret, cantaret Amyntas. Hic gelidi fontes, hic mollia prata, Lycori, hic nemus; hic ipso tecum consumerer aevo. Nunc insanus amor duri me Martis in armis tela inter media atque adversos detinet hostes: tu procul a patria (nec sit mihi credere tantum!) Alpinas, ah dura, nives et frigora Rheni me sine sola vides: ah, te ne frigora laedant!
ah, tibi ne teneras glacies secet aspera plantas! Ibo, et, Chalcidico quae sunt mihi condita versu carmina, pastoris Siculi modulabor avena. certum est in silvis, inter spelaea ferarum malle pati, tenerisque meos incidere amores arboribus; crescent illae, crescetis, amores. Interea mixtis lustrabo Maenala nymphis, aut acris venabor apros: non me ulla vetabunt frigora Parthenios canibus circumdare saltus. iam mihi per rupes videor lucosque sonantis ire; libet Partho torquere Cydonia cornu spicula:—tamquam haec sit nostri medicina furoris,
ut deus ille malis hominum mitescere discat! Iam neque hamadryades rursus nec carmina nobis ipsa placent; ipsae rursus concedite silvae. non illum nostri possunt mutare labores, nec si frigoribus mediis Hebrumque bibamus, Sithoniasque nives hiemis subeamus aquosae, nec si, cum moriens alta liber aret in ulmo, Aethiopum versemus ovis sub sidere Cancri. omnia vincit Amor; et nos cedamus Amori.” Haec sat erit, divae, vestrum cecinisse poetam, dum sedet et gracili fiscellam texit hibisco, Pierides; vos haec facietis maxima Gallo—
Gallo, cuius amor tantum mihi crescit in horas, quantum vere novo viridis se subicit alnus. Surgamus; solet esse gravis cantantibus umbra; iuniperi gravis umbra; nocent et frugibus umbrae. Ite domum saturae, venit Hesperus, ite capellae.