CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF T. P. Crane ^■as ...r r....'J!IJil" " iransiaiea into English 3 1924 026 565 394 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026565394 THE ^ N E I D. THK ^NEID OF VIRGIL TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE JOHN CONINGTON, M.A., CORPUS PROFKSSOR OF LATIN IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD. NEW YORK A. C. ARMSTRONG AND SON 3 & 5 Whst iS'li Strkkt, meab s"" Avenue 1902 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by W. J, WIDDLETON, In the Clerk's Office of the Cistrict Court of the United States in ind for the Southern District of New York. ' f. C ^^' r\ ■-.•sji University Prbss: John Wilson and Son, Cambridgk. TO HENRY J. S. SMITH, M.A., F.R.S., SAVILIAK PROFESSOR OF GEOMETRY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, &C., &C. IN RECORD OF INTELLECTUAL SYMPATHIES AND COMMON TASTES WHICH DIFFERENCE OF PURSUITS HAS NOT BEEN ABLE TO IMPAIR. INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION The translation of the -^neid of Virgil by Pro fessor CoNiNGTON, here republished, has been universally admitted to be one of the most attrac- tive books of the last London season. It has gained this pre-eminence in its peculiar depart- ment, much cultivated of late in the labors of Lord Derby and others, by its novelty, the singu- lar felicity of its diction, its constant animation and great variety, united with consummate scholar- ship in its remarkable fidelity to the nicer shades of meaning in the original author. Hitherto the fame of Virgil to English readers has rested on the sonorous version of Dryden, which, like the Homer of Pope, it is safe to predict will always hold its high place in our literature. But the merit of these great authors is not always that of the originals whom they emulate ; and it has [ix] X INTRODUCTORr NOTE. long been felt that something more might be at- tained in new versions when the translator should bring to the work the modern fruits of matured learning and patient criticism, combined with the requisite poetical faculty. Homer has recently been the subject of various experiments of this nature, more or less successful ; while the great epic poet of Rome has, in this new awakening of English translation, been left to a single au- thor. Professor Conington has, by one bold step, at once gained the admiration of the critics, and charmed the wide, popular circle of English readers. To thousands, his delightful version, borne rapidly along in the lively cadences of the octosyllabic measure, familiarized to the ear by the poems of Scott and Byron, will be a new revelation of the ever-attractive pages of Virgil. Whatever may be thought of the metre by scholars, as the most appropriate for the genius of the ^neid, all concede the substantial triumph of the translator in the production of a poem of great beauty, which, while it may be read as if it were a new work of the day, reflects, with singu- lar accuracy, the various felicities of the original. It has drawn forth several elaborate articles from English critics in journals of high repute, com- menting upon it closely, and freely conceding its unusual merits. " The Examiner " pronounces INTRODUCTORT NOTE. xi it " the very lightest, liveliest, and yet most accu- rate translation of Virgil that has yet been added to our literature," and predicts that " it will be in large request at all the circulating libraries." " The Athenaeum " speaks of its " magic music," and says, " Being a faithful copy of the original, it has all the freshness, life, and beauty of genu- ine poetry. "The Saturday Review" places the book in the first rank, for its " critical and poeti- cal qualities ; " adding, " It will more than satisfy those who hold Virgil among the three or four greatest names of Roman literature." "Black- wood's Magazine," in a discriminating article,* noticing the various excellence of the poem, and comparing it with other attempts, finds the trans- lator justified by his "success in the choice of a metre offering many points of advantage, — rapidity, flexibility, pathos, and, above all, vari- ety ; the last, in a continuous poem, of no little consequence in attractiveness to the reader." "Eraser's Magazine," of the same month, also commenting at length on its high qualities, says, "The rendering is almost invariably life-like, flowing, and readable. Professor Conington's prolonged commentatorial study of Virgil has given him a freedom and power, in bringing out the meaning of his author, which has enabled * January, 1867. xii INTRODUCTORY NOTE. him, on the whole, to keep remarkably close to the original. ... A bright and pleasing poem in itself, his book will certainly do much to increase among the general public a right understanding and appreciation of the great Roman poet." The following particulars of the career of Professor Conington — exhibiting the cultivated scholarship, the literary training in authorship, and ripe experience which he brings to his work, — are taken from the last issue of that valuable London book of reference, "The Men of the Time:" — John Conington, Professor of Latin in the Univer- sity of Oxford, was born at Boston, Lincolnshire, Aug. lo, 1825. He is the eldest son of the late Rev. Richard Conington, incumbent for many years of a chapel-of-ease in that town, and Jane, daughter of Francis Thirkill, Esq., solicitor, also of Boston. He was educated chiefly at Rugby, under Dr. Arnold and Dr. Tait. He was successively Demy of Magdalen College, Oxford (July, 1843), Scholar of University College (March, 1846), and Fellow of University Col- lege (May, 1847), and obtained the Hertford and Ireland Scholarships in 1844. In March, 1848, he published " The Agamemnon of ^schylus : the Text, with a Translation into English Verse, and Notes " (J. W. Parker). In June, 1849, he entered as a student at Lincoln's Inn ; but afterwards withdrew his name, without having been called to the Bar. In 1850 he edited Dr. Maginn's "Homeric Ballads" (J. W, INTRODUCTORr NOTE. xm Parker) , contributing a short preface and some notes, besides various alterations and modifications of the ballads themselves. In 1852 he published a pamphlet entitled " Epistola Critica de quibusdam ^schyli, Sophoclis et Euripidis Fragmentis," addressed to Dr. Gaisford. In June, 1854, he was elected to the newly founded professorship of the Latin language and lit- erature, partially and afterwards wholly endowed by Corpus-Christi College. In 1855 he published an inaugural lecture " On the Academical Study of Latin " (J. W. Parker) ; and in 1857 " The Choephorce of ^schylus, with Notes" (J. W. Parker). In 1858 he published the first, and in 1863 the second, volume of " The Works of Virgil, with an English Commen- tary" (Bell and Daldy), to be completed in three volumes ; and in 1859, a small text of Virgil in the " Cambridge Greek and Latin Texts." In 1863 he also published " The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace, translated into English Verse" (Bell and Daldy). Professor Conington has also written various articles in the " Edinburgh Review " and other peri- odicals. The American publisher has added to the pres ent reprint the "Arguments," prefixed to each book, revised from the standard edition of Dryden. New York, February, 1867. PREFACE. The publication of a new translation of Virgil's ^neid is a thing which may not unreasonably be thought to require a few prefatory words of excuse. It is true that the ground has not been pre-occupied of late years by any version which has attained any great degree of popularity. Previous to the present century, the ex- tant translations of the .^neid outnumbered those of the Iliad and Odyssey in the proportion of nearly three to one : now, while the press is sending forth version after version of one or both of the Homeric poems, scarcely any one tliinks it worth his while to attempt a translation of the Roman epic. But it may fairly be doubted whether Dryden did not close the question a hundred and seventy years ago for any one not, like himself, a poet of commanding original power. In the century which succeeded him many literary men thought that they could improve upon him in various w^ays : but the verdict of posterity has shown that they judged wrongly. Pitt is the only one of these whose version can be said to be at present in existence : a dubious privilege which it owes to the fact of its having been included in the successive collections of English poetry of which Johnson's was the first rxv] xvi PREFACE. Dryden's style in poetry is sufficiently unlike that which finds most favor in the present day : but it can- not be said to be obsolete. And though in its minuter shades it affords rather a contrast than a parallel to Virgil's, they have at all events the common quality of being really poetical; that inner identity which far outweighs a thousand points of external similarity, supposing these to be attainable. Pope, writing ac- cording to his own genius, has produced something so utterly different, in all its circumstantial features, from the product of Homeric genius, that an artist of con- fessedly inferior powers need not be discouraged from attempting the task again : but there was no such radi- cal difference between the poet of Augustan Rome and the poet of Caroline England as to render it impossible that the masterpiece of the one should be adequately represented by the work which crowned the literary labors of the other. True as this doubtless is, it is perhaps nevertheless possible that a justification may be found for an attempt like the present. It may be said that the great works of antiquity require to be translated afresh from time to time in order to preserve their interest as part of modern literary culture. Each age will naturally think that it understands an author whom it studies better than the ages which have gone before it : and it is nat- ural that this increased appreciation should take the concrete form of a new translation. The translation, if in any degree successful, will contribute in its turn to extend and deepen the appreciation. It is not merely that different passages will be better understood as criticism advances, though that is something : it is that the work itself is better comprehended as a literary PR£:FACE. xvii work ; that the poet's art is more fully realized, aa shown in the thousand minutiae which make the poem what it is. A translation, as I have elsewhere remarked, may have as a piece of embodied criticism a value which it would not possess in virtue of its intrinsic merit. Again, there is something in the mere fact of novelty ; something in disturbing the cluster of con- ventional associations which gathers round an author, and compelling the reader to regard what he has hith- erto admired traditionally from a new point of view. It is well that we should know how our ancestors of the Revolution period conceived of Virgil : it is well that we should be obliged consciously to realize how we conceive of him ourselves. Some may think that the metre I have chosen pos- sesses few recommendations beyond the novelty of which I have just spoken. I certainly do not pretend that it is the one true equivalent of the Virgilian hex- ameter. Probably a better case could be made out for both heroic blank verse and the heroic couplet: the ottava rima of Tasso also, as has been suggested to me, might put in a claim, not of course as giving the effect of particular lines, but as representing the impression made by the whole. But the question is not so much what is absolutely best as what is best for the individual translator. Blank verse really deserving the name I believe with my lamented friend Mr. Worsley to be impossible except to one or two eminent writers in a generation. The heroic couplet would be difficult to wield to any one who was constantly reminded that he was exposing himself thereby to a comparison with Dryden. A regular stanza has trammels which would be more sensibly felt in attempting to deal with Virgil'! xviii PREFACE. elaborately complicated paragraphs, than in endeavor- ing to reproduce the less highly organized structure of Homer's narrative. My chief reason for adopting the metre which Scott has made popular was that it seemed to give me my best chance of imparting to my work that rapidity of movement which is indispensa- bly necessary to a long narrative poem. An ode of Horace is something to dwell on, to scrutinize min- utely : a poem like the yEneid is something to read rapidly and continuously. A metre which gives the translator the hope of making his work interesting as a story is so far successful : a metre which does not give this hope fails. Marmion has been read by mul- titudes who would find the perusal of the Paradise Lost too severe an undertaking : and there can be little doubt that Scott would have done unwisely had he tried to produce a Miltonic poem. It is true of course that if Homer's heroes are, as my friend Mr. Arnold so strongly contends, not mosstroopers, Virgil's have still less of the Border character ; but it is better to run the risk of importing a few unseasonable associations than to sacrifice the living character of the narrative by making it stiff" and cumbrous. Apart from associations, I believe that the metre of Marmion and the Lord of the Isles is one that possesses high capabilities, even for a translation of Virgil. It is not without dignity ; it has lyrical tones which lend themselves well to occa- sions of pathos. Its variety enables it, by a change of measure, to mark those transitions of feeling which no poet exhibits more frequently than the author of the ..^Eneid. No doubt it is the part of a great artist ta do as Virgil has done, and draw out all varieties of expression from one and the same instrument : but to PREFACE. XIX most of those who engage in the work of translation it cannot but be an advantage to employ a measure which is really several measures in one. I will only venture to say that in more than one passage, where I have myself been habitually most affected by the cadence of the Latin, I have seemed to myself, rightly or wrongly, to have been able to produce something of a corre- sponding effect by in one way or another varying the measure. While wishing under all the circumstances to guard carefully against anything like a servile imitation of Scott, I have yet regarded him as my master rather than Byron. Unlike as the spirit of Border warfare may be to the spirit of the ^neid, the spirit of Oriental passion is still more unlike. Even the ballad-like peculiarities of Scott have some similarity to the epic common-place which Virgil felt himself obliged by the laws of his work to borrow from Homer. It must be remembered too that Scott's poems, in respect of style, differ not a little from each other. The style of the Lay is comparatively rude and unpolished : the style of the Lord of the Isles is comparatively cultivated and elaborate. I need not say that it is the latter type that I have made my model rather than the former. I tiave sedulously eschewed what Mr. Arnold calls the ballad slang, even where it offered itself without the seeking: such expressions as " out and spoke," " well I wot," " all on Parnassus' slope," I have left where I found them. I have not indeed denied myself an occasional archaism, any more than Virgil himself has done, as I cannot see that "mote" for " might" and " eyne " for " eyes" are more objectionable than " faxo " for " fecero " and " aulai " for " aulas." But I have excluded all such primitive peculiarities as seemed in- XX PREFACE. consistent with high finish, expletives like " did say and " did sue," and inversions like " soon as the wild- ered child savsr he." In the versification I have avoided, virith scarce a single exception, that tripping anapaestic movement which deprives the Lay of dignity, and makes Harold the Dauntless read like a burlesque: where I have introduced a redundant syllable into a line, it has generally been in the case of polysyllables, by the use of which I hoped to give the line of eight syllables something of the stateliness of the heroic. Once and once only have I ventured on a double rhyme. These details are sufficiently trifling ; and I mention them merely to show that in appropriating a measure of considerable laxity to a heroic subject I have been more anxious to curtail than to extend the freedom I have gained. It would be vain to deny that during the progress of the translation I have often been made sensible of the profound difference between poetry like Scott's, which, with all its antiquarianism, is still modern, and poetry like Virgil's, which, with all its modern affinities, is still ancient. An ancient narrative is minute where a modem one is brief: it is brief where a modern one is diffuse. Virgil is full of details, but always rapid : the reader is carried past a number of objects in succession, without being allowed, except on very rare occasions, to pause at any. Scott too is rapid after his fashion : but it is the rapidity of one who loves motion for its own sake, and to whom time is of no particular value : after a gallop of a few miles he is glad to pull up and descant on anything that he may be passing on the road side. Even the constant recurrence of " sic ait," « talia voce refert," and the like, after every speech in PREFACE. XXI the ^neid, which of course it would be unjustifiable not to represent in a translation, is enough to remind the translator that the taste of the readers for whom Virgil wrote is different from the taste of those whom he must himself endeavor to please. No doubt this disparity between the ancient and the modern manner would have made itself felt had I chosen a metre less connected by association with the present century. Even Dryden, though his manner is far less distinctive- ly modern than that of Scott, surprises us from time to time with something which we feel he would not have said had he not been translating : even Pope, though he has taken almost unlimited license to omit or recast anything which did not suit his notions of good taste in narrative, makes us occasionally sensible that the story he is telling is not his own. But I have some- times thought that the style which I had adopted im- posed on me difficulties peculiar to itself, from which a more judicious choice might have preserved me. Virgil was a more carefiil composer than Scott or Byron, not only in the selection of his words, but in the structure of his sentences. He was a great rhetori- cian, and a master of that terse pointed style of which the Latinity of the silver age is a development and an exaggeration. Sentences occur repeatedly in his writ- ings which require to be rendered as briefly and com- pactly as those of Horace. Whether the octosyllabic metre is congenial to that mode of writing I will not presume to say : but it has not yet been applied to it, except, it may be, by writers like Gay, whose style is confessedly too low for heroic poetry. Consequently, I have frequently had to write in a manner which I was conscious was not the manner of my model, at- xxu PRE FA C E, tempting to impart to the shorter couplet some of that dignified sententiousness which belongs more properly to the longer. If I have failed in this, I can only ex- cuse myself by pleading the necessity of choosing among difficulties which appears to be the inevitable condition of the translator's work. Perhaps I may be judged to have some advantage over my rhyming predecessors in respect of closeness to the original. It would be discreditable to me if the minute study which it has been my duty and my plea- sure to give to every line, I might almost say every word, of my author in the prosecution of my comment- ary did not reflect itself to some degree in the transla- tion. It is even possible that a casual reader may overlook many instances of close rendering ; that he may suppose various forms of expression to be gratui- rous which have been really adopted in order to bring put more fully the force, as I conceive it, of the Latin. The chai'acteristic art of Virgil's language, I must own, is a thing which I have made no attempt to represent. Whether that peculiar habit which I have mentioned elsewhere as common to him and to Sophocles, the habit of hinting at two or three modes of expression while actually employing one, is capable of being transferred into English, I do not know: certainly none of his translators has effected the transferrence. It is obvious that the experiment is one to perform which would require the utmost nicety : everything would depend on the exact poetical equivalence of the various turns of phrase, either severally or as presented in combination : and a shade more or less in each case might produce not beauty but deformity. Such felici- ties, in fact, though well worthy of critical iovestiga- PREFACE. xxiii tion, are hardly to be discovered by critical search : while the translator was seeking them, any spirit that there might be in his verses would be apt to evaporate. It is only one to whom they would suggest themselves naturally, in conformity I mean with his natural genius, who would be able to employ them in transla- tion without injury to the character of his work : and he must be another Virgil or another Sophocles. A translator not so constituted will be better employed in endeavoring to bring about resemblance to his author by applying a principle of compensation, by strengthening his version in any way best suited to his powers, so long as it be not repugnant to the genius of the original, and trusting that the effect of the whole will be seen to have been cared for, though the claims of the parts may appear to have been neglected. Even the simpler peculiarities of Virgil's style, such as his fondness for saying the same thing twice over in the same line, I have not always been at pains to copy. What is graceful in the Latin will not always be graceful in a translation : and to be graceful is one of the first duties of a translator of the ^neid. It has often happened that by ignoring a repetition I have been able to include the entire sense of a hexameter in a single English line of eight syllables ; and in such cases I have been glad to make the sacrifice. Not the least of the evils of the measure I have chosen is a tendency to difluseness : and in translating one of the least diffuse of poets such a tendency requires a strong remedy. Accordingly, the duty of conciseness has always been present to my mind ; and the result is that my translation, with its lines of eight and occasionally six syllables, does not, I hope, exceed by much more xxiv PREFACE. than one half the number of lines in the original, where fifteen syllables on the average go to the hexa- meter. A similarity will occasionally be found between my own and other versions. In the few cases where this arises from intentional appropriation, or where I had reason to think that I had unconsciously recollected the words of others, I have made the requisite acknowledgment in the notes. Possibly in other instances also there may have been unconscious recol- lections, as a comparison of the three rhyming trans- lators, Dryden, Pitt, and. Symmons, used to be a favorite occupation of my schoolboy days. My coin- cidences, I believe, are oftener with Pitt's version than with either of the others ; a fact which I incline to at- tribute to the more conventional character of his verses, which are seldom so individual that they might not easily occur to two writers independently. My knowl- edge of the different blank verse translations is very slight and occasional. I have not thought it necessary to say anything in the notes of the renderings that I have adopted, as what I have to urge in their favor will be found elsewhere. In one or two instances I have ruled a disputed question in one way as a com- mentator, in another way as a translator, but only of course where a case could fairly be made out for either view. BOOK I ARGUMENT. • The Trojans, after a seven-years' voyage, set sail foi Italy, but are overtaken by a dreadful storm, which ^olus raises at Juno's request. The tempest sinks one vessel, and scatters the rest ; Neptune drives off the winds, and calms the sea. ^neas, with his own ship and six more, arrives safe at an African port. Venus complains to Jupiter of her son's misfortunes. Jupiter comforts her, and sends Mer- cury to procure him a kind reception among the Cartha- ginians. .^Eneas, going out to discover the .country, meets his mother in the shape of a huntress, who conveys him in a cloud to Carthage, where he sees his friends whom he thought lost, and receives a kind entertainment from the queen. Dido, by a device of Venus, begins to have a pas- sion for him, and, after some discourse with him, desires the history of his' adventures since the siege of Troy, which is the subject of the two following books. THE ^NEID. BOOK I. Arms and the man I sing, who first, By Fate of Ilian realm amerced, To fair Italia onward bore, And landed on Lavinium's shore : — Long tossing earth and ocean o'er. By violence of heaven, to sate Fell Juno's unforgetting hate : Much labored too in battle-field, Striving his city's walls to build, And give his Gods a home : Thence come the hardy Latin brood. The ancient sires of Alba's blood, And lofty-rampired Rome. Say, Muse, for godhead how disdained, Or wherefore wroth, Heaven's queen constrained That soul of piety so long To turn the wheel, to cope with wrong. Can heavenly natures nourish hate So fierce, so blindly passionate ? There stood a city on the sea Manned by a Tyrian colony. Named Carthage, fronting far to south Italia's coast and Tiber's mouth. Rich in all wealth, all means of rule, And hardened in war's sternest school. 4 THE y^NEID. Men say the place was Juno's pride More than all lands on earth beside ; E'en Samos' self not half so dear : Here were her arms, her chariot here • Here, goddess-like, to fix one day The seat of universal sway. Might Fate be wrung to yield assent, E'en then her schemes, her cares were bent. Yet had she heard that sons of Troy Were born her Carthage to destroy ; From those majestic loins should spring A nation like a warrior king. Ordained for Libya's overthrow : The web of Fate was woven so. This was her fear : and fear renewed The memory of that earlier feud, The war at Troy she erst had waged In darling Argos' cause engaged : Nor yet had faded from her view The insults whence those angers grew, Deep in remembrance lives engrained The judgment which her charms disdained. The offspring of adulterous seed, The rape of minion Ganymede : With such resentments brimming o'er She tossed and tossed from shore to shore The Trojan bands, poor relics these Of Achillean victories. Away from Latium : many a year, Fate-driven, they wandered far and near : So vast the labor to create The fabric of the Roman state I Scarce out of sight of Sicily Troy's crews were spreading sail to sea, Pleased o'er the foam to run, BOOK I. When Juno, feeding ever more The vulture at her bosom's core, Thus to herself begun : " I to give way? has Juno willed, And must her will be unfulfilled ? Too weak from Latium's coast to fling Back to the sea this Trojan king? Restrained by Fate ? Could Pallas fire The Argive fleet to wreak her ire, And drown the crews, for one offence, Mad Ajax' curst incontinence ? She from the clouds Jove's lightning cast, Dispersed the ships, the billows massed, Caught the scathed wretch, whose breast exhaled Fierce flames, and on a rock impaled : I who through heaven its mistress move, The sister and the wife of Jove, With one poor tribe of earth contend Long years revolving without end. Will any Juno's power adore Henceforth, or crown her altars more ? " Such fiery tumult in her mind, She seeks the birthplace of the wind, ^olia, realm for ever rife With turbid elemental life : Here yEolus in a cavern vast With bolt and barrier fetters fast Rebellious storm and howling blast. They with the rock's reverberant roar Chafe blustering round their prison-door : He, throned on high, the sceptre sways, Controls their moods, their wrath allays. Bleak but that sceptre, sea and land And heaven's etherial deep 6 THM .^NBID. Before them they would whirl like sand, And through the void air sweep. But the great Sire, with prescient fear, Had whelmed them deep in dungeon drear, And o'er the struggling captives thrown Huge masses of primeval stone. Ruled by a monarch who might know To curb them or to let them go : Whom now as suppliant at his knees Juno bespoke in words like these. " O ,(^olus ! since the Sire of all Has made the wind obey thy call To raise or lay the foam, A race I hate now ploughs the sea, Transporting Troy to Italy And home-gods reft of home : Lash thou thy winds, their ships submerge, Or toss them weltering o'er the surge. Twice seven bright nymphs attend on me, The fairest of them Deiope : Her will I give thee for thine own. The paitner of thy heart and throne, With thee to pass unending days And goodly children round thee raise." The God replies : " O Queen, 'tis thine To weigh thy will, to do it mine. Thou givest me this poor kingdom, thou Hast smoothed for me the Thunderer's brow Givest me to share the Olympian board. And o'er the tempests makest me lord." He said, and with his spear struck wide The portals in the mountain side : At once, like soldiers in a band. Forth rush the winds, and scour the land : BOOK I. Then lighting heavily on the main, East, South, and West with storms in train, Heave from its depth the watery floor, And roll great billows to the shore. Then come the clamor and the shriek. The sailors shout, the main-ropes creak : All in a moment sun and skies Are blotted from the Trojans' eyes : Black night is brooding o'er the deep, Sharp thunder peals, live lightnings leap : The stoutest warrior holds his breath, And looks as on the face of death. At once yEneas thrilled with dread ; Forth from his breast, with hands outspread, These groaning words he drew : " O happy, thrice and yet again, Who died at Troy like valiant men, E'en in their parents' view ! O Diomed, first of Greeks in fray. Why pressed I not the plain that day, Yielding my life to you. Where stretched beneath a Phrygian sky Fierce Hector, tall Sarpedon lie : Where Simois tumbles 'neath his wave Shields, helms, and bodies of the brave?" Now, howling from the north, the gale, While thus he moans him, strikes his sail : The swelling surges climb the sky ; The shattered oars in splinters fly ; The prow turns round, and to the tide Lays broad and bare the vessel's side ; On comes a billow, mountain-steep. Bears down, and tumbles in a heap. These stagger on the billov/s crest ; Tliose to the yawning depth deprest 8 THE yENEID. See land appearing 'mid the waves, Whiile surf with sand in turmoil raves. Three ships the South has caught and thrown On scarce hid rocks, as Altars known, Ridging the main, a reef of stone. Three more fierce Eurus from the deep, A sight to make the gazer weep, Drives on the shoals, and banks them round With sand, as with a rampire-mound. One, which erewhile from Lycia's shore Orontes and his people bore, E'en in yEneas' anguished sight A sea down crashing from tlie height Strikes full astern : the pilot, torn From off the helm, is headlong borne : Three turns the foundered vessel gave, Then sank beneath the engulfing wave. There in the vast abyss are seen The swimmers, few and far between. And warriors' arms and shattered wood, And Trojan treasures strew the flood. And now Ilioneus, and now Aletes old and grey. Abas and brave Achates bow Beneath the tempest's sway ; Fast drinking in through timbers loose At every pore the fatal ooze. Their sturdy barks give way. Meantime the turmoil of the main, The tempest loosened from, its chain, The waters of the nether deep Upstarting from their tranquil sleep, On Neptune broke : disturbed he hears And quickened by a monarch's fears, His calm broad brow o'er ocean rears. BOOK I. Eneas' fleet he sees dispersed, Whelmed by fierce wave and stormy burst Nor failed a brother's eye to read Junonian rancor in the deed. Forthwith he summoned East and West, And thus his kingly wrath expressed : — " How now? presume ye on your birth To blend in chaos skies and earth. And billowy mountains heavenward heave, Bold Winds, without my sovereign leave ? Whom I — but rather were it good To pacify yon troubled flood. Offend once more, and ye shall pay Upon a heavier reckoning day. Back to your master instant flee, And tell him, not to him but me The imperial trident of the sea Fell by the lot's award : His is that prison-house of stone, A mansion, Eurus, all your own : There let him lord it to his mind, The jailor-monarch of the wind, But keep its portal barred." He said, and, ere his words were done, Allays the surge, brings back the sun : Triton and swift Cymothoe drag The ships from off" the pointed crag : He, trident-armed, each dull weight heaves, Through the vast shoals a passage cleaves, Makes smooth the ruffled wave, and rides Calm o'er the surface of the tides. As when sedition oft has stirred In some great town the vulgar herd. And brands and stones already fly — For rage has weapons always nigh — lo THE .^NEID. Then should some man of worth appear Whose stainless virtue all revere, They hush, they list : his clear voice rules Their rebel wills, their anger cools : So ocean ceased at once to rave, Wlien, calmly looking o'er the wave, Girt with a range of azure sky, The father bids his chariot fly. The tempest-tossed yEneadse Strain for the nearest land, And turn their vessels from the sea To Libya's welcome strand. Deep in a bay an island makes A haven by its jutting sides. Whereon each wave from ocean breaks. And parting into hollows glides. High o'er the cove vast rocks extend, A beetling cliff at either end : Beneath their summit far and wide In sheltered silence sleeps the tide, While quivering forests crown the scene, A theatre of glancing green. In front, retiring from the wave. Opes on the view a rock-hung cave, A home that nymphs might call their own, Fresh springs, and seats of living stone : No need of rope or anchor's bite To hold the weary vessel tight. Such haven now ^neas gains. With seven lorn ships, the scant remains Of what was once his fleet ; Forth leaped the Trojans on the sand. Lay down their brine-drenched limbs on land, And feel the shore is sweet. B OOK I. 1 1 And first from flints together clashed The latent spark Achates flashed, Caught in sere leaves, and defl:ly nursed Till into flame the fuel burst. Then from the hold the crews o'ertoiled Bring out their grain by ocean spoiled, And gird themselves with fire and quern To parch and grind the rescued corn. Meanwhile ^neas scales a height And sweeps the ocean with his sight ; Might he perchance a Capys mark. An Antheus in his Phrygian bark. Or trace the arms that wont to deck Caicus in some laboring wreck. No vessel seaward meets his eyes. But on the shore three stags he spies, Close followed by a meaner throng That grazed the winding coasts along. He catches from Achates' hand Quiver and bow, and takes his stand ; And first the lordly leaders fall With tree-like antlers branching tall ; Then, turning on the multitude, He drives them routed through the wood, Nor stays till his victorious bow Has laid seven goodly bodies low, For his seven ships ; then portward fares. And 'mid his crews the quarry shares ; The wine which late their princely host. What time they left Trinacria's coast. Bestowed in casks, and freely gave, A brave man's bounty to the brave. With like equality he parts. And comforts their desponding hearts ; 12 THE .^NEID. " Comrades and friends ! for ours is strength Has brooked the test of woes ; O worse-scarred hearts ! these wounds at length The Gods will heal, like those. You that have seen grim Scylla rave, And heard her monsters yell. You that have looked upon the cave Where savage Cyclops dwell, Come, cheer your souls, your fears forget ; This suffering will yield us yet A pleasant tale to tell. Through chance, through peril lies our way To Latium, where the fates display A mansion of abiding stay : There Troy her fallen realm shall raise : Bear up, and live for happier days." Such were his words : on brow and tongue Sat hope, while grief his spirit wrung. They for their dainty food prepare. Strip off the hide, the carcase bare. Divide and spit the quivering meat. Dispose the fire, the caldrons heat. Then, stretched on turf, their frames refresh With generous wine and wild deer's flesh. And now, when hunger's rage was ceased, And checked the impatience of the feast, In long discourse they strive to track And bring their missing comrades back, Hope bandies questions with despair, If yet they breathe the upper air, Or down in final durance lie. Deaf to their friends' invoking cry. But chief ^neas fondly yearns, And racks his heart for each by turns. BOOK I. I? Now weeping o'er Orontes' grave, Now claiming Lycus from the wave, Brave Gyas, and Cloanthus brave. And now an end had come, when Jove. His broad view casting from above. The countries and tlieir people scanned, 7'he sail-jfledged sea, the lowly land, Last on the summit of the sky Paused, and on Libya fixed his eye. 'Twas then sad Venus, as he mused, Her starry eyes with tears suffused. Bespoke him : " Thou whose lightnings awe, Whose will on heaven and earth is law, What has ^neas done, or how Could my poor Trojans cloud thy brow. To suffer as they suffer now ? So many deaths the race has died : And now behold them, lest one day To Italy they win their way. Barred from all lands beside ! Once didst thou promise with an oath The Romans hence should have their growth, Great chiefs, from Teucer's line renewed. The masters of a world subdued : Fate heard the pledge : what power has wrought To turn the channel of thy thought? That promise ofit consoled my woe For Ilium's piteous overthrow. While I could balance, weight with weight, The prosperous with the adverse fate. But now the self-same fortune hounds The lorn survivors yet : And hast thou, mighty King, no bounds To that their misery set? 14 THE .^NEID. Antenor from the Greeks could scape, Mid Hadria's deep recesses shape His dangerous journey, and surmount The perils of Timavus' fount. Where with the limestone's reboant roar Through nine loud mouths the sea-waves pou And all the fields are deluged o'er : Yet here he built Patavium's town, His nation named, his arms laid down. Now rests in honor and renown : We, thine own race, on whom thy word Olympian glories has conferred. Our vessels lost, O shame untold ! Are traitorously bought and sold, Still from Italia kept apart To pacify one jealous heart. Lo ! piety with honor graced, A monarch on his throne replaced ! " With that refulgence in his eye Which soothes the humors of the sk}' Jove on his daughter's lips impressed A gracious kiss, then thus addressed : " Queen of Cythera ! spare thy pain : Thy children's fates unmoved remain : Thine eyes shall have their pledged desire And see Lavinium's walls aspire : Thine arms at length shall bear on high To bright possession in the sky .^neas the high-souled : nor aught Has turned the channel of my thought. He — for I now will speak thee sooth, Vexed as thou art by sorrow's tooth, Will ope the volume and relate The far-off oracles of Fate — Fierce war in Italy shall wage. Shall quell her peoples' patriot rage, BOOK I. IS And g^ve his veterans, worn with strife, A city and a peaceful life, Till summers three have seen him reign. Three winters crowned the dire campaign. But he, the father's darling child, Ascanms, now lulus styled (Ilus the name the infant bore Ere Ilium's sky was clouded o'er). Shall thirty years of power complete, Then from Lavinium's royal seat Transfer the empire, and make strong The walls of Alba named the Long. Three hundred years in that proud town Shall Hector's children wear the crown, Till Ilia, priestess-princess bear By Mars' embrace a kingly pair. Then, w^ith his nurse's wolf-skin girt. Shall Romulus the line assert, Invite them to his new raised home, And call the martial city Rome. No date, no goal, I here ordain : Theirs is an endless, boundless reign. Nay Juno's self, whose wild alarms Set ocean, earth, and heaven in arms, Shall change for smiles her moody frown, And vie with me in zeal to crown Rome's sons, the nation of the gown. So stands my will. There comes a day, While Rome's great ages hold their way, When old Assaracus's sons Shall quit them on the Myrmidons, O'er Phthia and Mycenae reign. And humble Argos to their chain. From Troy's fair stock shall Caasar rise. The limits of whose victories Are ocean, of his fame the skies ; 1 6 THE .^NEID. Great Julius, proud that style to bear, In name and blood lulus' heir. Him, at the appointed time, increased With plunder from the conquered East, Thine arms shall welcome to the sky, And worshippers shall find him nigh. Then battles o'er the world shall cease, Harsh times shall mellow into peace : Then Vesta, Faith, Quirinus, joined With brother Remus, rule mankind : Grim iron bolt and massy bar Shall close the dreadful gates of War : Within unnatural Rage confined, Fast bound with manacles behind, His dark head pillowed on a heap Or clanking armor, not in sleep, Shall gnash his savage teeth, and roar From lips incarnadined with gore." He said, and hastes from heaven to send The son of Mala down ; Bids Carthage open to befriend The Teucrians, realm and town. Lest Dido, ignorant of fate, Should drive the wanderers from her gate. Swift Mercury cuts with feathered oar The sky, and lights on Libya's shore. At once he does the Sire's behest. Each Tyrian smooths his rugged breast. And chief the queen has thoughts of grace And pity to the Teucrian race. But good ^neas, through the night Revolving many a care, Determines with the dawn of light Forth from the port to fare. B O O K I. I Explore the stranger clime, and find What land is his, by stress of wind, By what inhabitants possessed (For waste he sees it), man or beast, And back the tidings bear. Within a hollow rock's retreat, Deep in the wood, he hides his fleet, Defended by a leafy screen Of forestry and quivering green : Then with Achates moves along. Wielding two spears, steel-tipped and strong : When in the bosom of the wood Before him, lo, his mother stood, In mien and gear a Spartan maid, Or like Harpalyce arrayed, Who tires fleet coursers in the chase. And heads the swiftest streams of Thrace. Slung from her shoulders hangs a bow ; Loose to the wind her tresses flow ; Bare was her knee ; her mantle's fold The gathering of a knot controlled. And " Saw ye, youths," she asks them, " say, One of my sisters here astray, A silver quiver at her side. And for a scarf a lynx's hide, Or pressing on the wild boar's track With upraised dart and voiceful pack ? " Thus Venus : Venus' son replied : " No sister we of thine have spied : What name to call thee, beauteous maid ? That look, that voice the God betrayed j Can it be Phoebus' sister bright. Or some fair Nymph, has crossed our sight ? Be gracious, whosoe'er thou art, And lift this burden from our heart ; / i8 THE ySNE2D. Instruct us, 'neath what sky at last, Upon what shore, our lot is cast ; We wander here, by tempest blown, The people and the place unknown. O say ! and many a victim's life Before thy shrine shall stain my knife." Then Venus : " Nay, I would not claim A goddess' venerable name : The quiver and the buskin's braid But designate a Tyrian maid. The Punic state is this you see, Agenor's Tyrian colony : But all around the Libyans dwell, A race in war untamed and fell. The sceptre here queen Dido sways. Who fled from Tyre in other days, To 'scape a brother's frenzy : long And dark the story of her wrong ; To thread each tangle time would fail, So learn the summits of the tale. Sychaus was her husband once, The wealthiest of Phoenicia's sons : She loved him ; nor her sire denied. But made her his, a virgin bride. But soon there filled the ruler's place Her brother, worst of human race, Pygmalion : 'twixt the kinsmen came Fierce hatred, like a withering flame. With avarice blind, by stealthy blow The monster laid Sychaeus low, E'en at the altar, recking nought What passion in his sister wrought : Long time he hid the foul offence, And, feigning many a base pretence, Beguiled her love-sick innocence- B OOK I. 19 But, as she slept, before her eyes She saw in pallid ghastly guise Her lord's unburied semblance rise ; The murderous altar he revealed, The death-wound, gaping and unhealed, And all the crime the house concealed : Then bids her fly without delay. And shows, to aid her on her way, His buried treasures, stores untold Of silver and of massy gold. She heard, and quickened by affright, Provides her friends and means of flight. Each malcontent her summons hears. Who hates the tyrant, or who fears ; The ships that in the haven rode They seize, and with the treasures load : Pygmalion's stores o'er ocean speed. And woman's daring wrought the deed. The spot they reached where now your eyes See Carthage-towers in beauty rise : There bought them soil, such space of ground As one bull's hide could compass round ; There fixed their site ; and Byrsa's name Preserves the action fresh in fame. But who are you ? to whom allied ? Whence bound and whither ? " Deep he sighed,. And thus with laboring speech replied : " Fair Goddess ! should thy suppliants show From first to last their tale of woe. Or ere it ceased the day were done. And closed the palace of the sun. We from old Troy, if Tyrian ear Have chanced the name of Troy to hear, Driven o'er all seas, are thrown at last On Libya's coast by chance-sent blast 20 j[HB u^NBin. ^neas I, who bear on board My home-gods, rescued from the sword : Men call me good ; and vulgar fame Above the stars exalts my name. My quest is Italy, the place That nursed my Jove-descended race. My ships were twenty when I gave My fortunes to the Phrygian wave ; My goddess-mother lent me light, And oracles prescribed my flight : And now scarce seven survive the strain Of boisterous wind and billowy main. I wander o'er your Libyan waste, From Europe and from Asia chased, Unfriended and unknown." No more His plaint of anguish Venus bore, But interrupts ere yet 'tis o'er : " Whoe'er you are, I cannot deem Unloved of heaven you drink the beam Of sunlight ; else had never Fate Conveyed you to a Tyrian's gate. Take heart and follow on the road, Still making for the queen's abode. You yet shall witness, mark my word, Your friends returned, your fleet restored ; The winds are changed, and all are brought To port, or augury is naught. And vain the lore my parents taught. Mark those twelve swans, that hold their way In seemly jubilant array. Whom late, down swooping from on high, Jove's eagle scattered through the sky : Now see them o'er the land extend Or hover, ready to descend : They, rallying, sport on noisy wing. And circle round the heaven, and sing : BOOK I. 21 E'en so your ships, your martial train, Have gained the port, or stand to gain. Then pause not further, but proceed Still following where the road shall lead." She turned, and flashed upon their view Her stately neck's purpureal hue ; Ambrosial tresses round her head A more than earthly fragrance shed : Her falling robe her footprints swept. And showed the goddess as she stept ; While he, at length his motlier known, Pursues her with complaining tone : " And art tliou cruel like the rest ? Why cheat so oft thy son's fond eyes ? Why cannot hand in hand be pressed, And speech exchanged without disguise?" So ring the words of fond regret While toward the town his face is set. But Venus either traveller shrouds With thickest panoply of clouds. That none may see them, touch, nor stay, Nor, idly asking, breed delay. She through the sky to Paphos moves. And seeks the temple of her loves, Where from a hundred altars rise Rich steam and flowerets' odorous sighs. Meantime, the path itself their clue. With speed their journey they pursue ; And now they climb the hill, whose frow» On the tall towers looks lowering down, And beetles o'er the fronting town, .^neas marvelling views the pile Of stately structures, huts erewhile, 22 THE .^NEID. Mai-velling, the lofty gate surveys, The pavements, and the loud highways. On press the Tyrians, each and all : Some raise aloft the city's wall. Or at the fortress' base of rock Toil, heaving up the granite block : While some for dwellings mark the ground, Select a site and trench it round. Or choose the rulers and the law. And the young senate clothed with awe. They hollow out the haven : they The theatre's foundations lay. And fashion from the quarry's side Tall columns, germs of scenic pride. So bees, when spring-time is begun, Ply their warm labor in the sun, What time along the flowery mead Their nation's infant hope they lead ; Or with clear honey charge each cell, And make the hive with sweetness swell, The workers of their loads relieve. Or chase the drones, that gorge and thieve : With toil the busy scene ferments. And fragrance breathes from thymy scents. " O happy they," ^neas cries. As to the roofs he lifts his eyes, " Whose promised walls already rise ! " Then enters, 'neath his misty screen. And threads the crowd, of all unseen. Midway within the city stood A spreading grove of hallowed wood, The spot where first the Punic train. Fresh from the shock of storm and main, The token Juno had foretold Dug up, the head of charger bold ; BO OK I. 23 Sign of a nation formed for strife And bom to years of plenteous life. A temple there began to tower To Juno, rich with many a dower Of human wealth and heavenly power, The oblation of the queen : Brass was the threshold of the gate. The posts were sheathed with brazen plate, And brass the valves between. First in that spot once more appears A sight to soothe the traveller's fears, Illumes with hope Eneas' eye. And bids him trust his destiny. As, waiting for the queen, he gazed Around the fane with eyes upraised, Much marvelling at a lot so blessed, At art by rival hands expressed, And labor's mastery confessed, O wonder ! there is Ilium's war. And all those battles blazed afar : Here stands Atrides, Priam here, And chafed Achilles, either's fear. He starts : the tears rain fast and hot : And " Is there, friend," he cries, " a spot That knows not Troy's unhappy lot? See Priam ! aye, praise waits on worth E'en in this corner of the earth ; E'en here the tear of pity springs, And hearts are touched by human things. Dismiss your fear : we sure may claim To find some safety in our fame." He said ; and feeds his hungry heart With shapes of unsubstantial art, In fond remembrance groaning deep, While briny floods his visage steep. 24 THE .^NEID. There spreads and broadens on his sight The portraiture of Greece in flight, Pressed by the Trojan youth ; while here Troy flies, Achilles in her rear. Not far removed with tears he knows The tents of Rhesus, white as snows, Through which, by sleep's first breath betrayed, Tydides makes his murderous raid. And camp-ward drives the fiery brood Of coursers, ere on Trojan food They browse, or drink of Xanthus' flood. Here Troilus, shield and lance let go, Poor youth, Achilles' ill-matched foe, Fallen backward from the chariot seat, Whirls on, yet clinging by his feet. Still grasps the reins : his hair, his neck Trail o'er the ground in helpless wreck, And the loose spear he wont to wield Makes dusty scoring on the field. Meantime to partial Pallas' fane Moved with slow steps a matron train, With smitten breasts, dishevelled, pale, Beseechingly they bore the veil : She motionless as stone remained. Her cruel eyes to earth enchained. Thrice, to Achilles' chariot bound, Had Hector circled Ilium round, And now the satiate victor sold His mangled enemy for gold. Deep groaned the gazer to survey The spoils, the arms, the lifeless clay, And Priam, with weak hands outspread In piteous pleading for the dead. Himself too in the press he knows. Mixed with the foremost line of foes. And swarthy Memnon, armed for war, With followers from the morning star. BOOK I. 25 Penthesilea leads afield The sisters of the moony shield, One naked breast conspicuous shown By looping of her golden zone, And burns with all the battle's heat, A maid, the shock of men to meet. While thus with passionate amaze ^neas stood in one set gaze, Queen Dido with a warrior train In beauty's pride approached the fane. As when upon Eurotas' banks Or Cynthus' summits high Diana leads the Oread ranks In choric revelry. Girt with her quiver, straight and tall. Though all be gods, she towers o'er all ; Latona's mild maternal eyes Beam with unspoken ecstasies : So Dido looked ; so 'mid the throng With joyous step she moved along, As pressing on to antedate The birthday of her nascent state. Then, 'neath the temple's roofing shell. On stairs that mount the inner cell. Throned on a chair of queenly state. Hemmed round by glittering arms, she sate. Thus circled by religious awe She gives the gathered people law. By chance-drawn lot or studious care Assigning each his labor's share. When Id ! a concourse to the fane : He looks : amid the shouting train Lost Antheus and Sergestus pressed. And brave Cloanthus, and the rest. Driven by fierce gales the water o'er, And landed on a different shore. 26 THE .^NEID. Astounded stand twixt fear and joy- Achates and the chief of Troy : They burn to hail them and salute, But wildering wonder keeps them mute. So, peering through their cloudy screen, They strive the broken tale to glean, Where rest the vessels and the crew. And wherefore thus they come to sue : For every ship her chief had sent, And clamoring towards the fane they went. Then, audience granted by the queen, Ilioneus spoke with placid mien : " Lady, whom gracious Jove has willed A city in the waste to build, And minds of savage temper school By justice' humanizing rule, We, tempest-tost on eveiy wave. Poor Trojans, your compassion crave From hideous flame our barks to save : Commiserate our wretched case. And war not on a pious race. We come not, we, to spoil and slay Your Libyan households, sweep the prey Off to the shore, then haste away : Meek grows the heart by misery cowed, And vanquished souls are not so proud. A land there is, by Greece of old Known as Hesperia, rich its mould, Its children brave and free : CEnotrians were its planters : Fame Now gives the race their leader's name, And calls it Italy. There lay our course, when, grief to tell, Orion, rising with a swell. BOOK/. 27 Hurled us on shoals, and scattered wide O'er pathless rocks along the tide 'Mid swirling billows : thence our crew Drifts to your coast, a rescued few. What tribe of human kind is here ? What barbarous region yields such cheer? E'en the cold welcome of the sand To b'avellers is barred and banned : Ere earth we touch, they draw the sword, And drive us from the bare sea-board. If men and mortal arms ye slight. Know there are Gods who watch o'er right. ,/Eneas was our king, than who The breath of being none e'er drew, More brave, more pious, or more true : If he still looks upon the sun. No spectre yet, our fears are done, Nor need you doubt to assume the lead In rivalry of generous deed. Sicilia too, no niggard field. Has towns to hold us, arms to shield, And king Acestes, brave and good. In heart a Trojan, as in blood. Give leave to draw our ships ashore, There smooth the plank and shape the oar : So, should our friends, our king survive, For Italy we yet may strive : But, if our hopes are quenched, and thee, Best father of the sons of Troy, Death hides beneath the Libyan sea, Nor spares to us thy princely boy. Yet may we seek Sicania's land. Her mansions ready to our hand, And dwell where we were guests so late, The subjects of Acestes' state." 28 THE .MNEID. So spoke Ilioneus : and the rest With shouts their loud assent expressed. Then, looking downward, Dido said : " Discharge you, Trojans, of your dread : An infant realm and fortune hard Compel me thus my shores to guard. Who knows not of Eneas' name, Of Troy, her fortune and her fame. And that devouring war ? Our Punic hearts have more of fire, Nor all so retrograde from Tyre Doth Phoebus yoke his car. Whate'er your choice, the Hesperian plains Or Eryx and Acestes' reign, My arms shall guard you in your way, My treasuries your needs purvey. Or would a home on Libya's shores Allure you more ? this town is yours : Lay up your vessels : Tyre and Troy Alike shall Dido's thoughts employ. And would we had your monarch too, Driven hither by the blast, like you, The great -^neas ! I will send And search the coast from end to end, If haply, wandering up and down, He bide in woodland or in town.'' In breathless eagerness of joy Achates and the chief of Troy Were yearning long the cloud to burst ; And thus Achates spoke the first : " What now, my chief, the thoughts that rise Within you ? see, before your eyes Your fleet, your friends restored ; B OK I. Save one, who sank beneath the tide E'en in our presence : all beside Confirmc your mother's word." Scarce had he said, the mist gives way And purges brightening into day ; ^neas stood, to sight confest, A very God in face and chest : For Venus round her darling's head A length of clustering locks had spread, Crowned him with youth's purpureal lightt And made his eyes gleam glad and bright : Such loveliness the hands of art To ivory's native hues impart : So 'mid the gold around it placed Shines silver pale or marble chaste. Then in a moment, unforeseen Of all, he thus bespeaks the queen : " Lo, him you ask for ! I am he, .^neas, saved from Libya's sea. O, only heart that deigns to mourn For Ilium's cruel care ! That bids e'en us, poor relics, torn From Danaan fury, all outworn By earth and ocean, all forlorn, Its home, its city share ! We cannot thank you ; no, nor they. Our brethren of the Dardan race. Who, driven from their ancestral place, Throughout the wide world stray. May Heaven, if virtue claim its thought, If justice yet avail for aught. Heaven, and the sense of conscious right, With worthier meed your acts requite ! 29 30 THE .^NEID. What happy ages gave you birth ? What glorious sires begat such worth? While rivers run into the deep, While shadow^s o'er the hillside sweep, While stars in heaven's fair pasture graze Shall live your honor, name, and praise, Whate'er my destined home." He ends, And turns him to his Trojan friends ; Ilioneus with his right hand greets. And with the left Serestus meets ; Then to the rest like welcome gave. Brave Gyas and Cloanthus brave. Thus as she listened, first his mien. His sorrow next, entranced the queen, And " Say," cries she, " what cruel wrong Pursued you, goddess-born, so long? What violence has your navy driven On this rude coast, of all 'neath heaven? And are you he, on Simois' shore Whom Venus to Anchises bore, yEneas? Well I mind the name, Since Teucer first to Sidon came. Driven from his home, in hope to gain By Belus' aid another reign, What time my father ruled the land Of Cyprus with a conqueror's hand. Then first the fall of Troy I knew, And heard of Grecia's kings, and you. Oft, I remember, would he glow In praise of Troy, albeit her foe ; Oft would he boast, with generous pride, Himself to Troy's old line allied. Then enter, chiefs, these friendly doors ; I too have had my fate, like yours, BOOK I. 31 Which, many a suffering overpast, Has willed to fix me here at last Myself not ignorant of woe. Compassion I have learned to show." She speaks, and speaking leads the Vvay To where her palace stands. And through the fanes a solemn day Of sacrifice commands. Nor yet unmindful of his friends, Her bounty to the shore she sends, A hundred bristly swine, A herd of twenty beeves, of lambs A hundred, with their fleecy dams. And spirit-cheering wine. - And now the palace they array With all the state that kings display. And through the central breadth of hall Prepare the sumptuous festival : There, wrought with many a fair design, Rich coverlets of purple shine : Bright silver loads the boards, and gold Where deeds of hero-sires are told. From chief to chief in sequence drawn. E'en from proud Sidon's earliest dawn. Meantime ^neas, loth to lose The father in the king. Sends down Achates to his crews : " Haste, to Ascanius bear the news. Himself to Carthage bring." A father's care, a father's joy All centre in the darling boy. Rich presents too he bids be brought. Scarce saved when Troy's last fight was fought, A pall with stiffening gold inwrought. 32 THE .^NBID. A veil, the marvel of the loom, Edged with acanthus' saffron bloom ; These Leda once to Helen gave, And Helen from Mycenae bore, What time to Troy she crossed the wave With that her unblessed paramour : The sceptre Priam's eldest fair, Ilione, was wont to bear ; Her necklace, and her coronet With gold and gems in circle set. Such mandate hastening to obey, Achates takes his shore-ward way. But Cytherea's anxious mind New arts, new stratagems designed, That Cupid, changed in mien and face. Should come in sweet Ascanius' place, Fire with his gifts the royal dame. And thread each leaping vein with Same The palace of deceit she fears. The double tongues of Tyre ; Fell Juno's form at night appears. And burns her like a fire. So to her will she seeks to move The winged deity of Love : " My son, my strength, my virtue born. Who laugh'st Jove's Titan bolts to scorn, To thee for succor I repair, And breathe the voice of suppliant prayer. How Juno drives from coast to coast Thy Trojan brother, this thou know'st, And oft hast bid thy sorrows flow With mine in pity of his woe. Him now this Tyrian entertains, And with soft speech his stay constrains : B OOK I. 33 But I, I cannot brook with ease Junonian hospitalities ; Nor, where our fortunes hinge and turn, Can she long rest in unconcern. Fain would I first ensnare the dame, And wrap her leaguered heart in flame. So, ere she change by power malign, /Eneas' love shall bind her mine. Such triumph how thou mayst achieve, The issue of my thought receive. To Sidon's town the princely heir, The darling motive of my care. Sets out at summons of his sire. With presents, saved from flood and fire. Him, in the bands of slumber tied, In high Cythera I will hide. Or blest Idalia, safe and far. Lest he perceive the plot, or mar. Thou for one night supply his room, Thyself a boy, the boy assume ; That when the queen, with rapture glowing, While boards blaze rich, and wine is flowing, Shall make thee nestle in her breast. And to thy lips her lips are prest. The stealthy plague thou mayst inspire, And thrill her with contagious fire. Young Love obeyed, his plumage stripped. And, laughing, like lulus tripped. But Venus on her grandson strows The dewy softness of repose. And laps him in her robe, and bears To tall Idalia's fragrant airs, Where soft amaracus receives And gently curtains him with leaves : 3 34 THE .^NBID. While Cupid, tutored to obey, Beside Achates takes his way, And bears the presents, blithe and gay. Arrived, he finds the Tyrian queen On tapestry laid of gorgeous sheen. In .central place, her guests between. There lies ^neas, there his train. All stretched at ease on purple grain. Slaves o'er their hands clear water pour, Deal round the bread from basket-store, And napkins thick with wool : Within full fifty maids supply Fresh food, and make the hearths blaze high: A hundred more of equal age. Each with her fellow, girl and page. Serve to the gathered company The meats and goblets full. The invited Tyrians throng the hall, And on the broidered couches fall. They marvel as the gifts they view. They marvel at the bringer too. The features where the God shines throughg The tones his mimic voice assumes. The pall, the veil with saffron blooms. But chiefly Dido, doomed to ill. Her soul with gazing cannot fill. And, kindling with delirious fires. Admires the boy, the gifts admires. He, having hung a little space Clasped in Eneas' warm embrace And satisfied the fond desire Of that his counterfeited sire, Turns him to Dido. Heart and eye She clings, she cleaves, she makes him lie Lapped in her breast, nor knows, lost fair, How dire a God sits heavy there. BOOK I. 35 But he, too studious to fulfil His Acidalian mother's will, Begins to cancel trace by trace The imprint of Sychaeus' face, And bids a living passion steal On senses long unused to feel. Soon as the feast begins to lull, And boards are cleared away. They place the bowls, all brimming full, And wreathe with garlands gay. Up to the rafters mounts the din, And voices swell and heave within : From the gilt roof hang cressets bright, And flambeau-fires put out\the night. The queen gives charge : a cup is brought With massy gold and jewels wrought. Whence ancient Belus quaffed his wine. And all the kings of Belus' line. Then silence reigns : " Great Jove, who know'st The mutual rights of guest and host, O make this day a day of joy Alike to Tyre and wandering Troy, And may our children's children feel The blessing of the bond we seal 1 Be Bacchus, giver of glad cheer. And bounteous Juno, present here ! And Tyrians, you with frank good will Our courteous purposes fulfil." She spoke, and on the festal board The meed of due libation poured, Touched with her lip the goblef s edge. Then challenged Bitias to the pledge. He grasped the cup with eager hold. And drenched him with the foaming gold. 36 THE u^NBID. The rest succeed. lopas takes His gilded lyre, its chords awakes, The long-haired bard, rehearsing sweet The descant learned at Atlas' feet. He sings the wanderings of the moon, The sun eclipsed in deadly swoon, Whence human kind and cattle came, And whence the rain-spout and the flame, Arcturus and the two bright Bears, And Hyads weeping showery tears. Why winter suns so swiftly go. And why the weary nights move slow. With plaudits Tyre the minstrel greets, And Troy the loud acclaim repeats. And now discourse succeeds to song : Poor Dido makes the gay night long. Still drinking love-draughts, deep and strong: Much of great Priam asks the dame, Much of his greater son : Now of Tydides' steeds of flame. Now in what armor Memnon came, Now how Achilles shone. "Nay, guest" she cries "vouchsafe t kpace The tale of Danaan fraud to trace. The dire misfortunes of your race, These wanderings of your own : For since you first 'gan wander o'er Yon homeless world of sea and shon>- Seven summers nigh have fl lure me to the green : No, though the bull were twice as fair, 'Tis not the prize should make me dare." Then on the ground in open view Two gloves of giant weight he threw Which Eryx once in combat plied And braced him with the tough bull-hide. In speechless wonder all behold : Seven mighty hides with fold on fold Enwrap the fist : and iron sewed And knobs of lead augment the load. E'en Dares starts in sheer dismay, And shuns the desperate essay ; The gauntlets' weight ^neas tries. And handles their enormous size. Then fetching speech from out his breast The veteran thus the train addressed : " What if the gauntlets you had seen Alcides wore that day, Had stood on this ensanguined green And watched the fatal fray ? These gloves your brother Eryx wore, Still stained, you see, with brains and gore. With these 'gainst Hercules he stood : With these I fought, while youthful blood Supplied me strength, nor age had shed Its envious winter on my head. But if the arms Sicilians wield Deter the Trojan from the field. If so Eneas' thoughts incline. And so my chief approves. Let both be equal, side and side : I spare you Eryx' grim bull-hide : Dismiss that terror, and resign In turn your Trojan gloves." 1 62 THE yENEID. He said, and from his shoulders throws The robe he wont to use, His mighty frame's contexture shows, His mighty arms and thews. And in the middle of the sand In giant greatness takes his stand. Then good Anchises' son supplies Two pairs of gauntlets matched in size, Equips the combatants alike, And sets them front to front to strike. Raised on his toes each champion stands, And fearless lifts in air his hands. Their heads, thrown back, avoid the stroke ; Their mighty arms the fight provoke. That on elastic youth relies, This on vast limbs and giant size ; But the huge knees with age are slack, And fitful gasps the deep chest rack. Full many a wound the heroes rain Each on the other, still in vain : Their hollow sides return the sound, Their battered chests the shock rebound : 'Mid ears and temples come and go The wandering gauntlets to and fro : The jarred teeth chatter 'neath the blow. Firm stands Entellus in his place, A column rooted on its base ; His w^atchful eye and shrinking frame Alone avoid the gauntlet's aim. Like leaguer who invests a town Or sits before a hill-fort down. The younger champion tasks his art To find the bulwark's weakest part, BOOK V. 163 This way and that unwearied scans, And vainly tries a thousand plans. Entellus, rising to the blow, Puts forth his hand : the wary foe Midway in air the mischief spied, And, deftly shifting, slipped aside. Entellus' force on air is spent : Heavily down with prone descent He falls, as from its roots uprent A pine falls hollow, on the side Of Erymanth or lofty Ide. Loud clamoring from their seats arise Troy's and Trinacria's sons : The shouts mount upward to the skies : And first Acestes runs. And tenderly from earth uprears His ancient friend of equal years. But not disheartened by his foil The champion rises from the soil : With wrath he goads his sluggard might, And turns him fiercer to the fight : The smouldering mass is stirred to flame By conscious worth and glowing shame : Ablaze with fury he pursues The Trojan o'er the green. And now his right hand deals the bruise. And now his left as keen. No pause, no respite : fierce and fast As hailstones rattle down the blast On sloping roofs, with blow on blow He buffets Dares to and fro. But good ^neas suflTered not The strife to rage too far : Or ere Entellus waxed more hot, He bade him cease the war, 164 THE ^!SNEID. Delivered Dares, sore distressed, And thus with soothing words addressed : " Alas ! what frenzy of the mind Has made you, hapless friend, so blind ? Perceive you not the powers have changed, And left the side where once they ranged ? Give way to Heaven." Such speech he made, And as he spoke, the combat stayed. But Dares by a friendly throng All helplessly is dragged along ; Trailing his knees his weight beneath, Swaying his head from side to side. While clotted gore and loosened teeth Pour from his mouth in mingled tide. They bear him to the ships away : Then at a call receive The helm and sword : the bull and bay They with Entellus leave. With triumph kindling in his eyes And glorying in the bull, his prize. The victor to the concourse cries : " Learn, goddess-born, and Ilium's host. What strength my youthful arm could boast. And what the death, from whose dark door Your rescued Dares you restore." He spoke, and stood before the bull. Swung back his arm, and planted full Between its horns the gauntlet's blow. The brain came through the shattered skull : Prone, quivering, dead, the beast lies low While words like these the veteran said In consecration of the dead : " This better substitute I pay, Er)rx, to thee, for Dares' life, And here renounce, as conqueror may, The gauntlets and the strife." BOOK V. 165 The champions next, who would compete In archer skill with arrow fleet, ^neas summons, and ordains The gifts that shall reward their pains. His mighty hand erects a mast Plucked from Serestus' bark, And to its top a dove makes fast To be the bowman's mark. The rivals gather to the spot : A brazen helm receives each lot : And first amid applauding cries Hippocoon's name to daylight flies : Next Mnestheus, wreathed with olive crown, Mnestlieus, whose vessel earned renown. Third in the list Eurytion came. Thy brother, Pandarus, mighty name. Whose arrow, charged to break the peace. First fluttered through the ranks of Greece- Last at the bottom of the casque Acestes' lot appears, He too adventuring to the task That matches younger years. They bend their bows like men of worth, And from the case their shafts draw forth : And first from off" the twanging string Hippocoon's feathered dart takes wing, Achieves the passage, and sticks fast Full in the centre of the mast. The stout tree quivers : the scared bird Flaps, and applauding peals are heard. Then Mnestheus raises toward the sky His bow, and levels shaft and eye — But ah ! the dove he might not wound : His arrow cuts the flaxen ties i66 THE .mNEID. Which to the mast had held her bound ; And forth into the clouds she flies. With shaft already aimed for flight, Eurytion to his brother vowed : Triumphant as she wings the height, He strikes the dove beneath a cloud. Pierced to the heart, she leaves behind Her life to mingle with the wind. And as she tumbles to the ground, The weapon in her side is found. And now, of victory bereft, Acestes at the end is left : Yet still he shoots in air, to show His veteran skill and sounding bow : When sudden lo ! the gazers see A sign of mightiest augury : The dire event the truth revealed, And seers too late their warnings pealed. E'en in the mid expanse of skies The arrow kindles as it flies, Behind it draws a fiery glare. Then wasting, vanishes in air : So stars, dislodged, athwart the night Career, and trail a length of light. In wonder either nation gazed. Their souls to Heaven in prayer upraised : Nor great ^neas dared disown The omen by the gods foreshown ; Acestes to his heart he pressed. With presents heaped, and thus addressed i " Take this, my father ! 'tis decreed That yours should be a special meed : So speak these signs above. This bowl, enchased with figures, take, And keep it for Anchises' sake : BOOK V. 167 A gift which Cisseus, lord of Thrace, Once gave my sire of his dear grace, In token of their love." Then round Acestes' temples hoar He bound the vsrreath of bay, And hailed him all his peers before The conqueror of the day : Nor good Euiytion grudged to see The veteran's claim preferred. Albeit that he, and none but he, Struck down the soaring bird. Next his who cut the cord, and last The champion's turn who struck the mast. But good ^neas, e'en before The archers' rivalry was o'er, In private summoned to his side The young lulus' trusted guide. Old Periphas Epytides, And gently whispered words like these ; " Go now, and if Ascanius' band Of boyish knights is here at hand. Bid him on this his grandsire's day Himself and them in arms display." This said, he bids the company Retire, and leave the circus free. They enter, glittering side by side. And rein their steeds with youthful pride, As 'neath their fathers' eyes they ride. While all Trinacria's host and Troy's With plaudits greet the princely boys. Each has his hair by rule confined With stripped-off leaves in garland twined : Some ride with shapely bows equipped : Two cornel spears they bear, steel-tipped : 1 68 THE .^NEID. And wreaths of twisted gold invest The neck, and sparkle on the breast. Three are the companies of horse, And three the chiefs that scour the course Twelve gallant boys each chief obey, And shine in tripartite array. Young Priam first, Polites' heir, Well-pleased his grandsire's name to bear. Leads his gay troop, himself decreed To raise up an Italian seed : He prances forth, all dazzling bright, On Thracian steed with spots of white : White on its fetlock's front is seen. And white the space its brows between. Then Atys, next in place, from whom The Atian family descend : Young Atys, fresh with life's first bloom, The boy lulus' sweet boy-friend : lulus last, in form and face Preeminent his peers above, A courser rides of Tyrian race, Memorial gift of Dido's love. Sicilian steeds the rest bestride From old Acestes' stalls suplied. The Dardanids with mingling cheers Relieve the young aspirants' fears. And gaze delighted, as they trace A parent's mien in each fair face. And now when all from first to last Beneath their kinsfolk's eyes had past, Before the assembled crowd, Epytides shrills forth from far His signal-shout, as if for war. And cracks his whip aloud. BOOK V. 169 In equal parts the bands divide, And gallop off on either side : Then wheeling round in full career Charge at a call with levelled spear. Again, again, they come and go Through adverse spaces to and fro ; Circles in circles interlock, And, sheathed in arms, the gazers mock With mimicry of battle-shock. And now they turn their backs in flight, Now put their spears in rest, And now in amity unite. And ride the field abreast. E'en as of old the Cretan maze With blind blank walls its secret hid, A tangle of a thousand ways. Which whoso sought by signs to thrid Went wandering, baffled and involved. Through paths returnless and unsolved : Such tangle make the youths of Troy As o'er the champaign they deploy. And deftly weave in sportive play A mingled web of fight and fray. As dolphins at their sport with ease The expanse of ocean sweep 'Twixt Libyan and Carpathian seas And gambol o'er the deep. This pageantry of mimic strife Ascanius called again to life. What time with wall and rampart strong He girdled Alba, named the Long, And to the elder Latins showed The celebration and the mode Which erst he practised when a boy. And, 'neath his lead, the youth of Troy. 170 THE .^NEID. Young Alba learned the lesson set : From Alba queenly Rome Received the lore, and honors yet The custom of her home, And Troy's hereditary name Still marks the players and the game. Thus far the pageant rites were paid To blest Anchises' hallowed shade. Now Fortune first with wayward guile Changed for a frown her former smile. Fell Juno, while before the mound The games perform their festal round, Despatches Iris from the sky And gives her wings of wind to fly. Deep plotting ill, her ancient pride Yet festering and unpacified. Adown her bow of myriad dyes, Unseen of all, the maiden hies, The mighty concourse she surveys, Then turns her to the sea : A port forsaken meets her gaze, A fleet from tendance free. But on a sheltered beach alone The dames of Troy are making moan For their lost sire, and as they weep Look wistful, woful o'er the deep. O weary, weary length of foam ! O watery waste whereon to roam ! So, one and all, they cry : A settled city they implore : 'Twere pain and heaviness once more The ocean's toils to try. So now, not ignorant of harm. The goddess veils each heavenly charm, BOOK V. 171 And sudden stands before their eyes In Beroe's simulated guise, Beroe, Doryclus' aged dame, Who once had children, place and name : And thus transfigured she proclaims Her presence to the assembled dames : " O wretches, whom in Ilium's day The Argive conqueror spared to slay ! O race long exercised in ill ! For what extreme has Fortune's will Preserved you living, suffering still ? Now, since our country was no more. Seven summers nigh have flown, And we, still tossing ocean o'er, 'Mid reefs of cold bare stone, O'erarched by alien stars above, All homeless and unfriended rove. While through the billows we pursue Italia, flying from the view. And down the tides are blown. Lo, here is Eryx' brother coast., Acestes too, our kingly host : Why make not here our home, and bless With city walls the cityless ? O country ! O ye home-god powers Snatched from the foe in vain ! Shall never town of Troy be ours In all the world again ? Xanthus and Simois, Hector's streams. Shall I behold them but in dreams? Come, share my counsel, and conspire To wrap these ill-starred ships in fire. E'en as I slept last night, methought New-lighted brands Cassandra brought, And ' Here,' she cried, ' conclude your quest : Here find your Troy, your home of rest.' This hour the deed demands. 172 THE .^NEID. Shall man's supineness mock the skies? See, altars four to Neptune rise : The God, the God himself supplies The fury and the brands." She seized a torch, and o'er her head Waved it with backdrawn arm, and sped. With kindling hearts and senses dazed The mothers of Dardania gazed. Then one, in reverend years the first, Pyrgo, who Priam's sons had nurst, " No Beroe, matrons, have you here : Not this Doryclus' wife : See, breathing in her face appear Signs of celestial life : Observe her eyes, how bright they shine : Mien, accent, walk, are all divine. Beroe herself I left but now Sick and outworn, with clouded brow, That she alone should fail to pay Due reverence to Anchises' day." In doubt at first the matrons stand. And scan the ships with eyes malign, Divided 'twixt their present land And that which beckons o'er the brine, When lo ! her wings the goddess spread, And skjrward on her rainbow fled. Then all as one to madness driven By portents manifest from heaven, A shout of loud acclaim they raise, Live embers snatch from hearths ablaze, The fuel on the altars seize. Hurl stocks and brands, and boughs of trees : The fire-god darts from mast to keel O'er bench and oar, and figured deal. BOOK V. 173 Swift breaks Eumelus on the games With tidings of the fleet in flames, And, looking back, the gazers spy The smoke-clouds blackening on the sky. Ascanius flrst, as o'er the mead He leads his young array, Spurs to the camp his fiery steed. Nor can his guardians, blown with speed, His headlong impulse stay : And " Wretched countrywomen ! whence " He cries " this rag^ that robs your sense ? No Greek encampment you consume : No — 'tis your own dear hopes ye doom. Look ! your Ascanius speaks ! " before His feet upon the sand He flung the helm he lately wore While marshalling his band. yEneas and the Trojan host Come hurrying, hasting to the coast. The guilty matrons, winged with dread, Along the devious shores are fled, Hide in the tangles of the grove, Or huddling seek some rocky cove : Their frenzied enterprise they rue. And loathe the blessed light of heaven ; With sobering eyes their friends they view. And Juno from their souls is driven. Yet still with unabated power The fire continues to devour : 'Twixt the soaked timbers oozes slow Thick vapor from the smouldering tow ; The threads of pestilential flame Steal downward through each vessel's frame ; Nor all the efforts of the brave Nor streaming floods avail to save. 174 THE ^NEID. In desperate grief ^neas rends His raiment, and his hands extends : " Dread Sire, if Ilium's lorn estate Deserve not yet thine utter hate, If still thine ancient faithfulness Give heed to mortals in distress, O let the fleet escape the flame ! O save from death Troy's dying name 1 Or, if my deeds the stroke demand, Then, Father, bare thy red right hand, Send forth thy lightning, and o'erwhelm The poor remainder of our realm ! " Scarce had he ended, when from high Pours down a burst of rain, And thunder rolling round the sky Shakes rising ground and plain : All heaven lets loose its watery store ; The clouds are massed, the south winds roa With sluicing rain the ships are drenched, Till every spark at last is quenched, And all the barks, save only four. Escape the fiery conqueror. But good ^neas, all distraught By that too cruel blow. In dire perplexity of thought. Alternates to and fro. Still doubting should he take his rest, Unmindful of the fates' behest. In Sicily, or make once more An effort for the Italian shore. Then Nautes, whose experienced mind Pallas made sage beyond his kind. Interpreting what Heaven's dread ire Might threaten, or the fates require, BOOK V. 17s Bre.ithes counsel in Eneas' ear, And strives his anxious soul to cheer : " My chief, let Fate cry on or back, 'Tis ours to follow, nothing slack : Whate'er betide, he only cures The stroke of fortune who endures. Lo here Acestes the divine, Himself a prince of Dardan line : Invite his counsel ; bid him share (He will not gprudge) your load of care. Give to his charge the homeless band That erst our four lost vessels manned, Whoe'er from high emprise recoils And sickens to partake your toils. Old men and wayworn dames, and all That faints and shrinks at danger's call ; Here let the weary set them down. And build them a Sicilian town : Let courtesy assert her claim. And give the place Acestes' name." With kindling soul he meditates The counsel of his friend. And fiercer still the dire debates His troubled bosom rend. Now sable night invests the sky, When lo ! descending from on high The semblance of Anchises seemed To give him counsel as he dreamed : " My son, more dear, whije life remained. E'en than that life to me. My son, long exercised and trained In Ilium's destiny. My errand is from Jove the sire, Who saved your vessels from the fire, 176 THE uSNJSID. And sent at last from heaven above The wished-for tokens of his love. Hear and obey the counsel sage Bestowed by Nautes' reverend age : Picked youths, the bravest of the brave, Be these your comrades o'er the wave, For haughty are the tribes and rude That Latium has to be subdued, But ere you yet confront the foe, First seek the halls of Dis below. Pass deep Avernus' vale, and meet Your father in his own retreat. Not Tartarus' prison-house of crime Detains me, nor the mournful shades : My home is in the Elysian clime. With righteous souls, 'mid happy glades. The virgin Sibyl with the gore Of sable sheep shall ope the door. Then shall you learn your future line. And what the walls the fates assign. And now farewell : dew-sprinkled Night Has scaled Olympus' topmost height : I catch their panting breath from far. The steeds of Morning's cruel star." He said, and vanished out of sight, Like thinnest smoke, and mixed with night ; While " Whither now? " yEneas cries : " What makes thee hurry thus apace? Whom fliest thou ? what constraint denies A father to his son's embrace ? " With that he wakes the slumbering fire. Adores the home-god of his sire, And worships Vesta's awful power With frankincense and wheaten flour. BOOK V. 177 At once he summons to his side Acestes and his comrades tried, Jove's mandate and his sire's unfolds, And how at length his purpose holds. No long debates the deed delay, Nor good Acestes says him nay. Forthwith the matrons they enrol, First dwellers in the new-planned town. And disembark each weary soul That thirsts no more for high renown. Themselves the fire-charred planks renew. The benches and the decks repair. Equip with oars each vessel's crew. And rig the masts with studious care, A gallant band, in number few. In spirit resolute to dare. Meantime ^neas draws the lines Of the new town, its homes assigns : Each place receives a name to bear. And here 'tis Troy, and Ilium there. Acestes, genuine son of Troy, Assumes the sovereignty with joy. Holds trial of each doubtful cause, And gives the infant senate laws. On Eryx' top a fane they raise To mate the stars, in Venus' praise, And with a priest and grove they grace Anchises' hallowed resting-place. And now the nine days' feast is o'er. The sacred rites complete ; The hushed gales smooth the watery floor ; The south-wind, freshening from the shore, Invites the lingering fleet. 178 THE .^NEID. Along the winding coast arise Loud sounds of grief and tearful cries. Locked in each other's arms they stay, And clog the wheels of night and day. Nay, e'en the matrons, e'en the crew Who shuddered at the ocean's view And loathed its name, now fain would flee And brave the hardships of the sea. With kindliness of gentle speech The good ^neas comforts each, And to their kinsman prince commends With tears his subjects and his friends. Three calves to Eryx next he kills ; A lambkin's blood to Tempest spills. And bids them loose from land : With olive-leaves he binds his brow. Then takes his station on the prow, A charger in his hand, Flings out the entrails on the brine. And pours a sacred stream of wine. Fair winds escort them o'er the deep : With emulous stroke the waves they sweep But Venus, torn by many a fear, Thus breathes her plaint in Neptune's ear : " Fell Juno's persecuting ire, Still raging with unsated fire. Compels me, Neptune, to abase My pride, and humbly sue for grace. No lapse of time, how long soe'er. Nor all the force of duteous prayer, Nor hest of Jove, nor will of fate That changeless rancor can abate. 'Tis not enough to have devoured A queenly city, walled and towered. BOOK V. 179 And made the wretched captives drain E'en to its dregs the cup of pain : She still pursues the flying rout, And strives to stamp the last spark out ; — Strange mystery of hatred, known To none but to herself alone ! Thyself wast there when lately she Raised tumult in the Libyan sea ; Thou saw'st in what confusion blent She mingled main and firmament, Armed with -^olian storms in vain, In bold defiance of thy reign. Now, working on the Trojan dames, She foully wraps our fleet in flames. And drives the crews, their vessels lost, To settle on an unknown coast. Thus then, for what remains, I crave Thine own safe conduct o'er the wave, That so, emerging from the main, Laurentian Tiber they may gain. If what I ask is ruled in Heaven, If there the city Fate has given." Great Ocean's lord replied : " 'Tis just Cythera's queen my realm should trust, Which erst her being gave : And oft-times too has Neptune won Her confidence by service done In calming wind and wave : Nor e'en on earth (let Xanthus speak And Simois) has my arm been weak Thy gallant son to save. When fierce Achilles from the coast Drove to their walls Troy's panting host, While the choked rivers gasped for breath, And gave whole multitudes to death. l8o THE .^NEID. And laboring Xanthus strove in vain To roll his waters to the main, Then, as ^neas, undismayed, With weaker strength and feebler aid Pelides met, I barred the fray, And bore him in a cloud away, Though all my will was to destroy My own creation, perjured Troy. And now as then my heart is set To work him good : thy fears forget. Avernus' haven he shall see In safety, where he fain would be. One life alone shall glut the wave ; One head shall fall the rest to save." Thus having soothed the goddess' cares, His fiery steeds the Father pairs. With foamy bit each fierce mouth checks, Then flings the reins upon their necks. Along the surface of the tides His sea-green chariot smoothly glides : Hushed by his wheels the billows lie ; The storm-clouds vanish from the sky. His vassals follow in his wake. Sea-monsters of enormous make, Palasmon, child of Ino's strain. With Glaucus' venerable train. And Tritons, swift to cleave the flood, And Phbrcus' finny multitude. Then Thetis comes, and Melite, Nessee, Spio, Panope, Thalia and Cymodoce. A pleasing joy succeeds to fear In good .Eneas' mind : BOOK V. i8i He bids them all their masts uprear, And spread their sails to wind. All at the word throughout the fleet Stretch out the canvass on the sheet, Now left, now right, alike they shift : The gales are kind, the barks fly swift ; First Palinurus leads the way ; The rest observe him, and obey. Now Night's fleet coursers almost reach The summit of the sky : The weary oarsmen, all and each, Along the benches He, When lo ! false Sleep, on pinions light, Drops down from heaven and cleaves the night ; Sad dreams to thee beneath his wings, Unhappy Palinure, he brings. Lights on the stern in Phorbas' guise, And thus with soft enticement plies : " See, Palinure, the vessels glide E'en with the motion of the tide ; The breeze with steady current blows ; The very hour invites repose : Rest your tired head, and for awhile Those hard-tasked eyes of toil beguile ; Myself will take, for that short space^ The rudder, and supply your place." Scarce lifting from the heaven his eyes, The wary Palinure replies : " What? I the dupe of Ocean's wiles? I trust this fiend that fawns and smiles ? Commit ^neas to the gale, Who oft have proved how false its tale ? " Thus as he speaks, his hand and eye Cleave to the rudder and the sky ; When lo ! the god a slumberous bough With dews of Styx and Lethe wet i82 THE .^NEID. Shakes gently o'er the watcher's brow, And seals those eyes, so firmly set. Scarce had the loosening limbs given way, The demon falls upon his prey, And hurls him, dragging wood-work rent And rudder in his prone descent, With headlong ruin to the main, Invoking friendly aid in vain : Himself resumes his wings, and flies Aloft into the buoyant skies. Yet still the fleet by Neptune's aid Floats onward, safe and undismayed, Till as they near the Sirens' shore, A perilous neighborhood of yore And white with mounded bones, Where the hoarse sea with far-heard roar Keeps washing on the stones, The good chief feels the vessel sway. No steersman to direct its way. And takes himself the helm, and guides Their progress through the darkling tides. Full many a heart-fetched groan he heaved, Thus of his hapless friend bereaved : " Ah fatal confidence, too prone To trust in sea and sky ! A naked corpse on shores unknown Shall Palinurus lie I" BOOK VI. ARGUMENT. The Sibyl foretells ^neas the adventures he should meet with in Italy. She attends him to hell ; describing to him the various scenes of that place, and conducting him to his father Anchises, who instructs him in the sublime mys- teries of the soul, of the world, and the transmigration, and shows him that glorious race of heroes which was to descend from him and his posterity. 185 BOOK VI. So cries he while the tears run down, And gives his fleet the rein, Till, sailing on, the Euboic town Of Cumffl they attain : Toward the sea they turn their prores ; Each weary bark the anchor moors : The crooked sterns invest the shores. With buoyant hearts the youthful band Leap out upon the Hesperian strand ; Some seek the fiery sparkles, sown Deep in the veins of cold flint-stone : Some fell the silvan-haunted woods, And point with joy to new-found floods. But to the height ^neas hies Where Phcebus holds his seat, And seeks the cave of wondrous size. The Sibyl's dread retreat, The Sibyl, whom the Delian seer Inspires to see the future clear. And fills with frenzy's heat : The grove they enter, and behold Abo-« e their heads the roof of gold. Sage Daedalus, so runs the tale, From Minos bent to fly, On feathery pinions dared to sail Along the untravelled sky. 1 86 THE .^NEID. Flies northward through the polar heights, Nor stays till he on Cumae lights. First landed here, he consecrates The wings whereon he flew To Phoebus' power, and dedicates A fane of stately view. Androgeos' death the gates portray : Then Cecrops' sons appear, Condemned the price of blood to pay, Seven children year by year ; There, standing by the urn they wait The drawing of the lots of fate. Emergent on the other side The isle of Gnossus crests the tide ; Pasiphae shows her sculptured face. And Minotaur, of mingled race, Memorial of her foul disgrace. There too develops to the gaze The all inextricable maze ; But Daedalus, with pity moved For her who desperately loved, Himself his own dark riddle read. And gave a clue to guide the tread. Thou too, poor Icarus, there hadst filled No narrow room, if grief had willed : Twice strove the sire thy tale to tell : Twice the raised hands grew slack and fell So had they viewed the sculptures o'er, But now Achates, sent before, Returned, his errand done, And at his side Deiphobe, Phoebus and Dian's priestess she, Who thus her speech begun : " Not this the time, like idle folk. The hungry gaze to feed : BOOK VI. 187 Haste, doom ye to the victim-stroke Seven bulls, unconscious of the yoke, Seven ewes of choicest breed." This to yEneas ; nor his band Neglects the priestess' high command ; And now she bids the Teucrian train Attend her to the lofty fane. Witliin the mountain's hollow side A cavern stretches high and wide : A hundred entries thither lead ; A hundred voices thence proceed. Each uttering forth the Sibyl's rede. The sacred threshold now they trod : " Pray for an answer ! pray ! the God," She cries, " the God is nigh ! " And as before the doors in view She stands, her visage pales its hue. Her locks dishevelled fly, Her breath comes thick, her wild heart glows. Dilating as the madness grows. Her form looks larger to the eye. Unearthly peals her deep-ton6d cry. As breathing nearer and more near The God comes rushing on his seer. " So slack " cries she " at work divine? Pray, Trojan, pray ! not else the shrine Its spell-bound silence breaks." A shudder through the Dardans stole : Their chieftain from his inmost soul His supplication makes : " Phoebus, who ever hadst a heart For Ilium's woe to feel. Who guided Paris' Dardan dart True to Achilles' heel. 1 88 THE yENBID. So many seas round shores spread wide Beneath thy conduct have I tried, Massylian tribes, the ends of earth, And cHmes which Libyan sands engirth ; Now scarce at last we lay our hand On Italy's receding land : Suffice it, Troy's malignant star Has followed on our path thus far ! You too, ye Gods, may now forbear And these our hapless relics spare, Whom Ilium in her prosperous hour Affronted with o'er-weening power. And thou, dread maiden, who canst see The vision of the things to be. Vouchsafe the boon for which I sue — My fates demand no lighter due — That Troy and Troy's lorn gods may find In Latium rest from wave and wind. Then to thy patron gods a fane Of solid marble's purest grain My hand shall build, and festal days Preserve in life Apollo's praise. Thee too in that my promised state August observances await : For there thy words I will enshrine Delivered to my race and line, And chosen ministers ordain. Custodians of the sacred strain. But O commit not, I implore, To faithless leaves thy precious lore, Lest by the wind's wild eddies tost Abroad they fly, their sequence lost. Thyself the prophecy declare." He said, and speaking closed his prayer. BOOK VI. 189 The seer, impatient of control, Raves in the cavern vast, And madly struggles from her soul The incumbent power to cast : He, mighty Master, plies the more Her foaming mouth, all chafed and sore. Tames her wild heart with plastic hand. And makes her docile to command. Now, all untouched, the hundred gates Fly open, and proclaim the fates : " O freed at length from toils by sea ! But worse on land remain. The warrior-sons of Dardany Lavinium's realm shall gain ; That fear dismiss ; but fortune cross Shall make them wish their gain were loss. War, dreadful war, and Tiber flood I see incarnadined with blood. Simois and Xanthus and the plain Where Greece encamped shall rise again : A new Achilles, goddess born. The destinies provide. And Juno, like a rankling thorn. Shall never quit your side, While you, distressed and desolate. Go knocking at each city's gate. The old, old cause shall stir the strife, A stranger bed, a foreign wife. Yet still despond not, but proceed Along the path where Fate may lead. The first faint gleam that gilds your skies Shall from a Grecian city rise." Such mystic oracles divine Shrills forth the priestess from her shrine. 190 THE .^NBID. And wraps her truth in mystery round, While all the cave returns the sound ; Still the fierce power her hard mouth wrings. And deep and deeper plants his stings. Soon as the frenzy-fit was o'er, And foamed the savage lips no more, The chief begins : " No cloud can rise Unlooked for to yEneas' eyes : My prescient soul has all forecast, And seen the future as the past. One boon I crave : since here, 'tis said, The path leads downward to the dead, Where Acheron's brimming waters spread. There let me go, and see the face Of him, the father of my love ; Thyself the dubious journey trace, And the dread gates remove. Him through the fire these shoulders bore. And from the heart of battle tore : He shared my travel, braved with me The menaces of every sea. The ocean's roar, the tempest's rage. With feeble strength transcending age. Nay, 'twas his voice that bade me seek Thy presence, and thine aid bespeak. O pity son and father both. Blest maid ! for naught to thte is hard, Nor vainly sworn was Dian's oath That placed thee here, these shades to guard. If Orpheus back to light and life Could summon his departed wife, Albeit he owned no other spell Than the soft breathings of his shell ; If Pollux ransomed from the tomb His brother's shade, and halved his doom, BOOK VI. 191 And trod and trod again the way — Why talk of Theseus? why Of great Alcides? I, as they, Descend from Jove most high." So spoke he, hand on altar laid : The priestess took the word, and said : " Inheritor of blood divine, Preserver of Anchises' line. The journey down to the abyss Is prosperous and light : The palace-gates of gloomy Dis Stand open day and night : But upward to retrace the way And pass into the light of day. There comes the stress of labor ; this May task a hero's might. A few, whom heaven has marked for love Or glowing worth has throned above, Themselves of seed divine conceived, The desperate venture have achieved. Besides, the interval of ground Is clothed with thickest wood, And broad Cocytus winds around Its dark and sinuous flood. But still should passionate desire Stir in your soul so fierce a fire, Twice o'er the Stygian pool to swim, Twice look on Tartarus' horrors dim, If naught will quench your madman's thirst, Then learp what duties claim you first. Deep in a mass of leafy growth, Its stems and foliage golden both, A precious bough there lurks unseen, Held sacred to the infernal queen : 193 THE ySNBID. Around it bends the whole dark grove, And hides from view the treasure-trove. Yet none may reach the shades without The passport of that golden sprout : For so has Proserpine decreed That this should be her beauty's meed. One plucked, another fills its room, And burgeons with like precious bloom. Go, then, the shrinking treasure track. And pluck it with your hand : Itself will follow, nothing slack, Should Fate the deed command : It not, no weapon man can wield Will make its dull reluctance yield. Then too, your comrade's breathless clay (Alas ! you know not) taints the day And poisons all your fleet. While on our threshold still you stay And Heaven's response entreat. Him to his parent earth return Observant, and his bones inurn. Lead to the shrine black cattle : they Will cleanse whate'er would else pollute ; Thus shall you Acheron's banks survey, Where never living soul found way." She ended, and was mute. With downcast visage, sad and grave, j^neas turns him from the cave. And ponders o'er his woe : Still by his side Achates moves. Companion to the chief he loves. As thoughtful and as slow. Much talked they on their onward way, Debating whose the senseless clay That claims a comrade's tomb : BOOK VI. 193 When on the naked shore, behold, They see Misenus, dead and cold, Destroyed by ruthless doom ; The son of ^olus, than who None ere more skilled the trumpet blew, To animate the warrior crew And martial fire relume. Once Hector's comrade, in the fray He mingled, proud the sword to sway Or bid the clarion sound : When Hector 'neath the conqueror died, He joined him to Eneas' side. Nor worse allegiance found. Now, as he sounds along the waves His shell, and Heaven to conflict braves, 'Tis said that Triton heard his boast And 'mid the billows on the coast Sunk low his drowning head. So all the train with cries of grief Assailed the skies, .^neas chief: Then, as the Sibyl bade, they ply Their mournful task, and heap on high With timber rising to the sky The altar of the dead. First to the forest they repair, The silvan prowler's leafy lair : The pitch-tree falls beneath the stroke ; Th6 sharp axe rings upon the oak : Through beechen core the wedge goes deep : The ash comes rolling down the steep. /Eneas stirs his comrade's zeal. And foremost wields the workman steel. In moody silence he surveys The boundless grove : at last he prays : 13 194 THE .^NEID. " Ah ! would some God but show me no>y In all that wood the golden bough I My poor, poor friend ! in thee, alas, The Sibj'l's words have come to pass." Scarce had he said, when lo 1 there flew Two snow-white doves before his view, And on the sward took rest ; His mother's birds the hero knew. And joyful prayer addrest : " Hail, gentle guides ! before me fly. And mark my pathway on the sky : So lead me where the bough of gold Glooms rich above its parent mould. And thou, my mother, aid my quest, Nor leave me doubtful and distrest." He stayed his steps, intent to know What signs they give, which way they go. By turns they feed, by turns they fly, Just in the range of human eye ; Till when they scent the noisome gale Which dark Avernus' jaws exhale Aloft they rise in rapid flight : Then on the ti-ee at once alight Where flashing through the leaves is seen The golden bough's contrasted sheen. As in the depth of winter's snow The parasitic mistletoe Bursts with fresh bloom, and clothes anew The smooth bare stems with saffron hue : So 'mid the oak's umbrageous green The gleam of leafy gold was seen : So 'mid the sounds of whispering trees The thin foil tinkled in the breeze. At once yEneas grasps the spray : His haste o'ercomes its coy delay. BOOK VI. 195 And laden with the new-won prize Beneath the Sibyl's roof he hies. Nor less meanwhile the Trojans pay To dead Misenus' thankless clay The last memorial rite : And first a giant pile they raise With oak and fir to feed the blaze, With dark-leaved boughs its sides enlace, Sad cypresses before it place, And deck with armor bright. Some fix the caldron, heat the wave, And oil the corpse which first they lave. Loud wails are heard : then on his bed, The weeping done, they stretch the dead, And heap above, the cold limbs o'er. The purple robes the living wore : Some lend their shoulders to the bier, A ministration sad and drear. And, as their fathers wont, apply The firebrands with averted eye : While streaming oil and offered spice Blaze up with flesh of sacrifice. And now, when sank the embers down, And ceased the flame to burn. The smouldering heap with wine they drown, And Corynseus from the pyre Collects the bones, charred white by fire, And stores in brazen urn : Then to his comrades thrice he gave Lustration from the flowing wave. With showery dew and olive bough Besprinkling each polluted brow. And spoke the last acclaim. But good ^neas bids arise A funeral mound of mighty size ; 196 THE .^NEID. There plants the arms the warrior bore, The trumpet and the shapely oar, Beneath a mountain high in air, Which bears, and evermore shall bear From him Misenus' name. This done, he hastens to fulfil The dictates of the Sibyl's will. Before his eyes a monstrous cave Expands its yawning womb. Protected by the lake's dark wave And forest's leafy gloom : O'er that dread space no flying thing Unjeopardied could ply its wing ; Such noisome exhalations rise From out its darkness to the skies. Here first the priestess sets in view Four goodly bulls of sable hue, And 'twixt their horns pours forth the wine ! The topmost hairs she next plucks out, That bristling on the forehead sprout, An offering to the flame divine ; On Hecate the while she cries, The Mighty One of shades and skies. Some 'neath the throat thrust in the knife And catch in cups the stream of life. To Earth, and Night, the Furies' dam, yEneas slays a black ewe-lamb, And bids a barren heifer bleed. For thee, dread Proserpine, decreed. To Pluto then he sets alight High altars, flaming through the night, And on the embers lays Whole bulls, denuded of their hide, Still pouring oil in copious tide To feed the surging blaze. BOOK VI. 197 When lo, as morning's orient red Just brightens o'er the sky, The firm ground bellows 'neath their tread, The wooded summits rock and sway. And through the shade the hell-hounds' bay Proclaims the goddess nigh. " Back, ye unhallowed " shrieks the seer " And leave the whole wide forest clear : Come, great ^neas, tread the way, And keep your falchion bared : Now for a heart that scorns dismay : Now for a soul prepared." This said, with madness in her face She plunged into the cave : He with her lengthening stride keeps pace, As fearless and as brave. Eternal Powers, whose sway controls The empire of departed souls. Ye too, throughout whose wide domain Black Night and grisly Silence reign, Hoar Chaos, awful Phlegethon, What ear has heard let tongue make known : Vouchsafe your sanction, nor forbid To utter things in darkness hid. Along the illimitable shade Darkling and lone their way they made, Through the vast kingdom of the dead, An empty void, though tenanted : So travellers in a forest move With but the uncertain moon above, Beneath her niggard light. When Jupiter has hid from view The heaven, and Nature's every hue Is lost in blinding night. 198 THE .^NBin. At Orcus' portals hold their lair Wild Sorrow and avenging Care ; And pale Diseases cluster there, And pleasureless Decay, Foul Penury, and Fears that kill. And Hunger, counsellor of ill, A ghastly presence they : Suffering and Death the threshold keep. And with them Death's blood-brother. Sleep : 111 Joys with their seducing spells And deadly War are at the door ; The Furies couch in iron cells, And Discord maddens and rebels ; Her snake-locks hiss, her wreaths drip gore Full in the midst an aged elm Broods darkly o'er the shadowy realm : There dream-land phantoms rest the wing, Men say, and 'neath its foliage cling. And many monstrous shapes beside Within the infernal gates abide ; There Centaurs, Scyllas, fish and maid, There Briareus' hundred-handed shade, Chimaera armed with flame, Gorgons and Harpies make their den, With the foul pest of Lerna's fen. And Geryon's triple frame. Alarmed, .^neas grasps his brand And points it at the advancing band ; And were no Sibyl there To warn him that the goblin swarm Are empty shades of hollow form, He would be rushing on the foe, And cleaving with an idle blow The unsubstantial air. BOOK VI. 199 The threshold passed, the road leads on To Tartarus and to Acheron. At distance rolls the infernal flood, Seething and swollen with turbid mud, And into dark Cocytus pours The burden of its oozy stores. Grim, squalid, foul, with aspect dire. His eye-balls each a globe of fire. The watery passage Charon keeps. Sole warden of those murky deeps : A sordid mantle round him thrown Girds breast and shoulder like a zone. He plies the pole with dexterous ease. Or sets the sail to catch the breeze. Ferrying the legions of the dead In bark of dusky iron-red, Now marked with age ; but heavenly powers Have fresher, greener eld than ours. Towards the ferry and the shore The multitudinous phantoms pour ; Matrons, and men, and heroes dead, And boys and maidens, yet unwed. And youths who funeral fires have fed Before their parents' eye : Dense as the leaves that from the treen Float down when autumn first is keen. Or as the birds that thickly massed Fly landward from the ocean vast, Driven over sea by wintry blast To seek a sunnier sky. Each in pathetic suppliance stands, So may he first be ferried o'er. And stretches out his helpless hands In yearning for the further shore : The ferryman, austere and stern. Takes these and those in varying turn. 200 THE .^NEID. While other some he scatters wide, And chases from the river side. yEneas, startled at the scene, Cries, " Tell me, priestess, what may mean This concourse to the shore ? What cause can shade from shade divide That these should leave the river side, Those sweep the dull waves o'er?" The ancient seer made brief reply : " Anchises' seed, of those on high The undisputed heir, Cocytus' pool and Styx you see. The stream by w^hose dread majesty No God will falsely swear. A helpless and unburied crew Is this that swarms before your view : The boatman, Charon : whom the wave Is carrying, these have found their grave. For never man may travel o'er That dark and dreadful flood, before His bones are in the urn. E'en till a hundred years are told They wander shivering in the cold : At length admitted they behold The stream for which they yearn." In deep thought paused Anchises' seed And pondei-ed o'er their cruel need. Tombless and sad, there meet his view Leucaspis and Orontes true Who Lycia's navy led : With him they left their Eastern home ; The southwind whelmed them 'neath the foam, And men and bark were sped. Lo ! pilot Palinurus' ghost Was wandering restlessly, BOOK VI. 20I Who, voyaging that fatal night, While on the stars he bent his sight. Was tumbled headlong from his post And flung upon the sea. Scarce in the gloom the godlike man His lost friend knew ; then thus began : " Ah Palinure ! what God was he That snatched you from my fleet and me And plunged you in the deeps ? Apollo, true in all beside, Here only has his word belied ; He promised you should 'scape and reach In safety the Ausonian beach ; Lo ! thus his faith he keeps ! " Then he : " Nor false was Phoebus' shrme, Nor godhead whelmed me in the brine. I slipped : the helm by which I steered Still to my tightening grasp adhered. Broke off", and with me fell. The ruthless powers of ocean know 'Twas not my fate that feared me so. As lest your ship, of help forlorn. Her pilot lost, her helm down-torn. Should fail in such a swell. Three long cold nights 'neath southwinds' sweep I drifted o'er the unmeasured deep : Scarce on the fourth dim dawn I sight Italia from the billow's height. Stroke after stroke I swam to shore ; And peril now was all but o'er. When, as in cumbering garments wet I grasped the steep with talon clutch, With swords the barbarous natives set On my poor life, my gear to touch. 202 THE yENBID. Now o'er the ocean am I blown, Or tossed on shore from stone to stone. O, by the genial light of day, By those soft airs on earth that play, By your loved sire I make my prayer, By the sweet promise of your heir. Respect our friendship : give relief From these my ills, unconquered chief: And either heap, as well you can, Some earth upon a wretched man — 'Twill cost you but to measure back To Velia's port your watery track — Or if perchance some way be known. Some path by your blest mother shown, For not unhelped of heaven, I trow, O'er those dread floods you hope to go. Vouchsafe the pledge my misery craves, And take me with you o'er the waves. That so in resting-place of peace My wandering life at length may cease." His piteous plaint was scarcely done When thus the prophetess begun : " Whence, Palinure, this wild desire ? What, still unburied, you aspire To see the stream that Furies guard, And tread, unbid, the bank's pale sward? No longer dream that human prayer The will of Fate can overbear. Yet take and in your memory store This cordial for your sorrow sore. For know, that cruel country-side. Alarmed by portents far and wide. Shall lay your spirit, raise a mound. And send down offerings undergfround : And all the coast, while time endures, Shall link its name with Palinure's." BOOK VI. 203 He hears, and feels his grief no more, But glories in the namesake shore. Once more upon their way they go And near the stream of sulphurous flow. Whom when the gloomy boatman saw Still nigher through the forest draw And touch the bank, with warning tone He hails the visitants unknown : " Whoe'er you are that sword in hand Our Stygian flood approach. Your errand speak from where you stand. Nor further dare encroach. These climes the spectres hold of right, The home of Sleep and slumberous Night ; My laws forbid me to convey Substantial forms of breathing clay. 'Twas no good hour that made me take Alcides o'er the nether lake. Nor found I more auspicious freight In Theseus and his daring mate ; Yet all were Heaven's undoubted heirs, And prowess more than man's was theirs. That from our monarch's footstool dragged The infernal watchdog, bound and gagged . These strove to force from Pluto's side Our mistress, his imperial bride." Then briefly thus the Amphrysian seer : " No lurking stratagems are here ; Dismiss your qualms : the sword we draw Imports no breach of Stygian law : Still let your porter from his den Scare bloodless shades that once were men With baying loud and deep : Let virtuous Proserpine maintain Her uncle's bed untouched by stain. And still his threshold keep. 204 THE yENBID. 'Tis Troy's ^neas, brave and good, To see his sire would cross the flood. If nought it soften you to see Such pure heroic piety, This branch at least " — and here she showed The branch within her raiment stowed — " You needs must own." At once the swell Of anger in his bosom fell. He answers not, but eyes the sheen Of the blest bough, so long unseen. Turns round the vessel, dark as ink, And brings it to the river's brink ; Then bids the shadowy spectres flit That up and down the benches sit. Frees from its load the bark's deep womb, And gives the great yEneas room. Groans the strained craft of cobbled skin. And through rent seams the ooze drinks in. At length wise seer and hero brave Are safely ferried o'er the wave. And landed on the further bank, 'Mid formless slime and marshweed dank. Lo ! Cerberus with three-throated bark Makes all the region ring, Stretched out along the cavern dark That fronts their entering. The seer perceived his monstrous head All bristling o'er with snakes uproused. And toward him flings a sop of bread With poppy-seed and honey drowsed. He with his triple jaws dispread Snaps up the morsel as it falls. Relaxes his huge frame as dead. And o'er the cave extended sprawls. BOOK VI. 205 The sentry thus in slumber drowned, ^neas takes the vacant ground, And quickly passes from the side Of the irremeable tide. Hark ! as they enter, shrieks arise, And wailing great and sore, The souls of infants uttering cries At ingress of the door, Whom, portionless of life's sweet bliss. From mother's breast untimely torn. The black day hurried to the abyss And plunged in darkness soon as born. Next those are placed whom slander's breath By false arraignment did to death. Nor lacks e'en here the law's appeal. Nor sits no judge the lots to deal. Sage Minos shakes the impartial urn. And calls a court of those below, The life of each intent to learn And what the cause that wrought them woe. Next comes their portion in the gloom Who guiltless sent themselves to doom, And all for loathing of the day In madness threw their lives away : How gladly now in upper air Contempt and beggary would they bear, And labor's sorest pain ! Fate bars the way : around their keep The slow unlovely waters creep And bind with ninefold chain. Next come, wide stretching here and there, The Mourning Fields : such name they bear. 2o6 THE ^NEID. Here those whose being tyrant love With slow consumption has devoured Dwell in secluded paths, embowered By shade of myrtle grove. Not e'en in death may they forget Their pleasing pain, their fond regret. Phaedra and Procris here are seen, And Eriphyle, hapless queen, Still pointing to the death-wound made By her fell son's unbated blade. Evadne and Pasiphae too Within that precinct meet the view : Laodamia there is found. And Caneus, woman now, once man, Condemned by fate's recurrent round To end where she began. 'Mid these among the branching treen Sad Dido moved, the Tyrian queen. Her death-wound ghastly yet and green. Soon as ^neas caught the view And through the mist her semblance knew, Like one who spies or thinks he spies Through flickering clouds the new moon rise. The teardrop from his eyelids broke, And thus in tenderest tones he spoke : " Ah Dido ! rightly then I read The news that told me you were dead. Slain by your own rash hand ! Myself the cause of your despair ! Now by the blessed stars I swear. By heaven, by all that dead men keep In reverence here 'mid darkness deep. Against my will, ill-fated fair, I parted frona your land. BOOK VI. 207 The gods, at whose command to-day Through these dim shades I take my way, Tread the waste realm of sunless blight, And penetrate abysmal night, They drove me forth : nor could I know My flight would work such cruel woe. Stay, stay your step awhile, nor fly So quickly from ^Eneas' eye. Whom would you shun ? this brief space o'er, Fate suffers us to meet no more." Thus while the briny tears run down The hero strives to calm her frown, Still pleading 'gainst disdain : She on the ground averted kept Hard eyes that neither smiled nor wept. Nor bated more of her stern mood Than if a monument she stood Of firm Marpesian grain. At length she tears her from the place And hies her, still with sullen face. Into the embowering grove, Where her first lord, Sychasus, shares In tender interchange of cares. And gives her love for love ; .^neas tracks her as she flies. With bleeding heart and tearful eyes. Then on his journey he proceeds : And now they gain the furthest meads, The place which warriors haunt ; There sees he Tydeus, and the heir Of the Arcadian nymph, and there Adrastus pale and gaunt. There Trojan ghosts in battle slain. Whose dirge was loud in upper sky : 2o8 THE ufT^NBID. The chieftain knows the shadowy train, And heaves a melancholy sigh : Glaucus and Medon there they meet, Antenor's offspring, famed in war, Thersilochus and Polyphete Who dwelt in Ceres' hallowed seat. And old Idaeus, holding yet The armor and the car. They cluster round their ancient friend ; No single view contents their eye : They linger, and his steps attend, And ask him how he came, and why. But Agamemnon's chivalry, When gleaming through the shade The hero and his arms they see. Are wildered and dismayed : Some huddle in promiscuous rout As erst at Troy they sought the fleet • Some feebly raise the battle-shout ; Their straining throat the thin tones flout. Unformed and incomplete. Now Priam's son confronts his sight, Deiphobus, in piteous plight, His body gashed and torn, His ears cut off, his comely face Seamed o'er with wounds that mar its grace, Ears lopped, and nostrils shorn. Him, as he cowered, and would conceal The ravage of the cruel steel. The chief scarce knew : then, soon as knovm, He hails him thus in friendly tone : " Deiphobus armipotent. Of mighty Teucer's high descent. What foe has had his will so far Your person thus to maim and mar? BOOK VI. 209 Fame told me that with slaying tired Upon the night of Troy's last sleep, You sank exhausted on a heap Of Grecian carnage, and expired. Then I upon Rhoetean ground Upraised an empty funeral mound And called your shade thrice o'er. Your name, your arms the spot maintain : Yourself, poor friend, I sought in vain, To give you, ere I crossed the main, A tomb on Ilium's shore." " Nay, gentle friend " said Priam's son " Your duty nought has left undone : Deiphobus's dues are paid And satisfied his mournful shade. No ; 'twas my fate and the foul crime Of Sparta's dame that plunged me here : She bade me bear through after time These memories of her dalliance dear. In what a dream of false delight We Trojans spent our latest night You know : nor need I idly tell What recollection minds too well. When the fell steed with fatal leap Sprang o'er Troy's wall and scaled the steep, And brought in its impregnate womb The armed host that wrought our doom. An orgie dance she chose to feign. Led through the streets a matron train, And from the turret, torch in hand. Gave signal to the Grecian band. I, wearied out, had laid my head On our unhappy bridal bed. Sunk in a lethargy of sleep. Most like to death, so calm, so deep. 2IO THE y^NBlD. Meantime my virtuous wife removed All weapons from the house away ; My sword, so oft in need approved, She took from where the bolster lay ; Then opes the palace-door, and calls Her former lord within the walls, Thinking, forsooth, so fair a prize Would blind a dazzled lover's eyes, And patriot zeal might thus efface The memory of her old disgrace. Why lengthen out the tale ? they burst The chamber-door, that twain accurst, bolides his comrade, still The ready counsellor of ill. Ye gods, to Greece the like repay, If pious are these lips that pray ! But you, what chance, I fain would know, Has led you living down below? Come you by ocean-wanderings driven, Or sent by warning voice from heaven? What stress of fortune brings you here Through sunless regions, waste and drear?" Thus while they talked, day's car on high Had passed the summit of the sky ; And so perchance had worn away The period of the travellers' stay, But the good Sibyl thus in brief. As comrade might, bespoke the chief: "^neas, night approaches near : While we lament, the hours career. Here, at the spot where now we stand, The road divides on either hand ; The right, which skirts the walls of Dis, Conducts us to the fields of bliss : BOOK VI. 211 The left gives sinners up to pain, And leads to Tartarus' guilty reign." " Dread seer," Deiphobus replies, " Forgive, nor let thine anger rise. The shadowy circle I complete, And seek again my gloomy seat. Pass on, proud boast of Ilium's line, And find a happier fate than mine." Thus he ; and as the words he said He turned, and in an instant fled. Sudden ^neas turns his eyes. When 'neath the left-hand cliff he spies The bastions of a broad stronghold, Engirt with walls of triple fold : Fierce Phlegethon surrounds the same, Foaming aloft with torrent flame. And whirls his roaring rocks : In front a portal stands displayed, On adamantine columns stayed : Nor mortal nor immortal foe Those massy gates could overthrow With battle's direst shocks. An iron tower of equal might In air uprises steep : Tisiphone, in red robes dight. Sits on the threshold day and night With eyes that know not sleep. Hark ! from within there issue groans, The cracking of the thong. The clank of iron o'er the stones Dragged heavily along, ^neas halted, and drank in With startled ear the fiendish din : 212 THE .^NBID. " What forms of crime are these? " he cries " What shapes of penal woe? What piteous wails assault the skies? O maid ! I fain would know." " Brave chief of Troy," returned the seer, " No soul from guilt's pollution clear May yon foul threshold tread : But me when royal Hecat made Controller of the Avernian shade, The realms of torture she displayed, And through their horrors led. Stern monarch of these dark domains, The Gnosian Rhadamanthus reigns : He hears and judges each deceit, And makes the soul those crimes declare Which, glorying in the empty cheat. It veiled from sight in upper air. Swift on the guilty, scourge in hand, Leaps fell Tisiphone, and shakes Full in their face her loathly snakes. And calls her sister band. Then, not till then, the hinges grate. And slowly opes the infernal gate. See you who sits that gate to guard ? What presence there keeps watch and ward ? Within, the Hydra's direr shape Sits with her fifty throats agape. Then Tartarus with sheer descent Dips 'neath the ghost-world twice as deep As towers above earth's continent The height of heaven's Olympian steep. 'Tis there the eldest born of earth. The children of Titanic birth. Hurled headlong by the lightning's blast. Deep in the lowest g^lf are cast. BOOK VI. 213 Aloeus' sons there met my eyes, Twin monsters of enormous size, Who stormed the gate of heaven, and strove From his high seat to pull down Jove. Salmoneus too I saw in chains, The victim of relentless pains. While Jove's own flame he tries to mock And emulate the thunder-shock. By four fleet coursers chariot-borne And scattering brands in impious scorn Through Elis' streets he rode. All Greece assisting at the show. And claimed of fellow-men below The honors of a God : Fond fool ! to think that thunderous crash - And heaven's inimitable flash Man's puny craft could counterfeit With rattling brass and horsehoofs' beat. Lo ! from the sky the Almighty Sire The levin-bolt's authentic fire 'Mid thickest darkness sped (No volley his of pine-wood smoke), And with the inevitable stroke Despatched him to the dead. There too is Tityos the accurst. By earth's all-fostering bosom nurst : O'er acres nine from end to end His vast unmeasured limbs extend : A vulture on his liver preys : The liver fails not nor decays : Still o'er that flesh, which breeds new pangs, With crooked beak the torturer hangs. Explores its depth with bloody fangs, And searches for her food ; Still haunts the cavern of his breast, Nor lets the filaments have rest, To endless pain renewed. 214 THE ^■ENBID. Why should I name the Lapith race, Pirithous and Ixion base ? A frowning rock their heads o'ertops, Which ever nods and almost drops : Couches where golden pillars shine Invite them freely to recline, And banquets smile before their eyne With kingly splendor proud : When lo ! fell malice in her mien, Beside them lies the Furies' queen : From the rich fare she bars their hand, Thrusts in their face her sulphurous brand, And thunders hoarse and loud. Here those who wronged a brother's love. Assailed a sire's grey hair, Or for a trustful client wove A treachery and a snare. Who wont on hoarded wealth to brood, In sullen selfish solitude, Nor called their friends to share the good (The most in number they). With those whom vengeance robbed of life For guilty love of other's wife, And those who drew the unnatural sword, Or broke the bond 'twixt slave and lord. Await the reckoning-day. Ask not their doom, nor seek to know What depth receives them there below. Some roll huge rocks up rising ground, Or hang, to whirling wheels fast bound : There in the bottom of the pit Sits Theseus, and will ever sit : And Phlegyas warns the ghostly crowd. Proclaiming through the shades aloud, ' Behold, and learn to practise right. Nor do the blessed gods despite.' BOOK VI. 215 This to a tyrant master sold His native land for cursed gold, Made laws for lucre and unmade : That dared his daughter's bed to climb : All, all essayed some monstrous crime. And perfected the crime essayed. No — had I e'en a hundred tongues A hundred mouths, and iron lungs, Those types of guilt I could not show, Nor tell the forms of penal woe." So spoke the wise Amphrysian dame : " Now to the task for which we came : Come, make we speed " she cries : " I see the work of Cyclop race : The archway fronts us, face to face. Where custom wills that we should place Our precious golden prize." She ended : side by side they pace Along the region drear, Pass swiftly o'er the mediate space, And to the gate draw near. yEneas takes the entrance-way, Grasps eagerly the lustral spray, With pure dew sprinkles limbs and brow And on the door sets up the bough. Thus having soothed the queen of Dis, They reached the realms of tranquil bliss, Green spaces, folded in with trees, A paradise of pleasances. Around the champaign mantles bright The fulness of purpureal light ; Another sun and stars they know. That shine like ours, but shine below. 2l6 THE ySNEID. There some disport their manly frames In wrestling and palaestral games, Strive on the grassy sward, or stand Contending on the yellow sand : Some ply the dance with eager feet And chant responsive to its beat. The priest of Thrace in loose attire Makes music on his seven-stringed lyre ; The sweet notes 'neath his fingers trill. Or tremble' 'neath his ivory quill. Here dwell the chiefs from Teucer sprung, Brave heroes, born when earth was young, Ilus, Assaracus, and he Who gave his name to Dardany. Marvelling, yEneas sees from far The ghostly arms, the shadowy car. Their spears are planted in the mead : Free o'er the plain their horses feed : Whate'er the living found of charms In chariot and refulgent arms, Whate'er their care to tend and groom Their glossy steeds, outlives the tomb. Others along the sward he sees Reclined, and feasting at their ease With chanted Paeans, blessed souls. Amid a fragrant bay-tree grove. Whence rising in the world above Eridanus 'twixt bowering trees His breadth of water rolls. Here sees he the illustrious dead Who fighting for their country bled ; Priests, who while earthly life remained Preserved that life unsoiled, unstained ; Blest bards, transparent souls and clear. Whose song was worthy Phcfibus' ear; BOOK VI. 217 Inventors, who by arts refined The common life of human kind, With all who grateful memory won By services to others done : A goodly brotherhood, bedight With coronals of virgin white. There as they stream along the plain The Sibyl thus accosts the train, Musaeus o'er the rest, for he Stands midmost in that company. His stately head and shoulders tall O'ertopping and admired of all : " Say, happy souls, and thou, blest seer, In what retreat Anchises bides : To look on him we journey here, Across the dread Avernian tides." An4 answer to her quest in brief Thus made the venerable chief; " No several home has each assigned ; We dwell where forest pathways wind, Haunt velvet banks 'neath shady treen. And meads with rivulets fresh and green. But climb with me this ridgy hill. Yon path shall take you where you will ' He said, and led the way, and showed The fields of dazzling light : They gladly choose the downward road. And issue from the height. But sire Anchises 'neath the hill Was calmly scanning at his will The souls unborn now prisoned the»"e. One day to pass to upper air ; There as he stood, his wistful ey» Marked all his future progeny, 2i8 THE .^NEID. Their fortunes and their fates assigned, The shape, the mien, the hand, the mind. Soon as along the green he spied yEneas hastening to his side, With eager act both hands he spread, And bathed his cheeks with tears, and said : " At last ! and are you come at last? Has love the perilous road o'erpast, That love, so tried of yore ? And may I hear that well-known tone, And speak in accents of my own. And see that face once more? Ah yes ! I knew the hour would come : I pondered o'er the days' long sum. Till anxious care the future knew : And now completion proves it true. What lands, what oceans have you crossed ! By what a sea of perils tossed ! ■How oft I feared the fatal charm Of Libya's realm might work you harm ! " But he : " Your shade, your mournful shade, Appearing oft, my purpose swayed To visit this far place : My ships are moored by Tyrrhene brine : O father, link your hand with mine. Nor fly your son's embrace ! " He said, and sorrow, as he spoke, In torrents from his eyelids broke. Thrice strove the son his sire to clasp ; Thrice the vain phantom mocked his grasp. No vision of the drowsy night. No airy current, half so light. Meantime ^neas in the vale A sheltered forest sees. Deep woodlands, where the evening gale Goes whispering through the trees, BOOK VI, 219 And Lethe river, which flows by Those dwellings of tranquillity. Nations and tribes, in countless ranks, Were crowding to its verdant banks : As bees afield in summer clear Beset the flowerets far and near And round the fair white lilies pour : The deep hum sounds the champaign o'er, ^neas, startled at the scene, Asks wondering what the noise may mean, What river this, or what the throng That crowds so thick its banks along. His sire replies : " The souls are they Whom Fate will reunite to clay : There stooping down on Lethe's brink A deep oblivious draught they drink. Fain would I muster in review Before your eyes that shadowy crew. That you, their sire, may joy with me To think of new-found Italy." " O father ! and can thought conceive That happy souls this realm would leave, And seek the upper sky, With sluggish clay to reunite ? This direful longing for the light. Whence comes it, say, and why ? " " Learn then, my son, nor longer pause In wonder at the hidden cause," Replies Anchises, and withdraws The veil before his eye. " Know first, the heaven, the earth, the main, The moon's pale orb, the starry train, Are nourished by a soul, A bright intelligence, which darts Its influence through the several parts And animates the whole. 220 THE .^NEID. Thence souls of men and cattle spring, And the gay people of the wing, And those strange shapes that ocean hides Beneath the smoothness of his tides. A fiery strength inspires their lives, An essence that from heaven derives, Though clogged in part by limbs of clay, And the dull ' vesture of decay.' Hence vs'ild desires and grovelling fears, And human laughter, human tears : Immured in dungeon-seeming night. They look abroad, yet see no light. Nay, when at last the life has fled. And left the body cold and dead. E'en then there passes not away The painful heritage of clay ; Full many a long contracted stain Perforce must linger deep in grain. So penal sufferings they endure For ancient crime, to make them pure : Some hang aloft in open view For winds to pierce them through and through, While others purge their guilt deep-dyed In burning fire or whelming tide. Each for himself, we all sustain The durance of our ghostly pain ; Then to Elysium we repair. The few, and breathe this blissful air : Till, many a length of ages past. The inherent taint is cleansed at last. And nought remains but ether bright, The quintessence of heavenly light. All these, when centuries ten times told The wheel of destiny have rolled. The voice divine from far and wide Calls up to Lethe's river-side, BOOK VI. 22T That earthward they may pass once more Remembering not the things before, And with a blind propension yearn To fleshly bodies to return." Anchises spoke, and with him drew v£neas and the Sibyl too Amid the shadowy throng. And mounts a hillock, whence the e)re Might form and countenance descry As each one passed along. " Now listen what the future fame Shall follow the Dardanian name, What glorious spirits wait Our progeny to furnish forth : My tongue shall name each soul of worth, And show you of your fate. See you yon gallant youth advance Leaning upon a headless lance ? He next in upper air holds place, First offspring of the Italian race Commixed with ours, your latest child By Alban name of Silvius styled. Whom to your eye Lavinia fair In silvan solitude shall bear. King, sire of kings, by whom comes down Through Trojan hands the Alban crown. Nearest to him see Procas shine, The glory of Dardania's line. And Numitor and Capys too, And one that draws his name from you, Silvius yEneas, mighty he Alike in arms and piety. Should Fate's high pleasure e'er command The Alban sceptre to his land. 222 THE .^NEID. Look how they bloom in youth's fresh flower 1 What promise theirs of martial power ! Mark you the civic wreath they wear, The oaken garland in their hair? These, these are they, whose hands shall crown The mountain heights with many a town. Shall Gabii and Nomentum rear, There plant Collatia, Cora here, And leave to after years their stamp On Bola and on Inuus' camp : Names that shall then be far renowned. Now nameless spots of unknown ground. There to his grandsire's fortune clings Young Romulus, of Mars' true breed ; From Ilia's womb the warrior springs, Assaracus' authentic seed. See on his helm the double crest. The token by his sire impressed. That marks him out betimes to share The heritage of upper air. Lo ! by his fiat called to birth Imperial Rome shall rise, Extend her reign to utmost earth, Her genius to the skies. And with a wall of girdling stone Embrace seven hills herself alone — Blest in an offspring wise and strong : So through great cities rides along The mighty Mother, crowned with towers Around her knees a numerous line, A hundred grandsons, all divine. All tenants of Olympian bowers. Turn hither now your ranging eye : Behold a glorious family. Your sons and sons of Rome : BOOK VI. 223 Lo ! Cassar there and all his seed, lulus' progeny, decreed To pass 'neath heaven's high dome. This, this is he, so oft the theme Of your prophetic fancy's dream, Augustus Caesar, Jove's own strain ; Restorer of the age of gold In lands where Saturn ruled of old : O'er Ind and Garamant extreme Shall stretch his boundless reign. Iiook to that land which lies afar Beyond the path of sun or star. Where Atlas on his shoulder rears The burden of the incumbent spheres. Egypt e'en now and Caspia hear The muttered voice of many a seer. And Nile's seven mouths, disturbed with feai, Their coming conqueror know : Alcides in his savage chase Ne'er travelled o'er so wide a space. What though the brass-hoofed deer he killed. And Erymanthus' forest stilled. And Lerna's depth with terror thrilled At twanging of his bow : Nor stretched his conquering march so far, Who drove his ivy-harnessed car From Nysa's lofty height, and broke The tiger's spirit 'neath his yoke. And shrink we in this glorious hour From bidding worth assert her power, Or can our craven hearts recoil From settling on Ausonian soil ? But who is he at distance seen With priestly garb and olive green? That reverend beard, that hoary hair The royal sage of Rome declare, 224 THE yEJSTBID. Who first shall round the city draw The limitary lines of law, Called forth from Cures' petty town To bear the burden of a crown. Then he whose voice shall break the rest That lulled to sleep- a nation's breast, And sound in languid ears the cry Of Tullus and of victory. Then Ancus, all too fain to sail E'en now before a favoring gale. Say, shall I show you face to face The monarchs of Tarquinian race. And vengeful Brutus, proud to wring The people's fasces from a king? He first in consul's pomp shall lift The axe and rods, the freeman's gift. And call his own rebellious seed For menaced liberty to bleed. Unhappy father ! howsoe'er The deed be judged by after days, His country's love shall all o'erbear, And unextinguished thirst of praise. There move the Decii, Drusus here, Torquatus too with axe severe, And great Camillus : mark him show Rome's standards rescued from the foe I But those who side by side you see In equal armor bright, Now twined in bonds of amity While yet they dwell in night, Alas ! how terrible their strife. If e'er they win their way to life. How fierce the shock of war. This kinsman rushing to the fight From castellated Alpine height, BOOK VI. 225 That leading his embattled might From furthest morning star ! Nay, children, nay, your hate unlearn, Nor 'gainst your country's vitals turn The valor of her sons : And thou, do thou the first refrain ; Cast down thy w^eapons on the plain, Thou, born of Jove's Olympian strain, In \yhom my lifeblood runs 1 One, victor in Corinthian war, Up Capitol shall drive his car. Proud of Achaeans slain : And one Mycenae shall o'erthrow, The city of the Atridan foe, And e'en ^acides destroy, Achilles' long-descended boy. In vengeance for his sires of Troy, And Pallas' plundered fane. Who, mighty Cato, Cossus, who Would keep your names concealed ? The Gracchi, and the Scipios two, The levins of the field, Serranus, o'er his furrow bowed, Or thee, Fabricius, poor yet proud? Ye Fabii, must your actions done The speed of panting praise outrun? Our greatest thou, whose wise delay Restores the fortune of the day. Others, I ween, with happier grace From bronze or stone shall call the face, Plead doubtful causes, map the skies. And tell when planets set or rise : But ye, my Romans, still control The nations far and wide IS 226 THE .MNBID. Be this your genius — to impose The rule of peace on vanquished foes, Show pity to the humbled soul, And crush the sons of pride." He ceased ; and ere their awe was o'er. Took up his prophecy once more : " Lo, great Marcellus ! see him tower With kingly spoils, in conquering power, The warrior host above ! He in a day of dire debate Shall 'stablish firm the reeling state. The Carthaginian bands o'erride, Break down the Gaul's insurgent pride. And the third trophy dedicate To Rome's Feretrian Jove." Then spoke ^neas, who beheld Beside the warrior pace A youth, full-armed, by none excelled In beauty's manly grace. But on his brow was nought of mirth, And his fixed eyes were dropped on earth : " Who, father, he, who thus attends Upon that chief divine ? His son, or other who descends From his illustrious line ? What whispers in the encircling crowd ! The portance of his steps how proud ! But gloomy night, as of the dead. Flaps her sad pinions o'er his head." The sire replies, while down his cheek The teardrops roll apace : " Ah son ! compel me not to speak The sorrows of our race ! That youth the Fates but just display To earth, nor let him longer stay ; BOOK VI. 227 With gifts like these for aye to hold, Rome's heart had e'en been overbold. Ah ! what a groan from Mars's plain Shall o'er the city sound ! How wilt thou gaze on that long train, Old Tiber, rolling to the main Beside his new-raised mound ! No youth of Ilium's seed inspires With hope as fair his Latian sires : Nor Rome shall dandle on her knee A nursling so adored as he. O piety ! O ancient faith ! O hand untamed in battle scathe ! No foe had lived before his sword. Stemmed he on foot the war's red tide Or with relentless rowel gored His foaming charger's side. Dear child of pity ! shouldst thou burst The dungeon-bars of Fate accurst. Our own Marcellus thou ! Bring lilies here, in handfuls bring : Their lustrous blooms I fain would fling : Such honor to a grandson's shade By grandsire hands may well be paid : Yet O 1 it 'vails not now ! " Mid such discourse, at will they range The mist-clad region, dim and strange. So when the sire the son had led Through all the ranks of happy dead. And stirred his spirit into flame At thought of centuries of fame, With prophet power he next relates The war that in the future waits, Italia's fated realm describes, Latinus' town, Laurentum's tribes, 228 THE ./SNEID. And tells him how to face or fly Each cloud that darkens o'er his sky. — Sleep gives his name to portals twain : One all of horn, they say, Through which authentic spectres gain Quick exit into day, And one which bright with ivory gleams, Whence Pluto sends delusive dreams. Conversing still, the sire attends The travellers on their road, And through the ivory portal sends From forth the unseen abode. The chief betakes him to the fleet. Well pleased again his crew to meet : Then for Caieta's port sets sail, Straight coasting by the strand : The anchors from the prow they hale : The sterns are turned to land. BOOK VII. ARGUMENT. King Latinus entertains ^neas, and promises him his only daughter, Lavinia, the heiress of liis crown. Turnus, being in love with her, favored by her mother, and stirred up by Juno and Alecto, breal^s the treaty which was made, and engages in his quarrel Mezentius, Camilla, Messa- pus, and many other of the neighboring princes, whose forces, and the names of their commanders, are particu< larly related. 23* BOOK VII. Thou too, Eneas' nurse of yore, In death hast glorified our shore, Caieta, honored dame : Still glory haunts thy place of rest : Marked by thy name, thy relics blest In the great country of the west Repose — if that be fame. But good yEneas, soon as paid Due tribute to the well-loved shade And funeral mound upreared, Waits till the seas grow calm at eve, Then spreads his sail, constrained to leave The haven, thus endeared. The breezes freshen toward the night. Nor doth the moon refuse Her guiding lamp : its tremulous light The glancing deep bestrews. Next, skirting still the shore, they run Fair Circe's magic coast along, Where she, bright daughter of the sun, Her forest fastness thrills with song. And for a nightly blaze consumes Rich cedar in her stately rooms. While, sounding shrill, the comb is sped From end to end adown the thread. 232 THE ^NEID. Thence hear they many a midnight roar : The lion strives to burst his cell : The raging bear, the foaming boar Alternate with the gaunt wolf's yell : Whom from the human form divine For malice' sake the ruthless queen Had changed by pharmacy malign To bristly hide and bestial mien. So lest the pious Trojan train Such dire enormity sustain, The harbor should they reach, or land On that inhospitable strand, The Ocean-god inflates their sails With breath of favorable gales, And speeds their flight, and bears them safe Where angry waves no longer chafe. The sea was reddening with the dawn : The queen of morn on high Was seen in rosy chariot drawn Against a safiron sky. When on the bosom of the deep The Zephyrs dropped at once to sleep, And, struck with calm, the tired oars strain Against the smooth unmoving main. Now from the deep .^neas sees A mighty grove of glancing trees. Embowered amid the silvan scene Old Tiber winds his banks between, And in the lap of ocean pours His gulfy stream, his sandy stores. Around, gay birds of diverse wing. Accustomed there to fly or sing, Weie fluttering on from spray to spray And soothing ether with their lay. BOOK VII. 233 He bids his comrades turn aside And landward set each vessel's head, And enters in triumphant pride The river's shadowy bed. Be with me, Goddess, while I tell What chiefs bore rule, what deeds befell, What Latium's early time, before The stranger landed on her shore, And wake the memory of the feud Which first her arras in blood imbued. be thy poef s guide, and aid His recollection, heavenly maid ! 1 sing of War's tempestuous tide. Of kings who perished in their pride, The Tyrrhene chivalry, and all Hesperia roused by battle's call. A loftier task the bard assays : The horizon broadens on his gaze. Latinus, old at length and grey, O'er town and realm held peaceful sway. Born of a nymph of Latian race From kingly Faunus' loved embrace. Picus was Faunus' sire : and he. Great Saturn, owes his birth to thee. No manly heir, so Heaven decreed, Preserved in life the royal seed ; E'en as it rose, in youth's fair day That progeny was reft away. One daughter stood to guard the throne To bridal age already grown : Full many a prince from Latian land And all Ausonia sought her hand. Young Turnus chief, to kings allied And comelier far than all beside, 234 THE .^NBID. Much favored of the queen, who strove With earnest zeal to speed his love : But prodigies with dire alarms Deny the maiden to his arms. Within the palace' centre bred An ancient tree of laurel stood : Long years of reverential dread Had gathered round its sacred wood : Men say 'twas by Latinus found When first he traced the castle's bound : He reared it from its native sod, Devoted to the Delphian god. And taught his settlers thence to claim For their new town Laurentum's name. To its high top a swarm of bees Came warping on the summer breeze : And, linking feet with feet, they sway In pendent cluster from the spray. "A stranger comes" exclaimed the seer " A foreign host : I see them near : The same the quarter of their flight, The same the region where they light : E'en now in plenitude of power They hold the city's topmost tower." Then too, as standing by her sire Lavinia tends the altar-fire. Her tresses — prodigy untold — Catch the fierce flame with eager hold, And on her beauteous head-tire preys The crackling stream of torrent blaze. Her royal locks are all alight. Her coronal, with jewels bright : Till, wrapt in smoke and glare, she showers Live sparkles through the palace bowers. With mingled wonder and affright The boding seers proclaimed the sight : BOOK VII. 231; Her fame, they said, should proudly blaze A streaming light to after days, But dim should be the nation's star, O'erclouded by a mighty war. The king, by prodigies distraught, His father Faunus' temple sought, A sacred grove displayed to sight Beneath Albunea's frowning height, Which echoes with a brawling stream. And breathes aloft sulphureous steam. Hither CEnotria's tribes repair. To seek heaven's help in man's despair ; Then, when the minister divine Has placed the offering on the shrine. And, seeking sleep, at midnight lain On the stripped skins of cattle slain. Strange shapes before his eyes appear. Strange voices whisper in his ear, He communes with the sons of bliss, Or talks with Acheroji's dark abyss. So now, when king Latinus came His parent god's response to claim, A hundred sheep he slew, and lay Stretched on their wool till night's decay, When sudden from the grove's deep gloom Burst on his ear the voice of doom : " Ambition not, my son, to pair With Latian prince thy royal heir, Nor satisfy an easy quest With nuptial bowers already drest : Lo ! foreign bridegrooms come, whose fame To heaven shall elevate our name : The sons who from their loins have birth Shall see one day the whole broad earth, 236 THE ySNEID. From main to main, from pole to pole Beneath them bow, beneath them roll." These words, at night's still hour addrest, Latinus locks not in his breast : Along Ausonia's country side The voice of fame had spread them wide Already when the Trojans moored Their fleet on Tiber's river-board. ./Eneas and the chiefs of Troy, And Ilium's hope, the princely boy, Their weary limbs at leisure laid Under a tree's alluring shade, Set forth the banquet, and bespread The sward beneath with cakes of bread (Jove gave the thought), and heap with store Of wilding fruit their wheaten floor. So when, all else consumed, at last The failure of their scant repast Compelled the wanderers to devour Their slender garniture of flour. Attack the fated round, nor spare The impress of the sacred square, " What ! eating up our boards beside?" In merry vein lulus cried. That word at once dissolved the spell : The father caught it as it fell. With warning look all utterance stilled, And marvelled at the sign fulfilled. Then "Hail, auspicious land" he cries " So long from Fate my due ! All hail, ye Trojan deities. To Trojan fortunes true ! At length we rest, no more to roam. Here is our country, here our home. BOOK VII. 237 For well I mind, my sire of old This secret of the future told : ' Whene'er on unknown shores you eat Your very boards for lack of meat, Then count your home already found : There build your town and bank it round/ Ay, this the lack his words forecast. And these the horrors of that fast. Which waited all the while, to close Our dreary catalogue of woes. Come then, and with the morrow's ray Explore we each his diverse w^ay. The natives who, and what the place, And where the city of the race. Now with full cups libation pour To mighty Jove, whom all adore. Invoke Anchises' blessed soul. And once again set on the bowl." Thus having said, he wreaths his brow With cincture of a leafy bough. Invokes the Genius of the spot. And Earth, of Gods the first begot. The Nymphs and Floods as yet unknown, And Night and Stars that gem her throne, And Ida's monarch Jove, And the great Mother, Fhrygia's fear. And last, his own two parents dear. One nether, one above. Thrice, as he prayed, from azure skies The Thunderer pealed aloud. And flushing shook before their eyes A red and golden cloud. Through Ilium's ranks the fame flies fast. The day has come shall found at last Their city's promised towers : 238 THE ^NBin. Exulting in the mighty sign, They spread the board, set on the wine, And crown the cup with flowers Soon as the moon at earliest birth Diffused her lustre o'er the earth. Each by a different path explores The town, the frontier, and the shores : And here they find Numicius' spring, Here Tiber flows, here dwells the king. This done, the monarch's grace to gain, ^neas sends a goodly train, A hundred chiefs of each degree, With wool-wreathed boughs from Pallas' tree, Rich presents to their hand commends, And bids them crave the dues of friends. At once the ambassadors obey : Their hasty steps despatch the way. Himself with narrow trench defines The rampart's meditated linesj And camp-like girds his city round With palisade and sloping mound. And now the chiefs, the way o'ercome, Before them rising tall See roofs and towers, the Latins' home, And pass beneath the wall. Before the town the youth at play In mimic contests speed the day, Direct the rapid car, or train The courser on the dusty plain, With vigor bend the pliant bow, Or to its mark the javelin throw, Ply the swift foot, or plant the blow : When riding up in full career A herald to the monarch's ear BOOK VII. 239 Reports that valiant chiefs are here Attired in garb unknown : He, hearing, gives the word to call The strangers to the audience-hall, And seats him on his throne. Upon the city's highest ground. With hundred columns compassed round, There rose a fane sublime ; 'Twas Picus' palace long ago, And sacred woods around it throw The awe of elder time. Here wont the monarchs to receive The royal staff, the fasces heave, An omen of their reign : Here met the council of debate. Here on high days the seniors sate At lengthening tables ranged in state To feast on cattle slain. There, formed of ancient cedar wood, A line of old forefathers stood ; Here Italus, Sabinus here Who taught them first the vine to rear (The mimic semblance still preserved The hook for pruning deftly curved) ; There ancient Saturn holds his place, And Janus with his double face, And many another hoary king E'en from the nation's earliest spring, And many a warrior, strong and brave. Who poured his blood his land to save. There too were spoils of bygone wars Hung on the portals, captive cars, Strong city-gates with massy bars, And battle-axes keen. 240 THE .^NEID. And plumy cones from helmets shorn, And beaks from vanquished vessels torn, And darts, and bucklers sheen. There with his bowed augurial wand And scanty robe with purple band, The sacred buckler in his hand, Sat Picus, horseman king. Who stirred of old the jealous flame Of Circe, wonder-working dame, And by her potent drugs became A bird of dappled wing. Such was the fane within whose walls The king enthroned the Trojans calls. And, thronging round him as they stand. With tranquil mien accosts the band : " Say, Dardans, for we know your name. Nor sail ye hither strange to Fame, What need has power to waft you o'er Such length of seas to this our shore? If stress of wind, or way mista'en. Or other suffering on the main, Has made you thread our stream, and moor Your vessels from its pleasant shore, Disdain not this our Latin cheer. But know the race to Saturn dear. Not righteous by constraint or fear. But freely virtuous, self-controlled By memory of the age of gold. Ay, now I mind, in earlier day Auruncan elders wont to say 'Twas hence that Dardanus your king For Phrygian land of old took wing. And reached the towns at Ida's base And northern Samos, styled of Thrace : BOOK VII. 241 From Corythus he went, and now He suns him on Olympus' brow, And when to heaven our altars fume, 'Mid other powers he claims his room." " Great King " Ilioneus made reply " Sage Faunus' princely progeny. We come not to your friendly coast By random gale o'er ocean tost, Nor land nor star has made us stray From our determined line of way : Of steady purpose one and all We flock beneath your city wall, Driven from an empire, greater none Within the circuit of the sun. Jove is our sire : to Jove's high race We, Dardans born, our lineage trace : Jove's seed, the monarch we obey, .(Eneas, sends us here to-day. How fierce a storm from Argos sent On Ida's plains its fury spent, How Fate in dire collision hurled The eastern and the western world. E'en he has heard, whom earth's last verge Just separates from the circling surge, And he who, to his kind unknown. Dwells midmost 'neath the torrid zone. Swept by that deluge o'er the foam For our lorn gods we ask a home : A belt of sand is all we crave. And man's free birthright, air and wave. We shall not shame your Latin crown. Nor light shall be your own renown. Nor time obliterate the debt, Nor Italy the hour regret When Troy with outstretched arms she met. 16 '42 THE .^NEID. I swear it by -Eneas' fate, By that right hand which makes him g^'eat, In peace and war approved alike A friend to aid, a foe to strike. Full oft have mighty nations — nay, Scorn not a suppliant's mean array. Nor deem that wreaths and lowly speech The freedom of our boast impeach — Full oft with zeal and earnest prayers Have nations wooed us to be theirs ; But heaven's high fate, with stern command. Impelled us still to this your land. Here Dardanus was born, and here Apollo bids our race return : To Tyrrhene Tiber points the seer And pure Numicius' hallowed urn. These presents too our hands convey. Scant relics of a happier day. From burning Ilium snatched away. From this bright gold before the shrine His sire Anchises poured the wine : With these adornments Priam sate 'Mid gathered crowds in kingly state, The sceptre and the diadem : Troy's women wrought the vesture's hem." Thus as Ilioneus moves his suit, Latinus' face is fixed and mute ; He sits as rooted to the ground. And turns his eyes in wonder round. Not Priam's crown nor purple wrought So deeply stirs his princely thought : His daughter's bed — on that he dwells. And Faunus' riddle spells and spells : Ay, this the chief the Fates prepare From foreign parts his throne to share, BOOK VII. 243 And hence the warrior race, whose sway Should make a subject world obey. At length with gladness he exclaims : " Speed, gracious Heaven, a parent's aims And thine own sign ! I grant your prayer, Kind guest, nor scorn the gifts you bear. You shall not lack, while mine the throne, Rich soil and plenty like your own. Let but ^neas, if he feel For us and ours so warm a zeal. Would he be friend and firm ally. Approach, nor shun our kindly eye : For know, that treaty may not stand Where king greets king and joins not hand. Now list, and to your monarch take What further answer here I make. A maiden child is mine, whose hand May mate with none of this our land. Thus heaven declares with many a sign. And voices from my father's shrine : Our fate, they say, has yet in store A bridegroom from a foreign shore. Whose mingling blood shall raise our name Above the empyrean frame. That he, your chief, is fortune's choice. So speaks my heart, my hope, my voice." He ceased, and bade be brought for all Fleet horses from his royal stall : Three hundred in the stable stood With glossy coat and fiery blood : — The servants hear, and straightway lead For every chief a gallant steed : A purple cloak each courser decks. And golden poitrels grace their necks : For Venus' son the monarch's care Provides a car and princely pair, 244 THE ySNEID. Twin horses of ethereal seed, Their nostrils breathing flames of fire, Derived from that clandestine breed By Circe stolen from her sire. So, cheered with gifts and courteous phrase, The Trojans take their homeward ways, And, mounted as they ride, report A friendly welcome from the court. Meantime from Argos journeying The consort of the almighty King, O'er far Pachynus as she flies, Looks down in prospect from the skies : She sees them in their hour of joy, yEneas and the crews of Troy : Already at their walls they toil. And trust them to the friendly soil. And leave the fleet behind : She halts, by keenest anguish stung. Shakes her dark brows, and thus gives tongue To her infuriate mind : " O thrice abhorred, accursed brood ! O Phrygian fates, with mine at feud ! And fell they on Sigean plain Those all innumerable slain? And were the captives truly ta'en. And were the bondmen bound ? The flame that fell on Ilium's tower, Say, could it Ilium's sons devour? Through circling fires and steely shower Their passage have they found. Aye, sooth, my arts have spent their streng^ ; My hate, full gorged, has slept at length — I, who could hound them o'er the foam When tossed and shaken from their home : On every sea, 'neath every sky. Where'er they turned them, there was I. BOOK VII. 245 The armories of air and main Were loosed on Troy, and loosed in vain. What vantaged me those powers of hurt, Charybdis, Scylla, and the Syrt? In Tiber's port they ride at ease And laugh at Juno and her seas. Yet Mars could sweep from earth's wide face All vestige of the Lapith race : Old Calydon the eternal Sire Surrendered to Diana's ire : What sin so grievous had they done, The Lapith race or Calydon ? But I, the Thunderer's awful bride, Who left, poor wretch, no art untried, Who dared a tliousand arms to wield, Must yield, and to ^neas yield. If strength like mine be yet too weak, I care not whose the aid I seek : What choice 'twixt under and above ? If Heaven be firm, the shades shall move. Grant that I cannot bar the way That leads him to his Latian sway. That fixed in destiny must stand The promise of Lavinia's hand : Yet just it were events so great For slow accomplishment should wait ; Yet may I make the monarchs twain Each mourner for a nation slain. So let them give and take them wives, The wedding's cost their people's lives. Behold your marriage dower, fair maid ! In Latium's blood and Troy's 'tis paid : Bellona at the appointed hour Shall light you to your bridal bower. Not Hecuba the only dame Whose womb bore fruit in nuptial flame : 246 THE .MNEID. Venus shall see her offspring dear Another Paris reappear, A torch rekindled to destroy E'en now the second birth of Troy." This said, with vengeance in her eyes From heaven to earth the goddess flies, And from the Furies' Stygian halls Alecto's baleful presence calls. To whom grim war and jealous strife And treacheries are the breath of life. E'en Pluto hates his offspring, e'en Her sister fiends the monster dread. So multiform her hideous mien, So thick the serpents round her head. Whom Juno then for aid entreats With words that kindle fiercer heats : " Vouchsafe me, virgin child of Night, This boon for my peculiar right, A service all thine own. Lest Juno's praise and worship fall From their exalted pedestal. Should Troy Italia's bounds beset And weave her hymenaeal net About Latinus' throne. Thou canst in hostile arms array Two brothers of one will. With rancorous hate and burning fray A peaceful homestead fill : Scourges are thine and funeral flames : Thou gloriest in a thousand names, A thousand means of ill. Stir up thy breast, with malice rife. Break the formed league, sow seeds of strife : Let youth and age with one accord Desire, demand, and seize the sword." BOOK VII. 247 Then, steeped in venom's direst gall, Alecto spreads her wing For Latium and the stately hall Of the Laurentian king. Alights, and sits her down before Amata's silent chamber-door : Who, musing on the new-come host And Turnus' hopes malignly crossed. Was seething o'er, unhappy queen, With woman's passion, woman's spleen. The goddess snatched a serpent, bred 'Mid the dark ringlets of her head. And hurled it at the dame. That she, made frantic by the smart Deep working in her inmost heart, Might set the house on flame. In glides the snake, unfelt, unseen, Thin robe and ivory breast between, And breathing in its poisonous breath, Enwraps her in a dream of death : Now with her golden necklace blends. Now from her fillet's length depends, With serpent gold her tresses binds. And smoothly round her person winds. So, when the viperous influence Is first distilling o'er the sense. Nor yet the soul has caught entire The fever of contagious fire. Gently, as mother might, she speaks. The hot tears rolling down her cheeks, Tears for her hapless daughter shed And Phrygia's hated bridal bed : " And shall a Dardan fugitive, O father, with Lavinia wive ? And will you not compassion take For daughter's, sire's, or mother's sake? 248 THE y^NEID. Ay, well I know, the first fair gale Shall see the faithless pirate sail, And bear from home the weeping maid, The prize of his triumphant raid. Not thus, forsooth, the Phrygian swain Made stealthy progress o'er the main, To Sparta won his way, and bore Fair Helen to the Idsean shore. Where now your sacred promise ? where The love you wont your own to bear. Or where that hand, whose friendly gn"asp The hand of Turnus oft would clasp ? If nought will serve for Latium's need But bridegroom sprung from foreign seed, And father Faunus' solemn best Sits heavy on your anxious breast. All climes that own not our command, So read I Fate, are foreign land. And Turnus, if enquiry trace The first beginnings of his race, Counts with his grandsires Argive kings, And from Mycenae's midmost springs." But when, essaying oft, she sees Latinus proof against her pleas, And now the deadly poison thrills Her veins, and all the woman fills, Then, maddened with its furious heats, She rages through the crowded streets, Like top that whirling 'neath the thong Is scourged by eager boys along Bent on their gamesome strife : With eddying motion it careers Round empty courts in circling spheres ; The beardless troop in strange amaze Upon the winged boxwood gaze : The lashes lend it life. BOOK VII. 240 So wildly, furiously she flies Through peopled towns 'neath wolfish eyes. Nay more, with fiercer frenzy spurred, • She feigns herself by Bacchus stirred, Betakes her to the woods, and hides The maid in leafy mountain-sides, To balk the Trojans and delay The dreaded hymenaeal day : And " Evoe Bacchus ! thou alone " (So shrills her wild ecstatic tone) " Art worthy of the fair : For thee she wields the ivied wand, For thee leads forth the dancers' band. For thee she tends her hair." Swift flies the heraldry of fame. And many another frenzied dame Comes forth, her spirit all on flame A new abode to seek : Their ancient homes they leave behind. Spread hair and shoulders to the wind. Or clad in skins from fawns new doffed Their vine-branch javelins raise aloft, With shrill ear-piercing shriek. She in the midst with frantic hand Uplifts a blazing pine-wood brand. And hymns aloud in solemn lay Her child and Turnus' marriage day ; Then rolling red her bloodshot eyes " Ho, Latian mothers ! " fierce she cries, " Give ear, where'er ye be : If, still to poor Amata kind, A mother's wrongs ye bear in mind. The fillet from your brows unbind. And rove the woods with me." Thus, armed with Bacchus' handspears keeiif Alecto goads the ill-starred queen, 250 THE .MNBIB. And drives her far from home of men. 'Mid silvan haunt and wild-beast's den. So when she sees the seeds of ill Have thriven obedient to her will, The royal house, the royal thought Alike to dire confusion brought, On dusky wings the goddess flies Where the bold Daunian's ramparts rise, The town which Danse built of yore. By headlong tempest blown ashore. Ardea the name that bygone race Bestowed upon their dwelling-place. And Ardea's name is honored yet. But Ardea's sun in gloom is set. There in his home at midnight deep Was Turnus lying wrapped in sleep. At once the crafty fiend lays by All signs of baleful deity : No Fury now, she makes her own The likeness of a wrinkled crone. Binds with a fillet tresses grey And twines them round with olive spray : She stands, transformed to Calybe, Priestess of Juno's temple she. And thus in simulated guise Presents her to the warrior's eyes : " Can Turnus rest and see his pain, His generous toil bestowed in vain? Lie still and see his kingly sway To Dardan settlers signed away? Latinus robs you of the fair. Withholds perforce her blood-bought dower, And searches out a foreign heir To throne him in the seat of power. BOOK VII. 251 Go, fight your fights' that win no thanks, Seek scorn amid the embattled field ; Go, mow them down, the Tuscan ranks. And Latium's tribes with safety shield. These words Saturnia's awfijl power Breathes in your ear in midnight's hour. Come, sound the glad alarm, and call The youth to arms without the wall ; Consume the Phrygian ships, that ride At anchor in our pleasant tide : 'Tis heaven's high will that gives command, And prompts to fight your ready hand. Nay, let Latinus' self, if yet He grudge the fair, nor own his debt, From late experience learn, and feel The might of Turnus, sheathed in steel." With scornful laughter in his eye The haughty youth thus made reply : " The fleet arrived in Tiber's stream Has not escaped me, as you deem : Why feign these terrors? well I ween Turnus is watched by Juno queen : 'Tis you, good dame, effete and old. Whom purblind age, o'ergrown with mould, Bemocks with visions of alarms Amid the clang of monarchs' arms. Yours is the task to tend the shrine And make your image look divine ; But leave to men, whose care they are, The mysteries of peace and war." These taunts enkindled into fire The furnace of Alecto's ire. Or ere he ceased, a trembling takes His frame ; his eyes are fixed as stone ; 252 THE ySNEID. So dire the hissing of her snakes, So ghastly grim the features shown ; She thrusts him back with angry glare As, faltering, further speech he tries, Uprears two serpents from her hair. And cracks her scorpion whip, and cries : " Behold the dame, grown o'er with mould, Whom dotage, impotent and old, Bemocks with visions of alarms Amid the clang of monarchs' arms ! My home is with the infernal king. And death and war in hand I bring." A fire-brand at the youth she throws : Lodged in his breast the pinew^ood glows With lurid light and dim : A giant terror breaks his sleep, And, bursting forth, big sweat-drops steep His body, bone and limb. " My sword ! my sword ! " he madly shrieks; His sword he through the chamber seeks And all the mansion o'er : Burns the fierce fever of the steel. The guilty madness warriors feel. And jealous wrath yet more : As when piled high a caldron round The wood-fire sends a crackling sound, And makes the waters start and bound. In wild turmoil with smoke and steam Seethes, hisses, froths the imprisoned stream. Till the vexed wave o'erleaps control, And vaporous clouds to heaven uproU. So, proudly trampling treaties down, He sounds a march to Latium's town : To king Latmus he will go. Protect the realm, expel the foe : BOOK VII. 253 Though Latium's force unite with Troy's Himself will bring the counterpoise. This said, to Heaven he makes appeal : The Rutule hosts with emulous zeal Their martial rage inflame : And one the chiefs young beauty fires. One kindles at his hero sires. One at his deeds of fame. While Turnus thus to fury fans The Rutules' warlike might, Alecto on her Stygian vans Turns to Troy's camp her flight. New cunning in her breast, a place She in the distance eyed. Where young lulus led the chase Along the river-side : Then sudden to his hounds' keen smell Presents the lure they know so well, A gallant stag to start : 'Twas thence a nation's sorrow flowed, And kindling into madness glowed The savage rustic heart. Of beauteous form and branching head A stag in human haunts was bred, From mother's milk withdrawn, By Tyrrheus and his children reared, Tyrrheus, who ruled the royal herd, The ranger of the lawn. Fair Silvia, daughter of the race, Its horns with wreaths would interlace, Comb smooth its shaggy coat, and lave Its body in the crystal wave. Tame and obedient, it would stray Free through the woods a summer's day. 254 THE ^NEID. And home again at night repair E'en of itself, how late soe'er. So now 'twas wandering when the pack Gave tongue and followed on its track. As sheltered from the noontide beam It floated listless down the stream. Ambition fired Ascanius too ; The shaft he aimed, the bow he drew : Fate guides his hand : with whirring speed Through flank and belly flies the reed. Homeward the wounded creature fled, Took refuge in the well-known shed, And bleeding, crying as for aid, Through all the house its moaning made. With flat hand smiting on each arm Poor Silvia g^ves the first alarm, And calls the rural folk : They — for the fury-pest unseen Is lurking in the woodland green — Or ere she deems, are close at hand ; One grasps a charred and hardened brand, And one a knotted oak : Whate'er the seeker's haste may find Does weapon's work for fury blind. Stout Tyrrheus, as he splits in four With wedge on wedge a tree's tough core, Leaps forth, his hatchet still in hand. Arid, breathing rage, arrays his band. The goddess from her vantage tower Perceives, and seizes mischief's hour Flies to the summit of the stall, And thence shrills out the shepherd's call, With harsh Tartarean voice in air Pitching on high the horn's hoarse blare. That sound the forest line convulsed ; The long vibration throbbed and pulsed Through all the depth of wood : BOOK VII. 2<,t, 'Twas heard by Trivia's lake afar, Heard by the sulphurous waves of Nar And Velia's fountain flood ; And terror-stricken mothers pressed Their children closer to their breast. Now, gathering at the hideous sound, The rustics from the country round Snatch up their arms and run : The Trojan youth, their gates displayed. Stream forth to give Ascanius aid. And battle is begun. No longer now 'tis village feud. Waged with seared stakes and truncheons rude • Another game they try : 'Tis two-edged iron : swords and spears Bristie the field with spiky ears : Responsive \o the sun's appeal Flash glittering brass and burnished steel, And fling their rays on high : As when beneath the winds' first sweep The white foam gathers on the deep, The waters gradual rise. High and more high the billows grow. Till from the very depth below They mount into the skies. Young Almo, Tyrrheus' heir till then, Falls mid the foremost fighting men. By whizzing shaft laid low : Deep in his gullet lodged the death And choked the ways of voice and breath With life-blood's gushing flow : Around him many a warrior bleeds, And old Galaesus, as he pleads In vain for peace : no juster son Had fair Ausonia, richer none : 2S6 THE .^NEID. Each night within his cotes were penned Five flocks of sheep, five herds of cows, And his broad lands from end to end Were furrowed by a hundred ploughs. While these are killing thus and killed, The fiend, her promise now fulfilled, Soon as the first hot blood is drawn And war in thunder 'gins to dawn. Up from Hesperia flies, And riding on the rack of cloud. Thus with triumphant voice and proud To mighty Juno cries : " Behold, 'tis finished ! strife full-blown Has issued forth in fight : Now bid the hosts their hate atone And friendly treaty plight. The hands of Troy, thou seest, are dyed Deep in Ausonian blood ; A guerdon I will add beside. If so thy will holds good : The neighboring cities I will fill With thick-sown rumors rife, And wake in each unruly will The frantic lust of strife. Till aid they bring from every side, And battle's seeds be scattered wide.' Juno returns : " Enough is spread Of treachery and panic dread : The roots of war are firmly set : The fight is raging hilt to hilt : The arms that chance supplied are wet With taint of carnage newly spilt. Such be the hymenaeal ties That Venus' son shall solemnize With Latium's easy king ! BOOK VII. 257 For thee, beaven's monarch may not bear That longer thou in upper air Shouldst ply thine errant wing. Give place : if further chance betide, Myself the circumstance will guide." Saturnia spoke : the Fury spread Her serpent wings for flight, Dives to the regions of the dead, And leaves the upper light In mid Italia lies a place Retiring 'neath a mountain's base, Amsanctus' vale, pent in between Two wooded slopes of dusky green. While in the midst a torrent raves, As 'twixt the rocks it winds its waves. An awful cavern there men show. The very gorge of Dis below, And gulfs whence Acheron bursts to sight Ope jaws of pestilential night : There plunged the hateful fiend beneath, And earth and sky again took breath. Juno takes up the unfinished plan And perfects what the fiend began. Straight to the city from the plain The shepherds speed, and bear the slain, Young Almo in his comely grace And old Galaesus' mangled face, Make street and home with clamor ring, Implore the gods, adjure the king. Fierce Turnus takes the tide at flood : His loud voice swells the cry for blood That blazes up to heaven : " Strange slips defile the royal stem : The Phrygians share the diadem, Himself from Latium driven." 17 258 THE u^NEID. Then they whose dames are footing still In Bacchic frenzy wood and hill (Such power is in Amata's name) Come forth, and fan the martial flame. 'Gainst omens flashed before their eyes, 'Gainst warnings thundered from the skies, They cry for war, and early and late Besiege Latinus' palace-gate. Like rock engirdled by the sea, Like rock immovable is he Before the roaring tide : The wild waves bark about its base : Its mass sustains it still in place : Crags echo round : it gives no heed : And scattered foam and rent seaweed Fall from its rugged side. Powerless at length their rage to check, As things whirl on at Juno's beck. Appealing oft to soulless skies And deaf dumb gods, the father cries : " Alas ! the destinies prevail : We drifl: and drift before the gale : Ah wretched children ! yours the guilt, And yours the blood must needs be spilt. Thee, Turnus, thee the grim fiends wait : Thine agonizing vows too late Shall knock at heaven's relentless gate. For me, my rest is all assured. My bark within the haven moored : The shock that parts my aged breath But robs me of a happy death." He speaks, and in his chamber hides, While from his hand the sceptre slides. In Latium's old Hesperian day An ancient rule of yore had sway ; BOOK VII. 25Q To Alba's cities thence it passed ; Now Rome, earth's mistress, holds it fast, Whether 'gainst Thrace they turn their spears. Or bring the Arab blood and tears. Or, following on the daystar's track, From Parthia claim the standards back. Two gates there stand of War — 'twas so Our fathers named them long ago — The war-god's terrors round them spread An atmosphere of sacred dread : A hundred bolts the entrance guard. And Janus there keeps watch and ward. These, when his peers on war decide, The consul, all in antique pride Of Gabine cincture deftly tied And purple-striped attire, With grating noise himself unbars, And calls aloud on Father Mars : The warrior train takes up the cry, And horns with brazen symphony Their hoarse assent conspire. 'Twas thus they bade the king proclaim Fierce war against the Trojan name, And ope the gates of doom : The good old sire with hand and eye Shrank from the hated ministry And deeper plunged in gloom. When lo ! in person from above Descends the imperial spouse of Jove, Smote the barred gates, and backward rolled On jarring hinge each bursten fold. Ausonia, all inert before. Takes fire and blazes to the core : And some on foot their march essay, Some, mounted, storm along the way ; To arms ! cry one and all : 26o THE yENBID. With unctuous lard their shields they clean And make their javelins bright and sheen, Their axes on the whetstone grind ; Look how that banner takes the wind ! Hark to yon trumpet's call ! Five mighty towns, their anvils set, With emulous zeal their weapons whet : Crustumium, Tibur the renowned, And strong Atina there are found. And Ardea, and Antemnae crowned With turrets round her wall. Steel caps they frame their brows to fit. And osier twigs for bucklers knit : Or twist the hauberk's brazen mail And mould them greaves of silver pale : To this has shrunk the homage paid Erewhile to ploughshare, scythe, and spade ! Each brings his father's battered blade And smelts in fire anew : And now the clarions pierce the skies : From rank to rank the watchword flies : This tears his helmet from the wall. That drags his war-horse from the stall, Dons three-piled mail and ample shield. And girds him for the embattled field With falchion tried and true. Now, Muses, ope your Helicon, The gates of song unfold. What chiefs, what tribes to war came on In those dim days of old, What sons were then Italia's pride. And what the arms that blazed so wide : For ye are goddesses : full well Your mind takes note, your tongue can tell : BOOK VII. 261 The far-off whisper of the years Scarce reaches our bewildered ears. Mezentius first from Tyrrhene coast, Who mocks at heaven, arrays his host, And braves the battle's storm ; His son, young Lausus, at his side, Excelled by none in beauty's pride, Save Turnus' comely form : Lausus, the tamer of the steed. The conqueror of the silvan breed. Leads from Agylla's towers in vain A thousand youths, a valiant train : Ah happy, had the son been blest In hearkening to his sire's behest, Or had the sire from whom he came Had other nature, other name ! Next drives along the grassy meads His palm-crowned car and conquering steeds Fair Aventinus, princely heir Of Hercules the brave and fair. And for his proud escutcheon takes His father's Hydra and her snakes. 'Twas he that priestess Rhea bare, A stealthy birth, to upper air, 'Mid shades of woody Aventine Mingling her own with heavenly blood, When triumph-flushed from Geryon slain Alcides touched the Latian plain. And bathed Iberia's distant kine In Tuscan Tiber's flood. Long pikes and poles his bands upreai. The shapely blade, the Sabine spear. Himself on foot, with lion's skin. Whose long white teeth with ghastly grin Clasp like a hemlet brow and chin, 262 THE yENEID. Joins the proud chiefs in rude attire, And waves the emblem of his sire. From Tibur's walls twin brothers came, The town that bears Tiburtus' name. Bold Coras and Catillus strong : Through thick-rained darts they storm along. The foremost in the fray : As when two cloud-bom Centaurs leap Down Homole or Othrys' steep, The forest parts before their sweep. And crashing trees give way. Nor lacked there to the embattled power The founder of Praeneste's tower. Brave Cseculus, by all renowned As Vulcan's son, 'mid embers found And monarch of the rustics crowned. Beneath him march his rural train, Whom high Praeneste's walls contain, Who dwell in Gabian Juno's plain. Whose haunt is Anio's chilly flood And Hemic rocks, by streams bedewed, Who till Anagnia's bosom green Or drink of father Amasene. Not all are furnished for the war With ample shield or sounding car. Some sling lead bullets o'er the field. Some javelins twain in combat wield. A cap of fur protects their head By spoil of tawny wolf supplied ; Their left foot bare, on earth they tread ; The right is cased in raw bull-hide. Messapus, tamer of the steed, The Ocean-jnonarch's mighty seed, BOOK VII. 263 Whom none might harm, so willed his sire, With force of iron or of fire. Awakes his people's slumbering zeal Long time unused to war's appeal. And from the scabbard bares the steel. With him Fescennia's armed train. The dwellers in Falerii's plain, Who hold Soracte's lofty hill Or fair Flavinia's cornland till, Capena's woods their dwelling make Or haunt Ciminius' mount and lake. With measured pace they march along, And make their monarch's deeds their song , Like snow-white swans in liquid air. When homeward from their food they fare. And far and wide melodious notes Come rippling from their slender tliroats. While the broad stream and Asia's fen Reverberate to the sound again. Sure none had thought that countless crowd A mail-clad company ; It rather seemed a dusky cloud Of migrant fowl, that, hoarse and loud. Press landward from the sea. Lo ! Clausus there, the Sabines' boast, Leads a g^eat host, himself a host : From whom the Claudii fill the land Since Rome with Sabines joined her hand. With him the Amiternians came And Cures' sons of ancient name. The squadron that Eretum guards And green Mutusca's olive-yards. Those whom Nomentum's city yields, Who till Velinus' Roseau fields. Who Tetrica's rude summit climb Or on Severus sit sublime, 264 THE .^NEID Oi dwell where runs Himella by Casperia's walls and Foruli, Who Tiber haunt and Fabaris' banks, Whom Nursia sends to battle down From her cold home, Hortinian ranks And Latian tribes of old renown, With those whom Allia's stream ill-starred Flows through, dividing sward from sward ; Thick as the Libyan billows swarm When fell Orion sets in storm. Or as the sun-baked ears of grain In HjEmus' field or Lycia's plain : Their bucklers rattle, and the ground Qiiakes, startled by their footfall's sound. Halaesus, Agamemnon's seed. Sworn foe to all of Trojan breed. Yokes his swift horses to the car, And brings his hosts to Turnus' war. The rustic tribes whose ploughshare tills The vine-clad slopes of Massic hills. Or whom from plain or mountain height Auruncan fathers send to fight, Who fertile Cales leave behind Or where Vulturnian waters wind, The dwellers on Saticule's rock And all the hardy Oscan stock. Bright javelins they are wont to fling, But fit them with a leathern string : A shield protects the good left hand. And curved like pruner's hook the brand They wield when foot to foot they stand. Nor, CEbalus, shalt thou pass by Unnamed in this our minstrelsy, BOOK VII. 265 Born to old Telon, Caprese's king, By Naiad of Sebethus' spring : The son contemned his sire's domain, And stretched o'er neighboring lands his reign. Sarrastes' tribes his rule obey. And fields where Sarnus' waters play, Who Batulum and Rufrse hold Or till Celennaj's fruitful mould, Or those whom fair Abella sees Down-looking through her apple-trees, All wont in Teuton sort to throw Long beamy lances 'gainst the foe : Their helm of bark from cork-tree peeled, Of brass their sword, of brass their shield. Thee too steep Nersse sends to war. Brave Ufens, born 'neath happy star : ' Hard as their clods the ^quian race. Inured to labor in the chase : In armor sheathed, they till their soil. Heap foray up, and live by spoil. Came too from old Marruvia's realm. An olive-garland round his helm, Bold Umbro, priest at once and knight By king Archippus sent to fight : Who baleful serpents knew to steep By hand and voice in charmed sleep, Soothed their fierce wrath with subtlest skill, And from their bite drew off the ill. But ah ! his medicines could not heal The death-wound dealt by Dardan steel : His slumberous charms availed him nought Nor herbs on Marsian mountains sought And cropped with magic shears : 266 THE ./^NEID. For thee Anguitia's woody cave, For thee the glassy Fucine wave, For thee the lake shed tears. From green Aricia, bent on fame, Hippolytus' fair offspring came, In lone Egeria's forest reared, Where Dian's shrine is loved and feared. For lost Hippolytus, 'tis said, By cruel stepdame's cunning dead. Dragged by his frightened steeds, to sate His angry sire's vindictive hate. Was called once more to realms above, By Pseon's skill and Dian's love. Then Jove, incensed that man should rise From darkness to the upper skies, The leech that wrought such healing hurled With lightning down to Pluto's world. But Trivia kind her favorite hides And to Egeria's care confides, To live in woods obscure and lone, And lose in Virbius' name his own. 'Tis thence e'en now from Trivia's shrine The horn-hoofed steeds are chased. Since, scared by monsters of the brine, The chariot and the youth divine They tumbled on the waste. Yet ne'ertheless with horse and car His dauntless son essays the war. In foremost rank see Turnus move, His comely head the rest above : On his tall helm with triple cone Chimsera in relief is shown ; The monster's gaping jaws expire Hot volumes of .^tnsean fire : BOOK VJI. 267 And still she flames and raves the more The deeper floats the field with gore. With bristling hide and lifted horns lo, all gold, his shield adorns, Memorial grave and stern ; There Argus stands, her guard and foe, And Inachus her sire lets flow The river from his urn. A cloud of footmen at his back, And shielded hosts the plain make black : Auruncans, Argives, brave and bold, Rutulians and Sicanians old, Sacranians thirsting for the field, Labici with enamelled shield ; Who Tiber's lawns with ploughshare score And pure Numicius' hallowed shore, Subdue Rutulian slopes, and till Circeii's venerable hill : Where Anxur boasts her guardian Jove And greenly blooms Feronia's grove ; Where Satura's unlovely pool In sullen quiet sleeps, And Ufens winds through valleys cool And plunges in the deeps. Last marches forth for Latium's sake Camilla fair, the Volscian maid, A troop of horsemen in her wake In ponip of gleaming steel arrayed ; Stem warrior queen ! those tender hands Ne'er plied Minerva's ministries : A virgin in the fight she stands Or winged winds in speed outvies. Nay, she could fly o'er fields of grain Nor crush in flight the tapering wheat. 268 THE .^NBID. Or skim the surface of the main Nor let the billows touch her feet. Where'er she moves, from house and land The youths and ancient matrons throng, And fixed in greedy wonder stand Beholding as she speeds along : How fair her scarf in purple dipped, How clasps the gold her tresses' flow : Her pastoral wand with steel is tipped, And Lycian are her shafts and bow. BOOK VIII ARGUMENT. The war being now begun, both the generals make ah possible preparations. Tumus sends to Diomede ; ^neas goes in person to beg succors from Evander and the Tus- cans. Evander receives him kindly, furnishes him with men, and sends bis son Pallas with him. Vulcan, at the request of Venus, makes arms for her son ^nests, and draws on his shield the most memorable actions of his posterity. 271 BOOK VIII. When Turnus had war's ensign shown From high Laurentum's tower, And made the horns with hoarse harsh tone Give forth their voice of power, His fiery coursers chafed, and pealed The din of battle on his shield, Dull hearts are startled from their sloth ; All Latium joins in solemn oath, And kindles in an hour. Messapus, Ufens, 'mid the first. And fierce Mezentius, scoffer cursed, Raise succor, and from cultured plains Sweep to the camp the sturdy swains. And Venulus betimes is sped On embassy to Diomed, To crave for help, and tell the tale That Troy has entered Latium's pale,, .i^neas with his gods is there. And boasts himself the kingdom's heir, While many a nation joins his side. And Latium feels his name spread wide. What prize he seeks from war, what end, Should Fortune smile, his hopes intend. King Diomed may fitlier scan Than Turnus or Latinus can. 272 THE uMNBin. So Latium fares : the Trojan sees, And fluctuates in perplexities : By thousand warring cares distraught This way and that he whirls his thought. As flashes light upon the face Of water in a brazen vase From sun or lunar rays : From spot to spot behold it dart, And now it takes an upward start And on the ceiling plays. Night came : all life was buried deep, Man, beast, and bird, in placid sleep : The chief beneath the cope of heaven. His heart with thought of battle riven, His limbs beside the river throws And courts the quiet of repose. When rising through the poplar wood Appears the genius of the flood : A grey gauze mantle wrapped him round ; With shadowy reed his brows were crowned : Then thus he spoke, and laid to rest The cares that racked the hero's breast. " O seed of Heaven, who bring once more Lost Pergamus to this our shore, And keep old Troy in life, Long looked for on Laurentian ground, Behold your home, your mansion found. Nor fear though foemen hem you round With menaces of strife. Heaven's anger is at length assuaged, And ceased the feud of Gods enraged. E'en now, lest haply you should deem My words the coinage of a dream, On woody banks before your eye A thirty-farrowed sow shall lie. BOOK VIII. 273 Her whole white length on earth stretched out, Her young, as white, her teats about. Sign that when thirty years come round White Alba shall Ascanius found. Not vain my song : now, how to speed In prosperous sort your pressing need, 'Tis mine to tell and yours to heed. Arcadians here, from Pallas born, To king Evander's service sworn. On mountain heights have built and walled A city, Pallanteum called. With Latium constant war they wage : Make them your friends, their aid engage. Myself will be your journey's guide And teach your oars to climb the tide. Up, goddess-born, this instant rise. And ere the starlight leaves the skies Make vows to Juno : overbear Her angry soul with gift and prayer. When conquest crowns you in the fight, I too will claim a patron's right. 'Tis I whose brimming flood you see Careering through the fruitful lea, Cerulean Tiber, first in love And dearest to the gods above. Lo here, arising from my bed, My stately home, the nations' head." He said, and sought the river's pit, While night and sleep ^neas quit. Up starts the chief, and turns his eyes In reverence to the orient skies. In hollowed palm the water takes. And thus his supplication makes : " Laurentian Nymphs, from whose pure blood The rivers have their birth, i3 274 THE .^NEID. Thou Tiber, with thy sacred flow, The beauty of the earth. Receive ^neas, and at length Abate the toils tliat waste his strength. Whate'er the source where, calm and still, Thou givest a thought to this our ill, Where'er thou spring'st to life divine. My gifts, my worship shall be thine. Blest power, o'er each Italian stream The horned monarch crowned supreme. Be near to succor us, and seal The omen that thy words reveal." This said, he chooses biremes two. Provides them oars, and arms the crew : When lo ! a sudden prodigy : A milk-white sow is seen Stretched with her young ones, white as she, Along the margent green, .^neas takes them, dam and brood. And o'er the altar pours their blood. To thee, great Juno, e'en to thee, High heaven's majestic queen. All night the Tiber calmed his flood, And stayed its onward course, and stood, That smooth might lie the watery floor. Nor aught impede the toiling oar. So speed they on 'mid joyful cries ; Careened, the vessels glide ; And waves and woods with strange surprise See glittering steel and painted keel Advancing up the tide. Still rowing on, they wear away The energies of night and day, O'erpass fiiU many a lengthy reach, 'Neath alder shade or spreading beech. BOOK VIII. 27c; And gently wind thick groves between That lend the wave a deeper green. The sun was at his midday height, When tower and rampire loom in sight, And dwellings thinly strown : Now to the skies Rome's power makes soar That city : then 'twas scant and poor, Evander's humble throne. Soon as they see, to land they steer Their ships, and to the town draw near. The Arcadian monarch chanced that day A high solemnity to pay Before the city, in a grove, To Hercules, the seed of Jove. His rustic senators are there. And Pallas too, his kingdom's heir, With censers charged : the spilt life-stream Sends up a sacrificial steam. Soon as the gallant ships they saw Mid the thick forest nearer draw In still swift cadence oared, A sudden terror takes their eyes : In wild confusion all uprise And quit the banquet-board. Bold Pallas chides their panic start, Takes in his hand a beamy dart. And from a mound afar " Speak, gallant youths ! what cause " he cries " Has driven you here on strange emprise? What seek you as your journey's aim ? Say, what your home, your race, your name : Or bring you peace, or war ? " JEin&AS, from the lofty stern With outstretched olive makes return : 276 THE .^NBID. " Born Trojans we : our warlike gear Your Latian enemies may fear : Driven from their coast by sword and spear Evander's court we seek. Go, tell your king, Dardania's power Has sent us here, the nation's flower, His succor to bespeak." That mighty name struck Pallas dumb : "Whoe'er you are" he answers " come, Speak with my father face to face. Our welcome take, our mansion grace." With friendly grasp he took and pressed The hand of his illustrious guest : Advancing, through the grove they wind, And leave the river's bank behind. And now with many a courteous word The prince of Troy his suit preferred. " Worthiest and best of Danaan race, Whom Fortune bids me sue for grace With signs of suppliant need, I feared not to approach you, I, Though sprung from Grecian Arcady, Allied to Atreus' seed. Heaven's oracles and conscious worth, Your own fair fame, that fills the earth. And kindred ancestry — 'tis these Have made us one in sympathies, And driven me to your royal gate, The willing instrument of fate. Old Dardanus, Troy's founder styled. Declared by Greece Electra's child, To Teucer's nation came ; And Atlas was Electra's sire. Whose sinewy strength, unused to tire, Supports the starry frame. BOOK VIII. 277 Your sire is Mercury, whom of yore Maia, his radiant mother, bore In cold Cyllene's air : But Maia, if report say true. Her birth from that same Atlas drew Whose shoulders heaven upbear. 'Tis thus one fountain-head contains The stream that flows in either's veins. Thus armed, I made no first essay By embassies to sound the way : My life I jeopardied, my own. And came in person to your throne, The Daunian hunts us as his prey, Your own inveterate foe : If us they banish, nought, they say, Shall save Hesperia from their sway ; The upper sea shall soon obey, And that which rolls below. Exchange we friendship : martial powers, Stout hearts, and practised arms are ours." He said. Evander's keen eyes scan Eyes, features, mien, and all the man : Then thus he speaks : " How great my joy To hail you, bravest son of Troy ! How truly, fondly I recall Anchises' look, voice, language, all I I mind, when Priam came to see His sister's realm, Hesione, On to Arcadia's bounds he passed And breathed our cold inclement blast. A boy was I, a stripling lad. My cheek with youth's first blossom clad ; I gazed at Priam and his train Of Troian lords, and gazed again : 278 THE JENEID. But great Anchises, princely tall, Was more than Priam, more than all. With boyish zeal I schemed and planned To greet the chief, and grasp his hand. I ventured, and with eager zest To Pheneus brought my honored guest. A Lyclan quiver he bestowed At parting, with its arrowy load, A gold-wrought scarf, and bridle reins Of gold, which Pallas still retains. So now the troth you ask I plight, And soon as morning lends her light A troop shall lead you on your way And ample stores your need purvey. Meanwhile, since happy chance invites Your presence, share these annual rites Which Heaven forbids us to postpone. And make our friendly boards your own." Once more he calls for wine and meats, And sets the chiefs on grassy seats, ^neas first on maple throne With lion's shaggy hide bestrewn ; While youths attendant on the priest Bring roasted flesh of victim beast, Wrought Ceres' gifts in baskets pile. And make the cups with Bacchus smile. So, plied with food, the strangers dine On entrails and on bullock's chine. When hunger's rage at length was stay*>d. And craving appetite allayed, Evander speaks : " This solemn day, The feast we serve, the rites we pay. Not these the freaks of fancy strange. Blind to the past and bent on change : No, Trojan guest ; deliverance wrought From direful ill the lesson taught : BOOK VJII. 279 The yearly honors we renew But render thanks where thanks are due. Behold yon beetling clifF o'erhung, Those crags in wild confusion flung, That mountain-dwelling, all forlorn. And rocks from their foundations torn. Beneath the hill a cavern ran Where Cacus lived, half beast, half man : No sunbeam e'er came in : The wet ground reeked with fresh-spilt gore, And human heads adorned the door With foul and ghastly grin. Dark Vulcan was the monster's sire : He vomited Vulcanian fire, And, glorying in so proud a birth, Shook with his bulk the solid earth. We, too, when yearning to be freed. Found heavenly succor in our need. At length a strong avenger came, Alcides, in the glow of fame From Geryon spoiled and killed : His captured bulls he led this way Victorious, and the stately prey Bank-side and valley filled. But Cacus, spurred by Furies on To leave no wickedness undone, Four bulls, four heifers, beauteous all, Bears off in plunder from the stall : And these, to hide their track, he trails Back through the valley by their tails. And thus, the footprints all reversed, Conceals them in his lair accursed. No sign, no mark the foray gave To lead the seeker to the cave : Till when at last Amphitryon's son Removed his herd, their pasture done, And stood prepared to go, 28o THE .^NEID. The oxen at departing fill With noisy utterance grove and hill, And breathe a farewell low : When hark ! a heifer from the den Makes answer to the sound again, And mocks her wily foe. Black choler filled Alcides' heart : He snatches club and bow and dart, And scales the mountain's height ; Then, nor till then, was Cacus seen With quailing eye, and troubled mien ; Swifter than swiftest wind he flies At once, and to the cavern hies, While terror wings his flight. Scarce had he gained the cavern door And lowered the rock that hung before Fixed by his father's art : the strain Makes the stout doorposts start again : When lo ! the fierce Tirynthian came, His vengeful spirit all on flame. Darts here and there his blazing eye. If haply entrance he may spy. And grinds for rage his teeth ; And thrice the mountain he surveyed. Thrice the blocked gate in vain essayed, Thrice rested, and took breath. A pointed rock, on all sides steep. Rose high above that dungeon-keep. Abrupt and craggy, fitted best For noisome birds to build their nest. This, as it frowned above the tide. He pushed from the remoter side. And from its socket tore : Then hurled it down : the high heavens crack, The river to its source runs back. And shore recoils from shore. BOOK VIII. 281 Then Cacus' mansion stood displayed ; The cave revealed its depth of shade ; As though by some strange might Earth, parting to her inmost core, Should show the realms that gods abhor, The vast abyss lie bare to day. And spectres huddle in dismay At influx of the light. There as surprised with sudden glare The monster, pent within his lair, In hideous fashion roars, Alcides plies him from on high With all his dread artillery. And trunk and millstone pours. He, powerless to elude or flee, Black smoke disgorges, dire to see. With darkness floods the room, Blots out all prospect from the sight, And makes another, deeper night, Half lightning and half gloom. Alcides, -chafing as for shame, Dashed onward headlong through the flame. Where thickest spout the jets of smoke, And blackest clouds the cavern choke. There, as in vain he fumed and hissed. He locked him in a deadly twist, And cleaving, clinging, throttling, strained His starting eyes, his throat blood-drained. The victor now, the doors down-torn, The loathsome den reveals, Displays the oxen, late forsworn, And the foul carcase drags in scorn To daylight by the heels. The rustics view with wild surprise The body o'er and o'er, 282 THE u^NEID. That shaggy breast, those dreadful eyes, Those jaws that flame no more. Henceforth our tribes observance pay And keep with joy this solemn day, Potitius foremost, and the line Pinarian, warders of the shrine. 'Twas here he fixed this altar-stone. In name and fact our greatest known. Come then, in memory of such worth The garland don, the cup hold forth. Invoke the god we both revere, And pour the wine with hearty cheer." He ceased : the poplar's sacred shade, The blended white and green. Hung from his brow : the cup displayed High in his hand was seen : With equal zeal his guests outpour The votive wine, the gods adore. Meantime the sun has stooped from high, And nears the downfall of the sky. Potitius and the priestly band Come, clad in skins, w^ith torch in hand. Once more the banquet is restored ; Rich dainties grace the second board , The victim's choicest parts, bestowed On bending plates, the altars load. The Salian minstrels come, their brows Engarlanded with poplar boughs, Two bands, one old, one young : The deeds of Hercules they sing, How, o'er his stepdame triumphing. The serpents' neck he wrung ; BOOK VJII. 283 How mighty towns he overthrew, Great Troy and great CEchalia too ; What countless tasks, assigned By king Eurystheus, he fulfilled, When haughty Juno, iron-willed, With Destiny combined. " Thy conquering arm the cloud-born twain, Hylseus, Pholus, both has slain ; Thou lay'st the Cretan monster low, And that fell beast, that met his foe In Nemea's mountain glen. The Stygian lake beheld and feared, And Orcus' warder, blood-besmeared, Growling o'er gory bones half-cleared Down in his gloomy den. No grisly shape thy soul could fright. Nor e'en Typhoeus, as for fight In arms he towered erect ; No lack was thine of counsel shrewd. When like a legion round thee stood The Hydra hundred-necked. All hail, great Jove's authentic race. Who e'en to heaven canst lend a grace I Vouchsafe thy presence here to-day To us and to the rites we pay." So mingle they their praise and prayer, And add, to crown his fame. Grim Cacus in his robber-lair Outbreathing smoke and flame. The sacred forest, thrilled with sound, Re-echoes and the hills rebound. And now the train, their worship o'er, Back to the city wend once more. 284 THE .^NEID. Heavy with age, the king moves on, And keeps ^neas and his son Close at his side, while various talk Makes light the burden of the walk. Admiringly the Trojan plies From side to side his glancing eyes, Feels every charm, and asks and hears Each record of departed years. Then spoke the venerable king, From whom, O Rome, thy glories spring: " This forest ground, from time's first dawn, Was held by natives. Nymph and Faun, Men who from stocks their birth had drawn And oaks of hardest grain : No arts were theirs : they knew not how To couple oxen to the plough, To store their treasured goods or spare : The teeming boughs supplied their fare And beasts in hunting slain. Then from Olympus' height came down Good Saturn, exiled from his crown By Jove, his mightier heir : He brought the race to union first, Erewhile on mountain-tops dispersed, And gave them statutes to obey. And willed the land wherein he lay Should Latium's title bear. That was the storied age of gold, So peacefully, serenely rolled The years beneath his reign ; At length stole on a baser age, And war's indomitable rage. And greedy lust of gain. Ausonians and Sicanians came. And Saturn's land oft changed her name» BOOK VIII. 28s Came too the monarchs, Tibris grim, The royal giant, large of limb, Whose name thenceforth the river bore, And Albula was known no more. Myself, an exile from my home. Went wandering far along the foam. Till mighty chance and destined doom Constrained my errant choice : So came I to these regions, driven By warning from my mother given And Phoebus' awful voice." Then, as they take their onward ways, A gate and altar he displays, Rome's own Carmental gate : In after years such honor found Evander's mother, nymph renowned, Carmentis, first of seers who sung The heroes from ^neas sprung And Pallanteum's fate. Next at the grove their feet are stayed Which Romulus the Asylum made : Lupercal's gelid cave they see, Named from the god of Arcady. Then shows he Argiletum's wood, Appealing to the scene of blood, And tells the tale of Argus' end, Perfidious Argus, once his friend. Then to Tarpeia's dread abode And Capitol he points the road. Now all is golden ; then 'twas all O'ergrown with trees and brushwood tall. E'en then rude hinds the spot revered : E'en then the wood, the rock they feared. " Here in this grove, these wooded steeps Some god unknown his mansion keeps : Arcadia's children deem 286 THE .^NEID. Their eyes have looked on Jove's own form, When oft he summons cloud and storm, And seen his aegis gleam. See you yon towers in hoar decay, The relics and memorials grey Of old ancestral fame ? This Janus, that king Saturn walled. And this Janiculum was called, That bore Saturnia's name." So talking on, at length they come To poor Evander's lowly home : There, where Carinae's mansions shine. Where spreads the Forum, lowed the kine. The palace reached, " These gates " he cried " Alcides entered in his pride. This house the god contained : Thou too take courage, wealth despise, And fit thee to ascend the skies, Nor be a poor man's courtesies Rejected or disdained." He spoke, and through the narrow door The great yEneas led. And heaped a couch upon the floor With leaves and bear-skin spread. Night falls, and earth and living things Are folded in her sable wings. But Venus, with a mother's dread At Latium's wild alarm, To Vulcan on the golden bed Spoke, breathing on each woi-d she said Sweet love's enticing charm : " When Greece was laboring to destroy The fated battlements of Troy, No aid from thee I cared to ask For Troy's unhappy race, BOOK VIII. 287 Nor chose in vain for arms to task Thy labor or thy grace, Though much to Priam's sons I owed, And oft my tears of pity flowed For my Eneas' case. And now his foot, by Jove's command, Is planted on Rutulian land. Thus then behold me suppliant here, Low at those knees I most revere : Behold a tender mother plead : Arms are the boon, her son's the need. Not vainly Nereus' daughter pled : Not vain the tears Aurora shed. What nations, see, what towns combine, To draw the sword 'gainst me and mine 1 " She ceased : her snowy arms enwound Her faltering husband round and round. The wonted fire at once he feels : Through all his veins the passion steals. Swift as the lightning's fiery glare Runs glimmering through the thunderous air His spouse in conscious beauty smiled To see his heart by love beguiled. Smit to the core with heavenly fire In fondling tone returns the sire : " Why stray so far thy pleas to seek? Has trust in Vulcan grown so weak ? Had such, my queen, been then thy bent, E'en then to Troy had arms been lent, Nor Jove nor Fate refused to give To Priam ten more years to live. And now, if war be in the air And battle's need thy present care. What molten gold or iron can With fire to fuse and winds to fan. 288 THE u^NEID. All shall le thine : thy power confess, Nor seek by prayers to feign it less." He said, and to his bosom pressed His beauteous queen, and sank to rest. The night had crowned the cope of heaven, And sleep's first fading bloom had driven The slumber from men's eyes ; E'en at the hour when prudent wife. Who day by day, to eke out life, Minerva's distaff plies. Relumes her fire, o'erreaching night, And tasks her maidens by its light. To keep her husband's bed from stain And for their babes a pittance gain ; So, nor less swift, at labor's claim Springs from his couch the Lord of flame. Fast by ^olian Lipare And fair Sicania's coast An island rises from the sea With smoking rocks embossed ; Beneath, a cavern drear and vast, Hollowed by Cyclopean blast, Rings with unearthly sound ; Bruised anvils clang their thunder-peal. Hot hissing glows the Chalyb steel, And fiery vapor fierce and fast Pants up from underground ; The centre this of Vulcan's toil. And Vulcan's name adorns the soil. Here finds he, as he makes descent, The Cyclops o'er their labor bent : Brontes and Steropes are there, And gaunt Pyracmon, stripped and bare. The thunderbolt was in their hand, Which Jove sends down to scourge the land ; BOOK VJII. 289 A part was barbed and formed to kill, A part remained imperfect still. Three rays they took of forky hail, Of watery cloud three rays, Three of the winged southern gale, Three of the ruddy blaze : Now wrath they mingle, swift to harm, And glare, and noise, and loud alarm. Elsewhere for Mars they plan the car Wherewith he maddens into war Strong towns and spearmen bold. And burnish Pallas' shirt of mail. The ^gis, bright with dragon's scale And netted rings of gold : The twisted serpent-locks they shape And Gorgon's head, lopped at the nape : Her dying eyes yet rolled. " Away with these " he cried " away. My sons, and list what now I say : A mighty chief of arms has need : Now prove your skill, your strength, your speed. Begone, delay ! " No further speech : Each takes the part assigned to each. And plies the work with zeal : In streams the gold, the copper flows. And in the mighty furnace glows The death-inflicting steel. A shield they plan, whose single guard May all the blows of Latium ward. And fold on fold together bind. Seven circles round one centre twined. Some make the windy billows heave, Now give forth air, and now receive : The copper hisses in the wave : The anvils press the groaning cave. 19 290 THE yENJSID. With measured cadence each and all The giant hammers rise and fall : The griping pincers, deftly plied, Turn the rough ore from side to side. While thus in distant caves the sire Bestirs the brethren of the fire, The gracious dawn, the vocal bird Beneath his eaves at daybreak heard Bid old Evander rise : A linen tunic he indues, And round his feet Tyrrhenian shoes In rustic fashion ties : A sword he fastens to his side, And wears for scarf a panther's hide. Two watch-dogs from the palace gate Come forth, and on their master wait. So, mindful of his plighted word. He seeks his guest, the Trojan lord, ^neas too with willing feet As early moves his host to meet. Achates on his chief attends : Beside Evander walks his son : Each, guest and host, his hand extends : They sit them down, and talk as friends, When thus the king begun : " Great chief of Troy, whose safety shows That Ilium still survives her foes, Albeit a mighty name be ours, Yet scanty are our martial powers ; Here Tiber bounds us, there the din Of Rutule warfare hems us in : Strong succor ne'ertheless I bring, Great nations, rich with many a king : By chance they stand before our gate : You join us at the call of fate. BOOK VIIJ. 291 Far hence Agylla's city stands, Built, like our own, by alien hands : There warlike Lydia's ancient stock Is planted on the Etruscan rock. Long years of prosperous empire past, Mezentius took the throne at last, By arms compelled them to obey, And governed with a tyrant's sway. Why tell the blood the monster spilt, Each freak of madness or of guilt? Nay — Heaven return it on his head ! — He chained the living to the dead, Hand joined to hand and face to face In noisome pestilent embrace ; So trickling down with foul decay They wore their lingering lives away, But wearied out with tyrannies In arms at length his people rise. Besiege his gates, his guards lay low. And firebrands to his roof-tree throw. He 'mid the tumult of the strife. So Fortime willed, escapes with life. To haughty Turnus' kingdom flies. And hides him with his old allies. Etruria glows with righteous ire : All, sheathed in arms, his head require Now gallant guest, this numerous band I offer to your sole command : Around the shore their vessels crowd And call for action, fierce and loud r An aged seer their speed restrains. Rehearsing things which Heaven ordains J ' Brave sons of brave Mseonian sires. Whom dark Mezentius' rule inspires With wrath and righteous grief, 292 THE .^NBID. No leader of Italian blood May head so vast a multitude : Choose ye a foreign chief.' Scared by Heaven's voice, the Etruscan train Sits down in arms in yonder plain. An envoy, sent from Tarchon, brings The sceptre of Etruria's kings. And bids me join the camp, and wear The crown, and be the kingdom's heir. But envious age, for war too late, Forbids Evander to be great. My son perchance the host might lead, But, born of Sabine mother's seed, A half Italian he : You, blest alike in age and race, Assume, brave prince, the chieftain's place O'er Troy and Italy. Nay more, my hope, my only joy, I give you too, my noble boy : The martial lore of service stern Beneath your conduct he shall learn, With reverence on your actions gaze. And tread your steps from earliest days. Two hundred men, with each his steed, I send with him, Arcadia's breed. And Pallas from his own good store Shall furnish forth two hundred more." He ended, and in musing mood .<^neas and Achates stood : Dark thoughts came thick, when lo ! from heaven A sudden sign, by Venus given. Swift runs athwart the sky's clear field A thunder and a glare : BOOK VIIL 293 All Nature to her centre reeled, And east and west through ether pealed The Tyrrhene trumpet's blare. They look : yet once and once again Deep growls the thunder in his den ; And armor veiled in cloud is seen High in the azure space serene To glimmer with a ruddy sheen And hurtle in the air. The rest are fixed in awe profound : yEneas hails the expected sound And owns his mother's hand. " Ask not " he cries " much honored friend. What chance these prodigies portend : 'Tis I the skies demand : This sign to send my mother vowed, If war was on the wing : Herself to aid me through the cloud Vulcanian arms would bring. Alas ! what havoc soon shall seize Laurentum's wretched families ! What reckoning, Turnus, yours to pay I What burdens shalt thou roll. Helmets and shields and mangled clay Where dwelt a warrior's soul, Hoar Tiber ! Call to arms, and break With treacherous ease the leagues ye make 1 " He said, and from his throne upleapt, Awakes the altar-fires that slept ; And pays the rites of morning hours To Hercules and home-god powers. The Trojans and Arcadia's king Alike their chosen victims bring. Then, turning shoreward, he reviews His vessels, and arrays the crews • 294 THE .^NEID. Of these the first in martial might He takes to follow him in fight : The rest drop down the stream, to bear lulus tidings how they fare, His father and the cause. Each has his steed of all the train That marches to the Tuscan plain : A charger for the chief is led With tawny lion's hide bespread That shines with gilded claws. Fame to the little town relates The horse are marching to the gates. The matrons with redoubled zeal Make vows to Heaven in wild appeal : Fear closer treads on danger's heel. And larger looms the fray : The tears roll down Evander's face, He holds his child in strict embrace, And thus begins to say : " Ah ! would but Jupiter restore The strength I had in days of yore. When conqueror in Praeneste's fields I fired a pile of foemen's shields. And hurried with my own right hand King Erulus to the darksome land : Three lives inspired that monstrous frame When from Feronia's womb he came : Three swords he wielded 'gainst the foe : Three deaths it cost to lay him low : Yet thrice this hand shed out his gore, And thrice stripped off the arms he wore Ah ! never then should war's alarms Dispart me from my darling's arms. Nor had Mezentius done despite So foully to a neighbor's right, Or made my widowed city feel The havoc of his ruthless steel. BOOK VIIL 295 Yet O ye gods, and O great Jove, Have pity on a father's love And hear Evander's prayer : If 'tis your purpose to restore My Pallas to my arms once more ; If living is to see his face, Then grant me life, of your dear grace : No toil too hard to bear. But ah ! if Fortune be my foe, And meditate some crushing blow, Now, now the thread in mercy break. While hope sees dim and cares mistake, While still I clasp thee, darling boy, My latest and my only joy. Nor let assurance, worse than fear, With cruel tidings wound my ear." His speech grows faint, his limbs give way ; His slaves their master home convey. Now through the open gates at last The mounted company had passed : ./^neas and Achates lead : The other lords of Troy succeed. Young Pallas in the midst is seen With broidered scarf and armor sheen : Like Lucifer, the day-spring's star, To radiant Venus dearest far Of all the sons of light, When, bathed in ocean's wave, he rear« His sacred presunce 'mid the spheres, And dissipates the night. The matrons on the ramparts stand : Their straining eyes pursue The dusty cloud, the mail-clad band Far flashing on the view. 296 THE .^NEID. Through thicket and entangled brake The nearest road the warriors take, And hark ! the war-cry's sound ; The line is formed, and horny feet Recurrently the champaign beat And shake the crumbling ground. A grove by Caere's river grows ; Ancestral reverence round it throws A terror far and wide : The shelving hills around have made A girdle for the pine-wood shade, Set close on every side. Twas there Pelasgian tribes, men say, Who dwelt in Latium's clime of old. Kept good Silvanus' holiday. The guardian god of field and fold. Hard by encamped there held their post Brave Tarchon and his Tyrrhene host, And from the hill-top might be seen Their legions stretching o'er the green : The Trojans join them on the mead. And seek refreshment, man and steed. But careful Venus, heavenly fair. Had journeyed through the clouds of air. Her present in her hands : Deep in the vale her son she spied Reposing by the river-side. And thus before him stands : " Lo, thus the gods their word fulfil : Behold the arms my husband's skill Has fashioned in a day : Fear not conclusions soon to try With Latium's braggarts, but defy E'en Turnus to the fray." BOOK VIII. 297 Then to her son's embrace she flew . The armor 'neath an oak in view She placed, all dazzling bright. He, glorying in the beauteous prize, From point to point quick darts his eyes With ever-new delight. Now wondering 'twixt his hands he turns The helm that like a meteor burns, The sword that rules the war. The breastplate shooting bloody rays, As dusky clouds in sunlight blaze, Refulgent from afar. The polished greaves of molten gold, The spear, the shield with fold on fold, A prodigy of art untold. There, prescient of the years to come, Italia's times, the wars of Rome, The fire's dark lord had wrought : E'en from Ascanius' dawning days The generations he portrays, The fights in order fought. There too the mother wolf he made In Mars's cave supinely laid : Around her udders undismayed The gamesome infants hung. While she, her loose neck backward throwttj Caressed them fondly, one by one, And shaped them with her tongue. Hard by, the towers of Rome he drew And Sabine maids in public view Snatched 'mid the Circus games : So 'twixt the fierce Romulean brood And Tatius with his Cures rude A sudden war upflames. And now the kings, their conflict o'er. Stand up in arms Jove's shrine before, 298 THE .^NEID. From goblets pour the sacred wine,. And make their peace o'er bleeding swine. There too was Mettus' body torn By four-horse cars asunder borne ; Ah, well for thee, had promise sworn, False Alban, held thee true ! And Tullus dragged the traitor's flesh Through wild and wood : the briars looked fresh With sprinkled gory dew. Porsenna there with pride elate Bids Rome to Tarquin ope her gate : With arms he hems the city in : Eneas' sons stand firm to win Their freedom with their blood : Enraged and menacing his air, That Codes dares the bridge to tear, And ClcElia breaks her bonds, bold fair, And swims across the flood. There Manlius on Tarpeia's steep Stood firm, the Capitol to keep : The ancient palace-roof you saw New bristling with Romulean straw. A silver goose in gilded walls With flapping wings announced the Gauls ; And through the wood the invaders crept, And climbed the height, while others slept. Golden their hair on head and chin : Gold collars deck their milk-white skin : Short cloaks with colors checked Shine on their backs : two spears each wields Of Alpine make ; and oblong shields Their brawny limbs protect. Luperci here of raiment stripped And dancing Salii move. And flamens with their caps wool-tipped, And shields that fell from Jove ; BOOK VIII. 290 And high-born dames parade the streets In pensile cars with cushioned seats. Far off he sets the gates of Dis, And Tartarus' terrible abyss, And dooms to guilt assigned : There Catiline on frowning steep Hangs poised above the infernal deep With Fury-forms behind : And righteous souls apart he draws, With Cato there to give them laws. 'Twixt these in wavy outline rolled The swelling ocean, all of gold, Though hoary showed the spray : Gay dolphins, sheathed in silver scales. Lash up the water with their tails, And 'mid the surges play. There in the midmost meet the sight The embattled fleets, the Actian fight : Leucate flames with warlike show. And golden-red the billows glow. Here Csesar, leading from their home The fathers, people, gods of Rome, Stands on the lofty stern : The constellation of his sire Beams o'er his head, and tongues of fire About his temples burn. With favoring gods and winds to speed Agrippa forms his line : The golden beaks, war's proudest meed, High on his forehead shine. There, with barbaric troops increased, Antonius, from the vanquished East And distant Red-sea side, To battle drags the Bactrian bands And Egypt ; and behind him stands (Foul shame I) the Egyptian bride. 300 THE .^NBID. Each from his moorings, on they pour, And three-toothed beak and back-drawn oar Plough up in foam the marble floor. Who saw had deemed that Cyclads, torn From their firm roots, were onward borne Colliding on the surge, That hills with hills in conflict meet : The mighty chiefs their tower-armed fleet With such propulsion urge. With hand or enginery they throw Live darts ablaze with fiery tow : The sea-god's verdant fields look red, Incarnadined with heaps of dead. Her native timbrel in her hand, The queen to battle calls her band, Infatuate ! — nor perceives as yet Two snakes behind with fangs a-whet. Anubis and each monster strange That Egypt's land reveres 'Gainst Neptune, Venus, Pallas range, And shake their uncouth spears. There where they battle, host and hostt Raves grisly Mars, in steel embossed : The Furies frown on high : With mantle rent glad Discord walks, Bellona fierce behind her stalks. Her scourge of crimson dye. Then Actian Phcebus bends his bow : Scared by that terror, flies the foe, Arabia, Egypt, Ind : The haughty dame in wild defeat Is shaking out her loosened sheet, And standing to the wind. She, wanning o'er with death foreseen, Through corpses flies, devoted queen, By wave and Zephyr sped : BOOK VIIT. 301 While mighty Nile, through all his frame Deep shuddering for his people's shame, His ample vesture opened wide, Invites the vanquished host to hide Within his azure bed. Cassar, of triple triumph proud, Pays to Rome's gods the gift he vowed. Three hundred fanes of stone : The live streets ring with shouts and games : Each shrine is thronged by grateful dames, Each floor with victims strown. Himself, bright Phoebus' gate before, At leisure tells the offerings o'er, And fastens on the gorgeous door The first-fruits of the prey : There march the captives, all and each, In garb as diverse as in speech, A multiform array. The houseless Nomad there is shown. And Afric tribes that wear no zone. And Morini, extreme of men. And Dahje, masterless till then : Gelonians too, with bended bcws. And Leleges, and Carian foes : Euphrates droops his head, and flows With less of billowy pride : Old Rhine extends his branching horns. And passion-chafed Araxes scorns The bridge that spans his tide. Such legends traced on Vulcan's shield The wondering chief surveys : On truth in symbol half revealed He feasts his hungry gaze. And high upon his shoulders rears The fame and fates of unborn years. BOOK IX. ARGUMENT. Turnus takes advantage of ^neas's absence, fires some of his ships (which are transformed into sea-nymphs), and assaults his camp. The Trojans, reduced to the last ex- tremities, send Nisus and Euryalus to recall ^neas ; which furnishes the poet with that admirable episode of their friendship, generosity, and the conclusion of their adren- tures. 30S BOOK IX. While elsewhere thus the war proceeds, Saturnian Juno swiftly speeds Her Iris from above To valiant Turnus : Turnus then Was sitting in a hallowed glen, His sire Pilumnus' grove : And thus the child of Thaumas speaks, Heaven's beauty flushing in her cheeks : " Turnus, what never god would dare To promise to his suppliant's prayer, Lo here, the lapse of time has brought E'en to your hands, unasked, unsought ^neas camp and fleet forsakes And journey to Evander takes. Nor thus content, his way has found To far Cortona's utmost bound. The Lydian people calls to arms. And musters all the rustic swarms. Why longer wait ? the moment flies : Call horse and car : the camp surprise." E'en as she spoke, her wings she spread, And skjrward on her rainbow fled. The ardent youth the goddess knew : His hands to heaven he rears. And thus pursues her, as from view Aloft she disappears : 3o6 THE .-ENEID. " Fair Iris, glory of the sky, Who sent thee hither from on high? What means this sudden light? I see the heavens dispart in twain, And round the pole the starry train Is swimming in my sight. Enough : I follow this thy sign, Whoe'er thou art, O power divine ! " So speaking, to the wave he hied. Scooped in his palms the brimming tide, In suppliance to the immortals bows, And burdens heaven with uttered vows. And now the host is on the plain. With steeds, and gold, and broidered grain : Messapus the front rank arrays : The hinder Tyrrheus' sons obeys : The midmost are by Turnus led : So rising in serene repose Great Ganges rears his seven-fold head : So Nile from off the champaign flows And sinks into his bed. Troy's sons look forth, and see revealed Black-dust clouds, moving o'er the field : And first from off" the fronting mole Aloud Caicus calls : " What murky clouds are these that roll? Fetch weapons, man the walls ! See there, the foe ! " And one and all Pour through the gates and fill the wall. For such Eneas' last command. What time he stood to go, Should chance meanwhile surprise his band. To wage no conflict hand to hand, But safe behind the rampart stand And thence direct the blow BOOK IX. 307 So now, though shame and scornful rage, Quick blending, prompt them to engage, They act his bidding, close the gate. And armed, in sheltering towers await The coming of the foe. Turnus with twice ten chosen horse Outstrips his column's tardy course, And nears them unforeseen : A Thracian steed he rides, white-flecked. With auburn crest his helm is decked, Itself of golden sheen. And " Gallants, who with me will dare The first assault? " he cries " look there ! " Then sends his javelin through the air (This the first drop of war's red rain). And tower-like bears him o'er the plain. Clamorous and eager to attack. His comrades follow at his back ; The Teucrian hearts, they deem, are slack. Their valor laid asleep : They dare not trust the level space Or fight as men do, face to face. But still the encampment keep. So round and round the camp he wheels Enraged, and for an entrance feels : Like wolf, whoj^ ranging round the fold, Whines at the gate, in rain and cold, At midnight's season still : Safe 'neath their dams the lambkins bleat ; He rages in infuriate heat At those he cannot kill. With hunger's gathered flame unslaked And bloodless jaws to dryness baked. Thus while he wall and camp surveys, The fire of wrath begins to blaze, Grief bums in every vein : 3o8 THE .^NEID. What way may access best be found To dash the Trojans from their mound And fling them on the plain ? The fleet that lay upon their flank, Deep shored within the river-bank, He first assails, and calls aloud For torches to the exulting crowd, And with a flaming pine-tree brand. Himself on flame, supplies his hand. Then, then, by Turnus' presence spurred, They ply the work, and at the w^ord Each waves a torch on fire : The hearths are stripped, and pitchy glare And soot and vapor through the air In flaky wreaths aspire. What God, ye Muses, stayed the fire, And saved the barks from fate so dire ? Declare : the tale long since was told. But fame is green, though faith be old. When first -^Eneas on the height Of Ida built his ships for flight, The Berecyntine queen, 'tis said, Her suit before the Thunderer pled : " Vouchsafe, my son, thy mother's prayer, Throned by her aid Olympus' heir. On Ida's summit once was mine. Loved through long years, a grove of pine, Where worshippers their homage paid, With pitch-trees dark and maple shade : These to the Dardan chief I gave When ships he sought to cross the wave ; I gave, and in the gift was glad : But now their future makes me sad. Release me from my fears : concede The object of a parent's need : BOOK IX. 3oq Grant that their texture ne'er may fail From voyage long or stormy gale : Such vantage let my favorites reap From birth on our Idasan steep." Her son, the Mighty One, replies, Who rolls the orbits of the skies : " O mother ! wherefore strive in vain The course of destiny to strain ? Shall vessels made by mortal hand The immortals' privilege command ? Shall man ride safe in danger's hour? Claimed ever god so vast a power ? Nay rather, when, their service o'er, They reach at length the Ausonian shore, What ships, escaping wind and wave. In Latium land the Dardan brave. Shall change their mortal shape for ours And swim the main as sea-god powers, As Galate and Doto sweep O'er the broad surface of the deep." He said, and called to seal his vow His Stygian brother's lake. The banks where pitch and sand and mud Together mix their murky flood, And with the bending of his brow Made all Olympus shake. And now the promised time was come. The fated years had filled their sum, When Turnus' wrong reminds the dame To shield her sacred ships from flame. A sudden light strikes blind their eyes : A cloud runs westward o'er the skies. And Ida s choirs appear : 3IO THE .^NEID. An awful voice through ether thrills, The ranks of either army fills, And deafens every ear : '' Forbear your weapons to employ To guard my ships, ye sons of Troy : Know, Turnus' fire shall bum the seas Or ere it touch my sacred trees ; Go free, my favorites : loose your bands : Be Ocean-nymphs : your queen commands." At once they burst their cords and dip, Like dolphins, each with brazen tip Down plunging 'neath the flood ; Then all in maiden forms- emerge, Swim out to sea and breast the surge, A.S many as on the river's verge Had erst in order stood. In wonder gaze the Rutule crowd : Messapus' valiant self is cowed : His horses start and leap : The river falters, sounding hoarse, Old Tiber, and retracks his course, Nor hurries to the deep. Yet Turnus still is undismayed. Still prompt to cheer or to upbraid : " At Troy, at Troy these portents aim : See, Jove has ta'en away The means of flight, her wonted game : For Rutule sword and Rutule flame Her navy will not stay. No path for her across the sea : She has no hope to scape us, she : One half her world is gone : Ourselves are masters of the land ; Such multitudes beside us stand, Italians every one. BOOK IX. 311 They scare not me, those words of heaven, The voice of fate from temples given, Which Phrygia's exiles boast : Venus and fate have reaped their due In bringing safe the wandering crew To our Ausonian coast. I too have had my fate assigned. To sweep the miscreants from mankind Who rob me of my spouse : Not only Atreus' sons can feel, Nor Greece alone can draw the steel For breach of marriage vows. Yet once to suffer may suffice : What ailed them then to trespass twice? One taste of crime should leave behind A loathing for the female kind. Behold, their confidence they ground On balking trench and mediate mound, Removed from death a span ! And saw they not sink down in flame Their Ilium's walls, albeit the frame Of powers more strong than man ? But you, my warriors, who will dare Rush on with me, the fence down-tear. The trembling camp invade ? No Vulcan's arms, no thousand sail 'Gainst Troy are needed to prevail : Nay, let Etruria weight the scale And lend them all her aid. Palladium ravished from the tower. Its warders stabbed at midnight's hour. Such feats they need not fear : We will not skulk in horse's womb : Our fires shall wrap their walls with doom In daylight broad and clear. 312 THE ^-ENEII). Trust me, they shall not think to say They deal with Danaans weak as they, Whom Hector's prowess kept at bay E'en to the tenth long year. And now, since day's best hours are spent, Let deeds well done your hearts content, Recruit your weary frames, and know The morn shall see us strike the blow." Meanwhile Messapus has to set About the gates a living net, And kindle fires around : Twice seven Rutulian chiefs he calls Armed watch to keep beside the walls : A hundred youths each chief obey : Their helmets shoot a golden ray, With crests of purple crowned. They shift their posts, relieve the guard : Then stretch them on the grassy sward, To Bacchus open all their soul. And tilt full oft the brazen bowl. Throughout the night the watch-fires flame. And all is revel, noise, and game. Forth look the Trojans from their mound : They see the leaguer stretching round, And keep the rampart manned, In anxious fear the gates inspect. With bridges wall and tower connect. And muster, spear in hand. Bold Mnestheus and Serestus brave, To whose tried hands .^neas gave, Should aught arise of sterner need, To rule the state, the battle lead, Press on, now here, now there : Along the walls the gathered host Keeps tireless watch from post to post. Each taking danger's share. BOOK IX. 313 Nisus was guardian of the gate, No bolder heart in war's debate, The son of Hyrtacus, whom Ide Sent, with his quiver at his side, From hunting beasts in mountain brake To follow in -Eneas' wake : With him Euryalus, fair boy ; None fairer donned the arms of Troy ; His tender cheek as yet unshorn And blossoming with youth new-born. Love made them one in every thought : In battle side by side they fought ; And now in duty at the gate The twain in common station wait. " Can it be Heaven " said Nisus then " That lends such warmth to hearts of men, Or passion surging past control That plays the god to each one's soul ? Long time, impatient of repose, My swelling heart within me glows. And yearns its energy to fling On war, or some yet grander thing. See there the foe, with vain hope flushed ! Their lights are scant, their stations hushed ; Unnerved by slumber and by wine Their bravest chiefs are stretched supine. Now to my doubting thought give heed And listen where its motions lead. Our Trojan comrades, one and all, Cry loud, ^neas to recall. And where, they say, the men to go And let him of our peril know? Now, if the meed I ask they swear To give you — nay, I claim no share, Content with bare renown — SH THE yENEID. Meseems, beside yon grassy heap The way I well might find and keep, To Pallanteum's town." The youth returns, while thirst of praise Infects him with a strange amaze : " Can Nisus aim at heights so great, Nor take his friend to share his fate ? Shall I look on, and let you go Alone to venture 'mid the foe ? Not thus my sire Opheltes, versed In w^ar^s rude toil, my childhood nursed, When Argive terror filled the air And Troy was battling with despair : Nor such the lot my youth has tried, In hardship ever at your side. Since, great Eneas' liegeman sworn, I followed Fortune to her bourne : Here, here within this bosom burns A soul that mere existence spurns. And holds the fame you seek to reap, Though bought with life, were bought full cheap.' " Not mine the -thought" brave Nisus said " To wound you with so base a dread : So may great Jove, or whosoe'er Marks with just eyes how mortals fare, Protect me going, and restore In triumph to your arms once more. But if — for many a chance, you wis. Besets an enterprise like this — If accident or power divine The scheme to adverse end incline, Your life at least I would prolong : Death does your years a deeper wrong. Leave me a friend to tomb my clay. Rescued or ransomed, which you may ; B OOK IX. 315 Or, e'en that boon should chance refuse, To pay the absent funeral dues. Nor let me cause so dire a smart To that devoted mother's heart, Who, sole of all the matron train, Attends her darling o'er the main, Nor cares like others to sit down An inmate of Acestes' town." He answers brief: "Your pleas are naught; Firm stands the purpose of my thought : Come, stir we : why so slow ? " Then calls the guards to take their place, Moves on by Nisus, pace with pace, And to the prince vthey go. All other creatures wheresoe'er Were stretched in sleep, forgetting care : Troy's chosen chiefs in high debate Were pondering o'er the reeling state. What means to try, or whom to speed To show ^neas of their need. There stand they, midway in the field, Still hold the spear, still grasp the shield : When Nisus and his comrade brave With eager tones admittance crave ; The matter high ; though time be lost, The occasion well were worth the cost, lulus hails the impatient pair. Bids Nisus what they wish declare. Then spoke the youth " Chiefs ! lend your ears, Nor judge our proffer by our years. The Rutules, sunk in wine and sleep. Have ceased their former watch to keep : A stealthy passage have we spied Where on the sea the gate opes wide : 3i6 THE yENBID. The line of fires is scant and broke, And thick and murky rolls the smoke. Give leave to seek, in these dark hours, ^neas at Evander's towers, Soon will you see us here again Decked with the spoils of slaughtered men. Nor strange the road : ourselves have seen The city, hid by valleys green. Just dimly dawning, and explored In hunting all the river-board." Out spoke Aletes, old and grey : " Ye gods, who still are Ilium's stay, No, no, ye mean not to destroy Down to the ground the race of Troy, When such the spirit of her youth. And such the might of patriot truth." Then, as the tears roll down his face. He clasps them both in strict embrace : " Brave warriors ! what rewards so great, For worth like yours to compensate ? From Heaven and from your own true heart Expect the largest, fairest part : The rest, and at no distant day. The good yEneas shall repay, Nor he, the royal youth, forget Through all his life the mighty debt." " Nay, hear me too " Ascanius cried " Whose life is with my father's tied : O Nisus ! by the home-god powers We jointly reverence, yours and ours, The god of ancient Capys' line, And Vesta's venerable shrine, By these dread sanctions I appeal To you, the masters of my weal ; O bring me back my sire again ! Restore him, and I feel no pain. BOOK IX. 317 Two massy goblets will I give ; Rich sculptures on the silver live ; The plunder of my sire, What time he took Arisba's hold ; Two chargers, talents twain of gold, A bowl beside of antique mould By Dido brought from Tyre. Then too, if ours the lot to reign O'er Italy, by conquest ta'en. And each man's spoil assign, — Saw ye how Turnus rode yestreen. His horse and arms of golden sheen? That horse, that shield and glowing crest I separate, Nisus, from the rest And'count already thine. Twelve female slaves, at your desire. Twelve captives with their arms entire, My sire shall give you, and the plain That forms Latinus' own domain. But you, dear youth, of worth divine. Whose blooming years are nearer mine, Here to my heart I take, and choose My comrade for whate'er ensues. No glory will I e'er pursue, Unmotived by the thought of you : Let peace or war my state befall. Thought, word, and deed, you share them all." The youth replied : " No after day This hour's fair promise shall betray. Be fate but kind. Yet let me claim One favor, more than all you name : A mother in the camp is mine. Derived from Priam's ancient line : No home in Sicily or Troy Has kept her from her darling boy. 3i8 THE .^NEID. She knows not, she, the paths I tread ; I leave her now, no farewell said ; By night and this your hand I swear, A parent's tears I could not bear. Vouchsafe your pity, and engage To solace her unchilded age : And I shall meet whate'er betide By such assurance fortified." With sympathy and tender grief All melt in tears, lulus chief, As filial love in other shown Recalled the semblance of his own : And " Tell your doubting heart" he criee "All blessings wait your high emprise : I take your mother for my own, Creusa, save in name alone, Nor lightly deem the affection due To her who bore a child like you. Come what come may, I plight my troth By this my head, my father's oath. The bounty to yourself decreed Should favoring gods your journey speed The same shall in your line endure. To parent and to kin made sure." He spoke, and weeping still, untied A gilded falchion from his side, Lycaon's work, the man of Crete, With sheath of ivory complete : Brave Mnestheus gives for Nisus' wear A lion's hide with shaggy hair ; Aletes, old in danger grown. His helmet takes, and gives his own. Then to the gates, as forth they fare, The band of chiefs with many a prayer The gallant twain attends : BOOK IX. 319 lulus, manlier than his years, Oft whispering, for his father's eats Full many a message sends : But be it message, be it prayer, Alike 'tis lost, dispersed in air. The trenches past, through night's deep gloom The hostile camp they near : Yet many a foe shall meet his doom Or ere that hour appear. There see they bodies stretched supine, O'ercome with slumber and with wine ; The cars, unhorsed, are drawn up high ; 'Twixt wheels and harness warriors lie, With arms and goblets on the grass In undistinguishable mass. "Now" Nisus cries "for hearts and hands: This, this the hour our force demands. Here pass we : yours the rear to mind, Lest hostile arm be raised behind ; Myself will go before and slay. While carnage opes a broad highway." So whispers he with bated breath. And straight begins the work of death On Rhamnes, haughty lord : On rugs he lay, in gorgeous heap. From all his bosom breathing sleep, A royal seer, by Turnus loved : But all too weak his seer-craft proved To stay the rushing sword. Three servants next the weapon found Stretched 'mid their armor on the ground : Then Remus' charioteer he spies Beneath the coursers as he lies, And lops his downdropt head : The ill-starred master next he leaves, A headless trunk, that gasps and heaves : 320 THE ^i^NBID. Forth spouts the blood from every vein, And deluges with crimson rain Green earth and broidered bed. Then Lamyrus and Lamus died, Serranus too, in youth's fair pride : That night had seen him long at play : Now by the dream-god tamed he lay : Ah ! had his play but matched the night, Nor ended till the dawn of light ! So famished lion uncontrolled Makes havoc through the teeming fold, As frantic hunger craves ; Mangling and harrying far and near The meek mild victims, mute with fear, With gory jaws he raves. Nor less Euryalus performs : The thirst of blood his bosom warms ; 'Mid nameless multitudes he storms, Herbesus, Fadus, Abaris kills Slumbering and witless of their ills. While Rhoetus wakes and sees the whole. But hides behind a massy bowl. There, as to rise the trembler strove, Deep in his breast the sword he drove, And bathed in death withdrew. The lips disgorge the life's red flood, A mingled stream of wine and blood : He plies his blade anew. Now turns he to Messapus' band, For there the fires he sees Burnt out, while coursers hard at hand Are browsing at their ease, When Nisus marks the excess of zeal. The maddening fever of the steel, And checks him thus with brief appeal : " Forbear we now ; 'twill soon be day : Our wrath is slaked, and hewn our way." BOOK IX. 321 Full many a spoil they leave behind Of solid silver thrice refined, Armor and bowls of costliest mould And rugs in rich confusion rolled. A belt Euryalus puts on With golden knobs, from Rhamnes won : Of old by Caedicus 'twas sent, An absent friendship to cement. To Remulus, fair Tibur's lord. Who, dying, to his grandson left The shining prize : the Rutule sword In after days the trophy reft. Athwart his manly chest in vain He binds these trappings of the slain ; Then 'neath his chin in triumph laced Messapus' helm, with plumage graced. The camp at length they leave behind, And round the lake securely wind. Meanwhile a troop is on its way, From Latium's city sped. An offshoot from the host that lay Along the plain in close array, Three hundred horsemen, sent to bring A message back to Turnus king. With Volscens at their head. Now to the camp they draw them nigh, Beneath the rampart's height, When from afar the twain they spy, Still steering from the right ; The helmet through the glimmering shade At once the unwary boy betrayed. Seen in the moon's full light. Not lost the sight on jealous eyes : " Ho ! stand ! who are ye? " Volscens cries " Whence come, or whither tend? " 322 THE .^NEID. No movement deign they of reply, But swifter to the forest fly, And make the night their friend. With fatal speed the mounted foes Each avenue as with network close, And every outlet bar. It was a forest bristling grim With shade of ilex, dense and dim : Thick brushwood all the ground o'ergrew J The tangled ways a path ran through, Faint glimmering like a star. The darkling boughs, the cumbering prey Euryalus's flight delay : His courage fails, his footsteps stray : But Nisus onward flees ; No thought he takes, till now at last The enemy is all o'erpast, E'en at the grove, since Alban called, Where then Latinus' herds were stalled : Sudden he pauses, looks behind In eager hope his friend to find : In vain ; no friend he sees. " Euryalus, my chiefest care. Where left I you, unhappy?- where? What clue may guide my erring tread This leafy labyrinth back to thread ? " Then, noting each remembered track, He thrids the wood, dim-seen and black. Listening, he hears the horse-hoofs' beat, The clatter of pursuing feet : A little moment — shouts arise, And lo ! Euryalus he spies. Whom now the foemen's gathered throng Is hurrying helplessly along, While vain resistance he essays, Trapped by false night and treacherous ways. BOOK IX. 323 What should he do ? what force employ To rescue the beloved boy ? Plunge through the spears that line the wood, And death and glory win with blood ? Not unresolved, he poises soon A Javelin, looking to the Moon : " Grant, goddess, grant thy present aid, Queen of the stars, Latonian maid. The greenwood's guardian power ; If, grateful for success of mine, With gifts my sire has graced thy shrine, If e'er myself have brought thee spoil. The tribute of my hunter's toil. To ornament thy roof divine, Or glitter on thy tower. These masses give me to confound. And guide through air my random wound." He spoke, and hurled with all his might ; The swift spear hurtles through the night : Stout Sulmo's back the stroke receives : The wood, though snapped, the midriff cleaves. He falls, disgorging life's warm tide. And long-drawn sobs distend his side. All gaze around : another spear The avenger levels from his ear. And launches on the sky. Tagus lies pierced through temples twain, The dart deep buried in his brain. Fierce Volscens storms, yet finds no foe. Nor sees the hand that dealt the blow. Nor knows on whom to fly. " Your heart's warm blood for both shall pay '* He cries, and on his beauteous prey With naked sword he sprang. Scared, maddened, Nisus shrieks aloud : No more he hides in night's dark shroud, Nor bears the o'erwhelming pang : 324 THE .^NEID. " Me, guilty me, make me your aim, O Rutules ! mine is all the blame ; He did no wrong, nor e'er could do ; That sky, those stars attest 'tis true ; Love for his friend too freely shown. This was his crime, and this alone." In vain he spoke : the sword, fierce driven. That alabaster breast had riven. Down falls Euryalus, and lies In death's enthralling agonies : Blood trickles o'er his limbs of snow ; " His head sinks gradually low : " Thus, severed by the ruthless plough, Dim fades a purple flower : Their w^eary necks so poppies bow, O'erladen by the shower. But Nisus on the midmost flies. With Volscens, Volscens in his eyes : In clouds the warriors round him rise, Thick hailing blow on blow : Yet on he bears, no stint, no stay ; Like thunderbolt his falchion's sway : Till as for aid the Rutule shrieks Plunged in his throat the weapon reeks : The dying hand has refl: away The life-blood of its foe. Then, pierced to death, asleep he fell On the dead breast he loved so well. Blest pair ! if aught my verse avail, No day shall make your memory fail From off" the heart of time. While Capitol abides in place. The mansion of the ^neian race. And throned upon that moveless base Rome's father sits sublime. BOOK IX. 325 With conquest crowned, of trophies proud, The Rutule warriors, weeping loud, Slain Volscens campward bring : Nor fewer tears in camp are shed For Rhamnes and Serranus dead. By one fell stroke their noblest sped To darkness, chief and king. Crowds gather to the spot, where lie The bodies, dead or soon to die, And see the place afloat with blood And frothing gore in many a flood. From hand to hand they pass the spoil : Messapus' helm they know, And trappings gay, with deadly toil Recovered from the foe. Now, rising from Tithonus' bed. The Dawn o'er earth her radiance spread : When all is flooded by the ray, And nature lies exposed to day. Bold Turnus, armed from head to heel, Inflames the warriors' martial zeal : Each to his followers makes appeal. And goads them to engage : Moreover, fixed on lifted spears, (Where in that hour were human tears?) Two gory heads they thrust to view, Euryalus' and Nisus' too. With cries of hate and rage. Troy's iron sons array their fight On the left rampart — for the right Adjoins the river shore : — Above their breadth of moat they stood In lofty turrets, sad of mood : And horror on their spirit fell To see those heads they knew so well Dripping with loathly gore. 326 THE ^SNBIJD. Tlu-ough the pale ranks ran winged Famc^ And swiftly to the mother came Of lost Euryalus : the start Sent icy chillness to her heart : The thread was on the shuttle stopped, And from her hand the spindle dropped. She rends her hair ; she shrieks aloud, And to the rampart and the crowd In wild distraction flies : No more the face of men she fears. The winged deaths, the showering spears, But fills the air with cries : " Euryalus ! returned, and thus? And could you leave me lone. Mine age's stay, in life's late day? O what a heart of stone ! This perilous adventure seek. Nor farewell to your mother speak? And you are lying, lying thrown To dogs and birds, 'neath skies unknown ; — And I, your mother, might not close Your glassy eyes, your limbs compose, Nor wash the gore away, Nor robe you in that mantle fair. Which, solacing an old wife's care, I hastened for my darling's wear. Still spinning night and day ! Where shall I seek you ? how reclaim Those headless limbs, that mangled frame? This all ? and was it this, ah me, I followed over land and sea ? O slay me, Rutules ! if ye know A mother's love, on me bestow The tempest of your spears 1 Or thou, great Thunderer, pity take. And whelm 'me 'neath the Stygian lake. BOOK IX. 327 Since otherwise I may not break This life of bitter tears ! " That wail the hearts of Troy congealed ; From rank to rank the infection ran ; Each sickens of the battle-field, And feels no longer man. Still raves the miserable dame, Still higher piles grief's frantic flame : lulus, shedding tears like rain. And old Ilioneus call their train. And Actor and Idseus come And bear her from the rampart home. Now shrills the trump its dire alarms : At once the warriors cry to arms : Heaven thunders back the note. The Volscian host a penthouse form. And strive the palisade to storm And choke the gaping moat : Some try the approach, and ladders plant Where most the battle-line looks scant. And the dark ring that crowns the wall Presents a glimmering interval. With equal zeal the sons of Troy Stout poles and missile darts employ, Taught by experience long and hard How best a leaguered wall to guard. Stones too with cruel weight they throw In hope to break the shielded foe : Sure on such fence the heaviest blow Must fall like idle hail ! See, see, at length it yields, it yields ! Where threats the densest mass of shields A rock the Trojans topple o'er : Down on the Rutule host it bore, Dashed wide their ranks behind, before, And burst their quilted mail. 328 THE .^NEID. Cowed by the shock, the Rutules bold No more engage in fight blindfold, But with a missile tempest strive The foeman from his wall to drive. Elsewhere Mezentius, grim to see, Wields Tuscan pine-stock, tall as he, And heads the desperate attack With torch-fire vapors, pitchy black : While bold Messapus, Neptune's seed, Imperious tamer of the steed. Tears down the palisade, and calls For ladders to ascend the walls. Now grant, Calliope, thine aid ; Ye Muses, prompt my lay To tell what havoc Turnus made On that too bloody day. What gallant chiefs were hurled below And what the hands that dealt the blow. Be near, and help me to unroll In length and breadth the martial scroll. Linked by strong bridges to the wall There rose a lofty tower : Italia's warriors, one and all. Assail it, bent to work its fall. With utmost strain of power : The sons of Troy with stones defend, And through the narrowed eyelets send A furious steely shower. Fierce Turnus first a firebrand flings : It strikes the side, takes hold, and clings : The freshening breezes spread the blaze, And soon on plank and beam it preys. The inmates flutter in dismay And vainly wish to fly : BOOK IX. 329 There as they huddle and retire Back to the part which 'scapes the fire, Sudden the o'erweighted mass gives way, And falling, shakes the sky. Heavily to the ground they come In piteous ruin trailed. Some pierced with falling fragments, some On their own darts impaled. Unhurt, Helenor, sole of all, And Lycus issue from the fall : Helenor, whom Licymnia bare To Lydia's king, a captive fair, And sent herself her blooming boy In interdicted arms to Troy, Trained up a naked sword to wield And bear a blank unblazoned shield. Soon as the Rutule hosts he found And Turnus' squadrons close him round. As beast by hunter crowds beset Makes furious war on dart and net. Full at the the throat of danger flies. And spiked on serried javelins dies. So leaps the warrior on the foe Where storms of iron deadliest blow. Not so young Lycus : swifter far He threads the windings of the war, Gripes the high wall with talon clutch. And strives his comrades' hands to touch. With speed of foot and javelin's throw Fierce Turnus follows on the foe : " Poor fool ! couldst hope " the conqueror cries " To baflSe Turnus of his prize? " Then grasps him hanging, and withal Plucks down a bulwark from the wall : So Jove's fell bird bears off in air A snow-white swan or timorous hare • 330 THE ^^NEID. So from its vainly bleating dam Tears the gaunt wolf the folded lamb. Loud clamors rise : they charge once more, Break down the mound, the trench bridge o'er, Or to the topmost rampart throw Their brands of pine-wood all aglow. There as Lucetius nears the gate And waves aloft the hostile flame, Ilioneus whelms him 'neath the weight Of rock that from a mountain came : Stout Liger brings Emathion low ; Asilas Corynaeus slays ; That skilled the warlike lance to throw. This wings the arrow from the bow Through unsuspected ways. Ortygius lies by Caneus slain : The victor. yields to Turnus' hands ; And Sagaris, Itys, Clonius fall, With Promolus, by Turnus all. And Idas, tumbled to the plain, As on the wall he stands. Privernus finds from Capys death : Themilla's spear had grazed him first . He flings his buckler on the ground, And claps his hand upon the wound ; Fond wretch ! the arrow wings the wind. And to his side his hand is pinned. And through the vital springs of breath A deadly passage burst. There Arcens* son stood, richly dight, In broidered scarf with purple bright. Sent by his father to the fight, A youth of glorious show. Reared in his Oread mother's wood, Beside Symaethus' gentle flood, Where day by day with victims' blood Palicus' altars flow. BOOK IX. 331 No more his spear Mezentius hurled ; Thrice round his head his sling he whirled With shrill and whizzing sound : Sheer through the warrior's temples sped With fatal aim the glowing lead ; He falls, and lies unnerved and dead O'er many a foot of ground. Then first, they say, Ascanius tried In battle-field his bow, rill then 'gainst flying silvans plied, And laid Numanus low : He late to his connubial bed Had Turnus' youngest sister led : And now, of new-worn purple proud, He stalks erect, with vaunting loud, And thus before the battle's van With wordy turbulence began. " Twice captured Phrygians ! to be pent Once more in leaguered battlement, And plant unblushingly between Yourselves and death a stony screen ! Lo, tliese the men that draw their swords To part our ladies from their lords ! What god, what madness brings you here To taste of bur Italian cheer ? No proud Atridae lead our vans : No false Ulysses talks and plans : E'en from the birth a hardy brood. We take our infants to the flood. And fortify their tender mould With icy wave and ruthless cold. Early and late our sturdy boys Seek through the woods a hunter's Joys : Their pastime is to tame the steed, To bend the bow and launch the reed. 33'^ THE u^NBID. Our youth, to scanty fare inured, Made strong by labor oft endured. Subdue the soil with spade and rake, Our city walls with battle shake. Through life we grasp our trusty spear : It strikes the foe, it goads the steer : Age cannot chill our valor : no, The helmet sits on locks of snow ; And still we love to store our prey. And eat the fruits our arms purvey. You flaunt your robes in all men's eyes, Your saffron and your purple dyes. Recline on downy couch, or weave The dreamy dance from morn to eve : Sleeved tunics guard your tender skins, And ribboned mitres prop your chins. Phrygians ! — nay rather Phrygian fair ! Hence, to your Dindymus repair ! Go where the flute's congenial throat Shrieks through two doors its slender note, Where pipe and cymbal call the crew ; These are the instruments for you : Leave men, like us, in arms to deal, Nor bruise your lily hands with steel." That ominous tongue, that boastful heart Ascanius could not bear : He drew the bowstring, poised the dart, And stood with outstretched arms apart. First calling Jove in prayer. " Vouchsafe to bless, great Sire divine, Thy suppliant's bold essay : My grateful hand before thy shrine Shall yearly offerings pay : A goodly bullock from the stall. Snow-white, his mother scarce so tall, BOOK IX. 333 Shall at thy altar stand : His horns, which gold shall overlay, E'en now anticipate the fray : His feet spurn up the sand." Jove heard, and instant from the left He thundered through the hlue : Instant the bow was heard to twang ; The shaft along the welkin sang, Numanus' haughty head it cleft, And pierced his temples through. " Go, vent on worth your idle taunts : Such answer to Rutulian vaunts Twice captured Phrygians send ! " Ascanius spoke : the sons of Troy Mount skyward in their rapturous joy. And heaven with shoutings rend. Phcebus that hour from heaven's dim height Surveyed the fortunes of the fight, And thus from off his throne of cloud Bespoke the youthful victor proud : " 'Tis thus that men to heaven aspire : Go on, and raise your glories higher, Of gods the son, of gods the sire ! Beneath Assaracus's seed The war-worn land shall cease to bleed. Nor may our narrow Troy contain The compass of so grand a reign." So speaking, from the skies he darts, The fluttering air before him parts, And quickly to Ascanius hies, In Butes' venerable guise. Once Butes kept Anchises' door, Anchises' arms in battle bore : Now other cares his age employ, The guardian of the princely boy. 334 THE .^NEID. So moves the god : voice, color, all, The veteran's lineaments recall, The silvery honors of his head, His armor, resonant with dread ; And thus vv^ith words of mild control He calms that young, ambitious soul : " Enough, -Eneas' son, to know Your hand, unharmed, with shaft and bow Numanus' life has ta'en ; Such glory to your first of fields Your patron god ungrudging yields. Nor robs of praise the arms he wields : From further fight refrain." So Phoebus speaks, and speaking flies : One moment beams on mortal eyes. Then mingles with the ambient skies. The Dardan chiefs the godhead knew : His flashing weapons caught their view : They heard his quiver as he flew. So now at great Apollo's beck Ascanius' martial zeal they check : Themselves renew the doubtful strife, And freely jeopardy their life. Rings through the camp the war-shout's peal ! They bend their bows and hurl the steel Which leathern thong reclaims : Spent javelins all the ground bestrow : Helmet and shield rebound the blow : A savage fight upflames. So furiously from westward sped, The Kid-star lowering overhead. Wild tempests lash the plain : So on the sea the hail falls fast. When Jove, dread lord of southern blast, His watery volleys flings broad-cast, And opes the springs of rain. BOOK IX. 335 Pandarus and Bitias, brethren twain, Descended of Alcanor's strain (laera bore them, nymph divine : Their stature matched the hill-side pine Or e'en the hills' own height), Throw wide the gate they held in charge, And trusting but to spear and targe The foe's advance invite. Themselves within the gateway stand. Fronting the towers on either hand. Magnificent in steel array. And toss their plumes on high : So two fair oaks that proudly grow On banks of Athesis or Po Their unshorn heads aloft display And tower into the sky. With eager joy the Rutules see The gates thrown wide, the entrance free, And pour by hundreds in : Full soon Aquicolus the fair. With Quercens, Haemon, fiery Tmare, To flight with all their followers turn, Or with their heels the threshold spurn But now they thought to win. Fierce and more fierce the combat glows : In gathering ranks the Trojans close, Nor fiirther onset wait. But foot to foot defy their foes. And press beyond the gate. Meanwhile to Turnus, as afar On other parts he launches war And mars the foe's array, Comes word that, flushed with blood new-shed, The sons of Troy forget their dread. And wide their gates display. 33^ THE ^.NEID. Fell rage inspiring all his mind, The unfinished work he leaves behind, And rushes to the gates amain To cope with that presumptuous twain. First on Antiphates he bore, Whom chance had planted in the fore, The great Sarpedon's spurious seed. Born of a dame of Theban breed. The cornel hurtles through the skies ; Straight to the stomach's pit it flies. And lodges 'neath the bosom's core. While the dark cavern wells with gore. Then Merops, Erymas the brave. And young Aphidnus find a grave. And Bitias, as with eyes aglow And bursting rage he fronts his foe : No dart was thrown : a puny dart Had scarcely reached that giant heart •, No, 'twas a huge falaric spear, Thundering in levin-like career, . That left the victor's hand : Not two bull-hides, nor corslet mail, Though plaited twice with golden scale. The onset might withstand. The vast frame tumbles on the field ; Groans the jarred earth, loud clangs the shield. 'Tis thus descends in later day The granite pile in Baiae's bay, Compact of many a block : E'en thus, in mighty downfall sped, It sinks into the oozy bed With vast reverberant shock : Up mounts the sand from depths profound : Lone Prochyta perceives the sound Thrill deep through cave and rock, BOOK IX. 337 And Arime, by Jove's behest Firm fixed on Typhon's monster breast. Now Mars omnipotent imparts Fresh vigor to the Latian hearts, While on the Trojan band Dark fear he sends and coward flight : The Italians claim the proffered fight, And fury nerves each hand. When Pandarus saw his brother slain And knew the tide had ebbed again. He sets his shoulders to the gate And backward rolls the enormous weight, Leaving in miserable rout Full many a hapless friend shut out, While others through the entrance pour, And saved from carnage, breathe once more. Fond fool ! amidst the noise and din He saw not Turnus rushing in, But closed him in the embattled hold, A tiger in a helpless fold. From those fierce eyes new terrors blaze ; His arms around him clash : The red plume on his helmet plays, And from his shield reflected rays Like living lightning flash. At once the trembling Trojans know The dreaded presence of their foe : But Pandarus onward flies : In his proud breast his brother's fate Awakes the flames of rage and hate, And thus in scorn he cries : " Not this Amata's promised dower, Your royal dome, your bridal bower, Nor Ardea's native town enthralls Her Turnus in her friendly walls : 338 THE .^NEID. A hostile camp around you see, Shut in without the power to flee." Then Turnus with untroubled mien : " Begin, and let your strength be seen : Soon shall you tell in Priam's ear You found a new Achilles here." Strong Pandarus launches on the wind A knotted spear, unpeeled its rind, With mighty effort flung : Saturnia caught it as it came And turned it from its destined aim : Fixed in the gate it hung. " Not thus shall err my trusty brand. Sped by a surer, stronger hand : " Then, rising tiptoe as he speaks, Turnus uplifts the falchion keen : With force resistless sweeping down It crashes on the warrior's crown. And ample brows and beardless cheeks Are severed clear and clean. At once the mighty ruin sounds ; The firm earth trembles and rebounds ; His armor, splashed with blood and brain. His giant members load the plain : On either shoulder, cleft in twain. The ghastly head is seen. The Trojans fly in wild dismay : O, then had Turnus thought To force the fastenings of the gates And call within his valiant mates. The nation and the war that day Alike to end had brought ! But rage and blind desire to slay Still drive him on the recreant prey. First Phalaris beneath him dies And Gyges, hamstrung as he flies : BOOK IX. 339 Forth from the slain he plucks each spear, And hurls them on the fliers' rear, While Juno nerves him for the strife, And breathes within diviner life. Then lays he Halys on the field And Phegeus, cloven through his shield : Alcander, Halius, Prytanis, And young Noemon, all Are slaughtered, ere their foe they wis, And tumbled from the wall : And Lynceus, who in vain essayed The strife, and called his friends for aid : His right knee propped against the mound, He swings his weighty falchion round : Head-piece and head, by one sure wound Cut off", at distance fall. Then huntsman Amyous succeeds : None better knew to flying reeds The envenomed point to lend : And Clytius feels the conqueror's spear, And Cretheus, to the Muses dear, Cretheus, the Muses' friend : The minstrel lay, the tuneful shell Had touched him with their magic spell, And still the warrior strung To martial themes his glowing lyre. And arms, and men, and steeds of fire In lofty numbers sung. At last, at news of Troy's defeat, Mnestheus and brave Serestus meet : Their friends they see in wild retreat. Within their camp the foe : And " Whither fly ye?" Mnestheus cried : " What walls, what town are yours beside ? 34° THE .^ENEID. Shall one mere man, on all sides pent Within your mounded battlement, Such deaths have dealt, such warriors sent Unvenged to shades below? Feel ye no shame, no manly grief For gods, for country, or for chief, O craven hearts and slow ? " Roused by the word, they stand at lengfth, And front him with collected strength. While Turnus by degrees gives ground, And seeks the part the stream runs round. The Trojans follow, shouting loud, And closer still and closer crowd. So when the gathering swains assail A lion with their brazen hail. He, glaring rage, begins to quail And sullenly departs : For shame his back he will not turn, Yet dares not, howsoe'er he yearn, To charge their serried darts : So Turnus lingeringly retires. And glows with ineffectual fires. Twice on the foe e'en then he falls. Twice routs and drives them round the walls : But from the camp in swarms they pour, Nor Juno dares to help him more, For Iris hastens down With words from Jove of angry threat, Should Turnus make resistance yet, Nor quit the leaguered town. No longer now by force of hand Or buckler may the youth withstand, So thick the javelins play : Round his broad brows the helmet rings : Crushed by the volley from the slings Its solid sides give way. BOOK IX. 341 His plumes are reft : his shield 'gins fail, While spear on spear the Trojans hail, With Mnestheus, soul of flame. O'er all his limbs dark sweat-drops break ; No time to breathe : thick pantings shake His vast and laboring frame. At length, accoutred as he stood. Headlong he plunged into the flood. The yellow flood the charge received, With buoyant tide his weight upheaved. And cleansing off" the encrusted gore, Returned him to his friends once more. BOOK X. ARGUMENT. Jupiter, calling a council of the Gods, forbids them to engage in either party. At ^neas's return, there is a bloody battle, Turnus killing Pallas ; ^neas, Lausus and Mezentius. Mezentius is described as an atheist; Lausus, as a pious and virtuous youth. The different actions and death of these two are the subject of a noble episode. 345 BOOK X. Meantime Olympus' gate unfolds : The almighty Sire a council holds In heaven's sidereal hall, Whence earth lies open to his view, The camp of Troy, the Latian crew : The gods obey his call. And range them on their golden seats : Himself the high occasion treats : " Great powers of heaven, what change has wrought Such dire revulsion in your thought? Whence comes this madness of debate. These passions flaming into hate ? My nod forbade the Italian folk 'Gainst Teucer's sons to strike a stroke : What mean your strifes that break my law? What wild alarm could sway Or these or those the sword to draw And wake the sleeping fray ? The battle-day at length shall come (Let none foredate the hour of doom) When Carthage town shall roll On Rome's seven hills the stormy tide, And through the Alps cleave passage wide To her predestined goal : 340 THE .^ENEJD. Then may you give your hate its fill, And rage and ravage as you will : Now cease, and ratify with me The covenant I will shall be." Thus briefly Jove : but not in brief Gives Venus utterance to her grief: " Dread lord of all above, below ! For other succor none we know In this our trouble sore : Seest thou how swells the Rutules' pride ? See Turnus in his triumph ride, E'en on the crest of war's fierce tide, And bid its billows roar ! No more their walls my Trojans shield : The camp is changed to battle-field : The trenches float with gore. Our chief in ignorance bides away : What? leav'st us not one peaceful day From siege and leaguer free ? Once more there lowers o'er rising Troy A spoiler, eager to destroy, With myriads fierce as he : And Tydeus' son once more is brought, To fight, belike, as erst he fought. Aye, sooth, I ween it is decreed That Venus' wounds again shall bleed. And I, thy child, too long delay The spear that gores, but cannot slay. If unsecured by leave from thee Troy's sons have sailed to Italy, Withdravsr thine aid, and let them be. To reap their folly's due : But if thy mandates they obeyed By many a warning voice conveyed From heaven above and nether shade, BOOK X. 347 Who dares to change thy firm decree Or write the fates anew ? Why tell each bygone grievance o'er, The fleet consumed on Eryx' shore, The monarch of the storm called forth. The winds unchained, East, West and North, Or Iris sent from high ? Nay, e'en the ghosts beneath she tries (O'erlooked till now those choice allies) : Through Latian towns Alecto flies, And taints the upper sky. 'Tis not for empire now I fear : That was a hope which once was dear, But let it pass : our blood is spilt. Yet give the victory where thou wilt. But O, if yet thy cruel spouse Will grant no land where Troy may house, By Ilium's ruins I implore. By that last agony she bore. Release Ascauius from the strife. And let my grandson scape with life ! His sire may roam on unknown seas. And drift where fate or fortune please : But let me snatch the child away And save him from yon bloody fray. Paphos and Amathus are mine. And high Cythera's bower : There let him live, his arms resign. Nor dream the dream of power. On Italy let Carthage frown. He shall not vex your Tyrian town. What profit to have scaped the fight And won his way in venturous flight Through foe and fire and sword, The rage of land and ocean spent. While Troy on Latium still is bent. And hopes her towers restored ? 348 THE yENEID. Best to have fixed them on the spot Where Ilium's embers still are hot, Laid down their limbs by Xanthiis' flood And dwelt where once their city stood, O Father ! look on wretched men ; Give us our native streams again, And let our progeny repeat The old, old tale of Troy's defeat ! " Then, by her rage to utterance stirred Imperial Juno took the word : " And must I then my silence break And buried griefs to life awake ? What god above or man below Your good ^neas forced to go To war, and be Latinus' foe ? Grant that to Italy he went By fate or mad Cassandra sent : Who bade him quit his camp and trust His life to every stormy gust. Leave to a boy's weak hands to guide The war and o'er his walls preside, Seduce the Tyrrhenes, and molest The peace of nations long at rest? What force, what tyranny of ours To such misventure led ? Where then were Juno's baleful powers, Or Iris downward sped? 'Tis shame Italians should engirth Your infant Troj' with sword and fire That Turnus on his parent earth Should come and go at his desire. Though nymph Venilia gave him birth And blest Pilumnus was his sire : And shall not Troy in turn feel shame To ravage Latlum's fields with flame. ^OOK X. 349 Play despot o'er an alien soil, And carry flocks and herds for spoil, Pick marriages at will, and bear From others' arms the plighted fair, Make suit for peace with wool-wreathed bough, Yet arm her ships from stern to prow ? ^neas from the conquering Greek You filch away with ease. And cheat them, when a man they seek, With r'oud and airy breeze : You make his vessels change their guise And each and all as Nereids rise : Yet call it crime, when Juno lends Her succor to her Rutule friends. Your chief in ignorance bides away ; And in his ij^norance let him stay. Paphos and Amathus are yours, And high Cythera's shade : Why seek a sky where battle lowers, And savage homes invade? Are ours the hands that labor still The ebbing strength of Troy to spill ? Our hands ? or theirs that broke the peace And gave her to the sword of Greece? What fatal cause the quarrel sent 'Twixt continent and continent? When Paris stormed the Spartan's bed, Was mine the guiding star that led ? Armed I for war the adulterous hand. Or battle's flame with passion fanned ? Then had your terror been in place, Your fears for your beloved race : Now, all too late, you idly plain, And fling your wrongful taunts in vain." Thus pleaded Juno : and the rest Murmuring their diverse minds expressed, 350 THM u!SNEID. As newborn gales in forest pent Confusedly struggle for a vent, And rippling 'mid the leaves, inform The seaman of a coming storm. Then he begins, the Sire of all, Who rules the world at will : E'en as he speaks, the gods' great hall Grows tremulously still : The firm earth quivers to her base : High heaven is still through all its space: The winds are whispered into sleep. And waveless calm controls the deep. " Give ear, and with attention lay Deep in your hearts the words I say. Since Troy with Latium must contend, And these your wranglings find no end, Let each man use his chance to-day And carve his fortune as he may ; Rutule or Trojan let him be, Nations and names are nought to me : Or be they fates to Rutules kind That Ilium's camp in leaguer bind, Or Trojan rashness, soon betrayed, And warnings by a foe conveyed. Nor would I yet the Rutules spare : They too the common chance must share ; Each warrior from his own good lance Shall reap the fruit of toil or chance : Jove deals to all an equal lot, And Fate shall loose or cut the knot." This said, to witness his intent He called his Stygian brother's lake, The banks where pitch and sand and mud Together mix their seething flood, And as his kingly brows he bent Made all Olympus shake. BOOK X. 3SI iSo came the council to its close : Jove from his golden throne arose : The gods around their sovereign wait And lead him to his palace gate. Meantime, intent to burn and slay, The foe once more the siege essay. Pent in their camp the Trojans lie, Despair of help, yet cannot fly. Arrayed in vain, they ring the wall, A hapless remnant, thin and small. Asius Imbrasides is there, And Hicetaon's valiant heir ; The Assaraci, twin warriors they. Castor, and Thymbris old and grey In battle's forefront stand : Claros and Themon join the train. The brethren of Sarpedon slain. From Lycia's mighty land. Lyrnesian Acmon heaves a block, Vast fragment of its parent rock. Born of a race no toil that shun, Menestheus' brother, Clytius' son. These fight with stones, with javelins those, Rain fiery torches on their foes, Or bend with force unerring bows. There in the midst is Venus' care, The princely boy, his head all bare ; So, set in gold, beams forth a gem. For collar or for anadem ; So polished ivory shines Inlaid in terebinth or box ; Down his fair neck bright stream his locks, Which pliant gold entwines. 352 THE .^NBID. Thou, Ismarus, too wast seen to deal With archer craft the envenomed steel And quell their valiant powers, Thy home Maeonia's fruitful mould, Made rich by labor and the gold That bright Pactolus showers. There too is Mnestheus, raised heaven-high By Turnus made yestreen to fly, And Capys, marked for future fame. From whom fair Capua takes her name. They all day long in fight had striven With ceaseless toil and pain : And now beneath a midnight heaven yEneas ploughs the main. For when, from good Evander sent. He reached the Etruscan leader's tent, Tells what his name and whence he springs. What aid he asks, what powers he brings, What arms are on Mezentius' side. And Turnus' overweening pride, And bids him think, with sighs and prayers. What changes wait on man's affairs. Not long the conference : Tarchon plights His friendly troth, his force unites. With action swifl and brief: The Lydian race, from fate set free. By heaven's command put straight to sea Placed 'neath a foreign chief. First sails Eneas' royal ship : The Phrygian lions arm her tip. And Ida spreads its shade above. The hill that Teucrian exiles love. There sits ^Eneas on the stern. The tides that make the war to turn Deep pondering o'er and o'er ; BOOK X. 353 And Pallas, ever at his side, Asks of the stars, the night-fare's guide, Or questions of his wanderings wide On ocean and on shore. Now, Muses, ope your Helicon, The gates of song expand ; Say what the host to war comes on From forth the Etruscan strand, And, following in Eneas' train. Spreads sail, and navigates the main. See Massicus the foremost guide His Tiger o'er the deep ; A thousand warriors at his side In Clusium's lofty towers that bide And Cosffi's warlike keep : Light quivers from their shoulders hang, Their deadly bows in combat twang. Grim Abas next ; his followers bold In gleaming steel arrayed ; High on his stern, a blaze of gold, Apollo shone displayed. Six hundred Populonia gave To share his fortunes, tried and brave, And Ilva sends three hundred more, Rich island-home of Chalyb ore. Then far-renowned Asilas third, Who tells heaven's will to men : The starry sky, the victim herd. The levin-bolt, the voiceful bird. All own his piercing ken : To war he brings a mighty throng. True spearmen all, a thousand strong. The people these of Pisa's town. Whose shes from Elis erst came down. 23 354 THE y^NEID. Then Astyr, proud of youthful charms. With fiery steed and glancing arms : Three hundred men beside him fare, Nerved by one loyal will, Who Caere's home or Pyrgi share. Who breathe Graviscae's tainted air, Or Minio's cornland till. Nor shall Liguria's chief remain. Brave Cinyras, here unsung, Nor thou, despite thy scanty train, Cupavo, fair and young : From whose tall helm swan-plumes arise* Memorial of thy sire's disguise. For Cycnus, all for love, 'tis said. Of Phaethon untimely dead. Embowered amid the poplar wood Of that unhappy sisterhood. Kept plaining o'er the cruel wrong, And solacing his grief with song. Till o'er his limbs began to grow A downy plumage, white as snow ; Then to the skies he passed, and sent His voice before him as he went. And now his son in arms appears. Leads forth a host of equal years. And spreads his flying sails : High on the prow a Centaur stands, \ huge rock heaved in both his hands ; The keel behind him trails. There too great Ocnus o'er the sea Conducts his country's chivalry, Child of prophetic Manto he And Tuscan Tiber's flood ; Fair Mantua's town he built and walled And by his mother's surname called : BOOK X. .355 Fair town ! her sons of high degree, Though not unmixed their blood. Three races swell the mingled stream : Four states from each derive their birth ; Herself among them sits supreme, Her Tuscan blood her chiefest worth. Five hundred thence Mezentius draws. Sworn foes to his unrighteous cause, A helmed and shielded train : And Mincius, whom Benacus breeds, In grey apparailment of reeds Their vengeful barks to battle leads. And launches on the main. There huge Aulestes ploughs the deep With all his hundred oars : Thrown upward by the enormous sweep The billow foams and roars. A Triton on the vessel stood And blew defiance to the flood : His face a man's and half his side, A fish's all the rest : With giant force he stems the tide. And rears his savage breast. So many chiefs, a nation's flower, Across the sea conveyed In thirty ships their friendly power. And brought the Trojans aid. The day had vanished from on high, And Phcebe o'er the middle sky Impelled her chariot pale : ^neas, robbed by care of rest, The vessel's course as helmsman dressed, And trimmed the shifting sail. 356 THE .^NEID. When lo ! a friendly company Confronts him midway on the sea : The nymphs to whom Cybebe gave As goddesses to rule the wave They rode as ships before Ir. seemly order swam the flood, As many as erewhile had stood With prow^s attached to shore. From far they recognize their king And round him weave a choral ring. Cymodoce, of all the train Chief mistress of the vocal strain, Her right hand on the vessel lays, Oars with her left the watery w^ays. And borne breast-high above the seas, Stirs his awed soul with words like these ; " Still wakes ^neas, heaven's true seed? Still wake, and mend your navy's speed. Lo here the pines from Ida's seat, Now ocean-nymphs, your sometime fleet ! What time the faithless Rutule lord Bore headlong down with fire and sword, Unwillingly we broke your chain And went to seek you o'er the main. The mighty Mother of her grace In pity changed us, form and face. And called us to a life divine With other nymphs beneath the brine. Your royal heir the while is pent In palisade and battlement ; A hedge of spears is round him set. And Latian foes the camp benet, The Arcade horse with Tyrrhenes joined Have mustered at the place assigned. And Turnus bids his warlike train Waylay them, ere the camp they gain. BOOK X. 357 Up then, and soon as morn shall rise Array for fight your bold allies, And take your shield, of Vulcan's mould, Invincible and rimmed with gold. The morn shall see ('tis truth I speak). Yon plains with Rutule carnage reek." She ceased, and parting, to the bark A measured impulse gave ; Like wind-swifl arrow to its mark It darts along the wave. The rest pursue. In wondering awe The chief revolves the things he saw. Yet cheers him, and with lifted eyes Thus makes petition to the skies : " Blest Mother of the heavenly train, Whom Dindymus delights. Who lov'st the lions at thy rein. The city's tower-crowned heights. Do thou the first my arms bestead ; Confirm the sign revealed ; Draw near us with auspicious tread. Thy Phrygians' help and shield." He spoke : and now the waxing day Was climbing up the etherial way. Close on the skirts of night ; He bids the allies obey the call. Awake their courage, one and all. And gird them for the fight. And now there dawn upon his ken His leaguered camp, his gallant men, As on the stern he stands ; At once he rears his shield on high : With shouts the Trojans rend the sky : Fast and more fast their darts they ply : Hope nerves their drooping hands. 358 THE y^NBID. Such token give Strymonian cranes Beneath a gloomy cloud, What time they fly the autumnal rains With clamor hoarse and loud. With wonder strange the sudden change The Rutule leaders note, Till, backward as their eyes they bend, They see the vessels shoreward tend, And ocean all afloat. There glows like furnace fiery red The helmet on that noble head ; From the bossed shield, with gold ablaze, A stream of living lightning plays ; So comets shoot athwart the night A sullen sanguine glare ; So Sirius' star, that brings to man Fierce calenture and sickness wan. Lifts high in heaven his baleful light And saddens all the air. Yet Turnus still flames high with zeal To front the invader with the steel And drive him from the strand ; Still prompt to cheer or to upbraid He clamors to his friends for aid : " Lo, here the chance for which you prayed, To crush them sword in hand ! A brave man's hand is Mars's seat ; The coward finds him in his feet. Think, each and all, of home and wife, Think of their deeds who gave you life, Your gallant sires of old. Haste to the water's brink ; dispute The land they challenge, foot to foot, While still in helpless disarray They slide and falter in the spray . Fair fortune aids the bold." BOOK X. 359 This said, he broods what wisest way To portion out his powers, Who best may follow him to fray, Who watch the leaguered towers. Meantime by bridges linked to land ^neas disembarks his band : Some watch the ebbing of the deep, And safely mid the shallows leap : Some down the oars descending slide, And win the ascent in spite of tide. Stout Tarchon rolls his ranging eyes, Till on the shore a place he spies. Where no chafed billows seethe and boil, No broken waves in wrath recoil. But ocean without let or breach Runs gently up the shelving beach ; Thither at once his fleet he steers, And then salutes his comrades' ears : " Now, gallants, now each sinew strain, Your bounding bark upheave ; Pierce with your beaks the hostile plain ; Let the long keel with might and main Its own broad furrow cleave ; Give me but once the land to seize, The ship may break, if Fortune please." Nerved by the word, each plies his oar And onward drives 'mid surge and foam, Till every bark attains the shore And every keel finds scatheless home. Less happy their adventurous chief; His vessel, fastening on a reef. Long hangs in doubtful poise, and braves The onset of the baffled waves ; Till the strained sides at last give way And land the seamen 'mid the spray. 360 THE .^NBID. There as they struggle, floating wreck And shattered oars their progress check, And billows, ebbing in retreat, Draw back, and wash them from their feet Nor eagei Turnus long delays : He musters all his band fo front the Trojans, and arrays For conflict on the strand. The clarions sound : ^neas first On Latium's ranks in havoc burst. And laid the rustics low : First falls, an augury of the fight. Huge Theron, who with giant might Assailed the godlike foe : Through mail and gold-wrought tunic driven The fatal sword his side has riven. Then hapless Lichas meets his doom, Who, ripped from his dead mother's womb. To Phoebus vowed the cherished life That 'scaped the peril of the knife. Strong Cisseus and tall Gyas feel, As death with ponderous clubs they deal, The griding of the conqueror steel. Nought vantaged them in that dread hour Herculean arms nor hands of power. Nor he, the sire who gave them birth, Melampus, soul of purest worth. Long as Alcides toiled on earth. Still constant at his side. See, open-mouthed as Pharus cries. Full in his face the weapon flies. And stops his vaunting pride. Thou, Cydon, too, whose eager quest Young Clytius' heart would move, BOOK X. 361 'Neatli that dread arm the field hadst pressed, Forgetful of thy love, But thy brave brethren, Phorcus' seed, Were near thee in thy direst need ; Seven mighty men, they front the foe ; Seven javelins all at once they throw. Some from his helm and shield rebound, And, falling harmless, strew the ground ; While others, hurled with truer aim. Kind Venus wards from off his frame. Then to Achates cries the king : " Quick, give me store of darts to fling : No spear shall thirst in vain To dye its point in Rutule blood Which erst in corpse of Grecian stood On Ilium's fated plain." He grasped his mighty lance and threw ; Through Mason's shield the weapon flew, And breast and breastplate rends. Alcanor brings his brother aid ; The falling chief his hand has stayed : In vain : the fell spear holds its course. Cleaves the stretched arm with fatal force, And dangling from the shoulder-blade The severed hand depends. Then gallant Numitor outdrew The javelin that his brother slew And at ^neas sent : The erring weapon cleft the sky, Just grazed Achates' brawny thigh. Nor gained the mark it meant. Now Clausus, who from Cures came. In pride of youth and stalwart frame, Takes up the work of death ; 362 THE .^NEID. 'Neath Dryops' chin he drives his spear ; Through neck and throat the point cuts sheer And quenches voice and breath. The dead brow tumbles on the shore, The ghastly jaws disgorging gore. Three too from Boreas' seed of Thrace And three from Idas' ancient race Beneath his weapon bleed : The Auruncan tribes to rescue run, Halaesus first, and Neptune's son, The tamer of the steed. Then burns the fray : now these, now those Essay to dispossess their foes : E'en on Ausonia's brink they close In fierce and deathful fight. So in the amplitude of sky Discordant winds the combat try With equal rage and might : Nor blasts, nor clouds, nor waves give way : Long balanced hangs the doubtful day : In deadly grips they stand. Thus Trojan and Italian meet. With face to face, and feet to feet, And hand close pressed to hand. In other regions of the field Where stones and torn-up trees are spread Athwart a torrent's channelled bed, Young Pallas sees the Arcadians yield : Forced by the ground to put aside The gallant steeds they wont to ride. And all unused on foot to fight. They break and turn their backs in flight. Upbraiding, soothing, all he can. He prays them, taunts them, man by man : BOOK X. 2JS2, " Fiiends, whither would you fly ? for shame I O, by your former deeds of fame, Your chief Evander's glorious name, Your fights beneath him w^on, And my young hopes, that now^ aspire To match the honors of my sire, I charge you, stand, not run ! The sword, the sword must hew a pass To take you through that living mass ; There, where the battle fiercest flames, The noble land that bore us claims Her Pallas and his host. No angry heaven above you lowers : Mortal, we cope with mortal powers : The breath they draw is but as ours. Nor stronger arms they boast. Lo, here the ocean hems us in : Earth leaves no room to flee : Come, choose the goal ye mean to win ; The city or the sea ? " He said, and rushes all aglow Full on the midmost of the foe. First Lagus, led by evil chance. Confronts the inevitable lance ; Him, as in vain a ponderous stone With toiling hands he heaves. The victor strikes where deftly join The sutures of the ribs and spine, And sudden from the jointed bone The unwilling spear retrieves. On rushes Hisbo, madly fain To catch him, hampered with the slain : But Pallas, still more fleet, Prevents him, as with reckless zeal He breathes revenge, and plants the steel E'en where the heartstrings beat. 364 THE y^NBID. Then slew he Sthenelus, and base Anchemolus, of Rhoetus' race, Who dared in wantonness of crime His step-dame's wedded couch to climb Ye too were tumbled on the plain, Larides, Thymber, brethren twain, Of Daucus' honorable strain ; So like, the sweet confusion e'en Their parents' eyes betrayed ; But Pallas twin and twin between Has cruel difference made : For Thymber's head the steel has shorn ; Larides' severed hand forlorn Feels blindly for its lord : The quivering fingers, half alive. Twitch with convulsive gripe, and strive To close upon the sword. Now with his warning in their ear. His deeds before their eye, Anger and shame o'erpowering fear. His mates to combat fly. Lo, hurrying past in full career. Falls Rhoeteus by the Evandrian spear. That spear was meant for Ilus' death. But Ilus gains a moment's breath Doomed in the next to die : While Rh(Bteus comes between and bleeds. From warlike Teuthras as he speeds And Tyres' brandished steel ; Rolled headlong from the rapid car He tumbles, and the field of war Spurns with his dying heel. E'en as a swain 'mid forest trees. When summer yields the wished-for breeze, His scattered torches sends ; BOOK X. 365 At once, devouring all between, From east to west along the green The fiery host extends ; He, placed on high, beholds the while The conquering blaze with joyous smile : So, gallant youth, from far and wide Arcadia gathers to thy side, And all her succor lends. But, trained in battle's fierce alarms, Halassus round him draws his arms And springs to meet the foe. Then fell Demodocus, and then Ladon and Pheres, valiant men : That onset brought them low : A hostile hand Strymonius rears ; Stiymonius' hand his falchion shears : At Thoas' fi-ont he flings a stone. And scatters blood, and brain, and bone. Halfflsus' sire the future feared. And 'mid the woods his darling reared : When death had glazed the old man's eyes, The ruthless ParcES claimed their prize. Laid their cold finger on his heart. And marked him for Evander's dart. Now, poising long his lance in air, To Tiber Pallas made his prayer : " Grant, Tiber sire, the spear I throw Through strong Halsesus' breast may go : The spoils and armor of the foe Shall deck thy sacred oak." 'Tis heard ; and while Halsesus shields Imaon's breast, his own he yields Unguarded to the stroke. But Lausus, breath of battle's life, Lets not his followers yield the strife, By that fell carnage frayed • S66 THE .^NBID. First slays he Abas, warrior good, Who erst, like knot in sturdy wood, The edge of combat stayed. Now Tuscans, now Arcadians bleed. And Tro/s indomitable breed. The two hosts join in battle shock. Their generals equal as their might ; From every side to front they flock, Till pinioned in a deadly lock Nor arm nor dart can smite. Here Pallas bids the battle rage. There Lausus leads ; alike their age ; Both fair in form, but both denied Return to their dear land. Yet not for victory or defeat May each with each in conflict meet ; Each must his destiny abide Beneath a mightier hand. Now Turnus' sister warns her chief That gallant Lausus needs relief; At once, impetuous on his car. He cleaves a pathway through the war, And " Lay " he cries " your weapons by : I cope with Pallas, none but I ; Stand off", nor rob me of my due ; Would Heaven his sire were here to view t *" He spoke ; his mates obedient hear. And parting, leave the champaign clear. Thence as the yielding crowd retires, The brave youth pauses and admires, Much marvels at his haughty phrase, And scans his form with eager gaze ; Then, rolling round undaunted eyes, With speech as resolute replies : " Or goodly spoils shall make me great, Or honorable death ; BOOK X. 367 My sire is nerved for either fate : Loud vaunts are empty breath." He spoke, and mai-ched Into the field ; Chill fear the Arcadian hearts congealed. Down plunges Turnus from his car, Prepared on foot to fight : As when a lion from afar Beholds a bull intending w^ar, Headlong he comes with furious bound ; So fierce, advancing o'er the ground, Looks Turnus to the sight. When Pallas saw^ his foe advance Within the cover of his lance, He steps in front, in hope that chance His ill-matched powers may aid. And thus with upraised countenance To highest heaven he prayed : " Now by the board whose homely fare, A stranger, thou wast fain to share. Assist me, Hercules, I pray, In this my all too bold essay : Let Turnus' eyes in dying brook Upon a conqueror's face to look. The while I spoil him as he lies Of his stained arms, my gory prize." His votary's prayer Alcides hears ; His cheeks are bathed in fruitless tears, And deep within his laboring breast He heaves a stifled groan Whom thus the Almighty Sire addressed In grave and soothing tone : " Each has his destined time : a span Is all the heritage of man : 'Tis virtue's part by deeds of praise To lengthen fame through after days. 368 THE .^NBID. Full many a godhead's son, beside The walls of Troy, in combat died ; Nay, he, my own authentic seed, Sarpedon, he was doomed to bleed. Death waits for Turnus too : e'en now He nears the bound his fates allow." So speaking, he averts his mien. And turns him from the deathful scene. Now Pallas hurls with all his might His spear, and bares his falchion bright. Where, rising high, the brazen coat The shoulder guards, the javelin smote, Pierced the broad shield with well-meant aim, And grazed e'en Turnus' mighty frame. Then, poising long the shaft, at last His steel-tipped javelin Turnus cast. And " Let it now" he cries " be seen If this my dart be not more keen." So he : through all the metal plates, The hides of bullocks dressed That wrapped the shield in folds on folds. The fatal point its passage holds. The corslet's barrier penetrates And cleaves his manly breast. From the wide wound he plucks in vain The reeking weapon out ; The life-blood and the life amain In mingled torrent spout. He sinks collapsing on the wound ; About his limbs the arms resound ; And as he writhes in deadly pain His fierce teeth bite the hostile plain. Spanning the dead with haughty stride, " Arcadians, hear me " Turnus cried : BOOK X. 36s " Say to your monarch I remit His Pallas, handled as was fit. The solace of a tomb, the meed Of burial, freely I concede. Who to vEneas plays the host Must square the glory with the cost." Then with his foot the corpse he pressed. And stripped the belt from off the breast. The ponderous belt, whose sculptured gold A tale of crime and bloodshed told. Those fifty bridegrooms, slain in bed E'en on the very night they wed : Once Clonus' work : now proudly worn By Tumus in his hour of scorn. O impotence of man's frail mind To fate and to the future blind. Presumptuous and o'erweening still When fortune follows at its will ! Full soon shall Turnus wish in vain That life untouched, those spoils unta'en, And think it cheap to spend his all. Could gold that bloody deed recall ! But Pallas lifeless on his shield His weeping comrades bear from field. O sad, proud thought, that thus a son Should reach a father's door ! This day beheld your wars begun : This day beholds them o'er. The while you leave on yonder plain Vast heaps of Rutule warriors slain ! No random fame of ill so great. But surer messenger of fate To brave ^neas hies ; Tells him the day is well-nigh lost ; 'Tis time to aid the routed host, While yet the moment flies. 370 THE .^NEID. With brandished sword he storms along, And hews a passage through the throng, Still seeking Turnus, newly red With slaughter of the mighty dead. Pallas, Evander, all, they stand Like life before his sight, The board that welcomed him, the hand In warm affiance plight. Four hapless youths of Sulmo's breed And four who Ufens call their sii^e He takes alive, condemned to bleed To Pallas' shade on Pallas' pyre. At Magus then his spear he threw ; But Magus from the death withdrew. Came crouching up, while o'er his head The quivering lance through ether sped. And clasped the victor's knees and said : " By your great father's shade I pray, By young lulus' dawning day. In pity deign my life to spare For my gray sire, my youthful heir. A lofty house is mine : a hoard Of silver in its vaults is stored, And piles of wrought and unwrought gold Are treasured there, of weight untold. Not here the crisis of the strife. Nor victory hangs on one poor life." He ceased : immovable and stern yEneas thus made brief return : " Nay, spare your gold and silver heap : Those treasured hoards your heirs should keep. Since Turnus shed out Pallas' gore, The bartery of war is o'er : So deems my gallant son, and so My father's spirit down below : " BOOK X. 371 Then seized him by the helm, and smote With deep-plunged blade his back-drawn throat Not far Haemonides the, good, Apollo's priest and Dian's, stood. His brow with sacred fillet wreathed. His limbs in dazzling armor sheathed : He meets him, chases, lays him low. Stands o'er the immolated foe. And shadows him like night : Serestus on his shoulders proud Bears the bright arms, a trophy vowed To thee, stern lord of fight. Now Caeculus, of Vulcan's seed. And Umbro, nursed in Marsian airs, Bid the spent war afresh to bleed : The Dardan chief against them fares. Stout Anxur's hand and all his shield His sword has tumbled on the field : Poor wretch ! he deemed that muttered charm Had power destruction to disarm, And, proudly swelling to the spheres, Dreamed of hoar locks, and length of years. E'en as the hero wreaked his wrath Came Tarquitus athwart his path, Whom Dryope to Faunus bore : Refulgent armor cased him o'er. The Dardan spear, with force addressed, Drives shield and corslet on his breast ; Then while in vain he pours his prayers And many a plea for life prepares. His shapely neck the falchion shares : Down falls the body, reft of head. And thus ^neas taunts the dead : 372 THE .^NEID. " Lie there, proud youth ! no mother dear Shall lay you on your father's bier : Your corpse shall rot above the soil, The eagle's and the raven's spoil, Or drift unheeded down the flood, While hungry fish shall lick your blood." Antaeus next and Lucas die. The flower of Turnus' chivalry. With Numa, cast in valor's mould. And Gamers with his locks of gold. Of noble Volscens' ancient strain. Who, lord of many a wide domain, O'er mute Amyclse stretched his reign. As when of old ^gseon strove Against the majesty of Jove, With fifty heads, so legends say, A hundred hands, he waged the fray ; Each head disgorged a stream of fire To match the lightnings of the Sire ; Each hand flashed forth a sword, or peah Responsive thunder on the shield : So, when Eneas' blade was warmed, O'er all the plain at once he stormed. Now on Niphseus' four-horse car And towering crest he turns the war : Soon as the advancing coursers spied, That dreadful port, that lofty stride. Appalled they start, their lord unseat, And backward to the shore retreat. See Lucagus and Liger ride. In one fair chariot, side by side. One brother skilled the reins to guide, While one the falchion plies, .^neas stays their bold career. Confronts them with uplifted spear ; When thus proud Liger cries : BO OK X. 373 " Not these the steeds of Diomed, Nor this Achilles' car, Nor Phrygia's plains before you spread : This land shall see the invader dead, And terminate the war." Thus Liger madly vaunts : the foe Speaks not, iait answers with a blow. As Lucagus low bends him o'er The chariot's rim his steeds to smite, And with left foot advanced before, Prepares him for the doubtful fight, Just where the shield's last sutures join Comes the fell spear, and strikes the groin. He, from his chariot overthrown, Down toppling, on the field lies prone : And thus in sharp contemptuous strain yEneas glories o'er the slain : " So, friend, no shadows seen from far Have turned to flight your luckless car ; No frightened horses caused its shame : Its nimble lord is all to blame." Then on the steeds his hand he laid. When sliding from the seat The wretched brother knelt and prayed, A suppliant at his feet : " O, by your own illustrious worth, By those who gave such greatness birth. Brave chief of Troy, your suitor spare " — The warrior stopped his further prayer : " Not this the strain you breathed so late : Die ; brother should be brother's mate." His sword unlocks the springs of breath, And opes a way to let in death. So plies the chief his work of blood Through the wide field, like torrent flood Or black tempestuous wind • 374 THE yENEID. Ascanius and his leaguered train Take heart, and issue on the plain, And leave their camp behind. Then Jove addressed the spouse of Jove : " Sweet sister mine and wredded love, Who now will do your judgment wrong? 'Tis Venus makes these Trojans strong, Not those vain powers they deem are theirs, The hand that strikes, the soul that dares." " Ah why," she answered, " gracious Sire, Torment a heart that fears your ire ? Had I the power I owned erewhile. The power that suits my queenly style, I then had moved your will That Turnus, rescued from the strife, Should yet enjoy his precious life. And bless old Daunus still. Now let him die, though just and good. And glut his foes with guiltless blood. Yet from our race he draws his name ; From old Pilumnus' loins he came ; And altars, crowned with offerings fair. Attest his worth and claim your care." To whom in brief thus made reply The ruler of the ethereal sky : " If all for Turnus you would crave Be respite from an open grave. And so my mind you read, Let the doomed youth have space to fly And scape awhile his destiny : So much may Jove concede : But know, if 'neath your prayer you hide Some deeper, larger boon beside, And think to change the war's set tide, 'Tis empty hope you feed." BOOK X. 375 The queen returns with streaming eyes : " What if your heart should give That further boon your lip denies, And suffer him to live ? Now on the blameless victim wait The powers of doom, or blind to fate I wander all astray. Yet O ! may Juno's fears be vain, And He that can, in mercy deign To choose the better way ! " Then from the sky with eager haste She stoops, a storm-cloud round her waist, And, driving tempest as she flies, Down to the embattled hosts she hies. A phantom in Eneas' mould She fashions, wondrous to behold. Of hollow shadowy cloud. Bids it the Dardan arms assume, The shield, the helmet, and the plume. Gives soulless words of swelling tone, And motions like the hero's own, As stately and as proud ; Like gliding spectres of the dead. Or dreams that haunt the slumberer's bed. Now, stalking in the battle's van, The phantom menaces the man. And pours defiant cries : Turnus comes on in swift career, And hurls from far his hurtling spear, When lo ! it turns and flies. Then Turnus deems his foe retires In craven flight, and instant fires With hope's delusive glow : ".^neas! why so fast?" he cried ; " Desert not thus your plighted bride ; 37^ THE .^NEID. The land you sought for o'er the t'de This hand shall soon bestow." So clamoring, he pursues the quest With brandished falchion bare, Nor sees the transports of his breast Are lavished on the air. A ship stood fastened to the bank, With steps let down and sloping plank, The same which king Osinius bore Across the sea from Clusium's shore. Thither the feigned ^neas flies, And cowering as in covert lies ; Turnus pursues, the bridge bestrides, And scales the vessel's lofty sides. Scarce on the prow his foot had stept, Saturnia breaks the band ; The galley down the waves is swept That ebb from off* the strand : While through the plain with baffled wrath .^neas seeks his foe. And hurries all that cross his path To Dis and Death below. And now no more the phantom hides. But melts in air on high, While Turnus o'er the ocean rides Fast as his bark can fly. Amazed, unthankful for escape, He gazes on the fleeting shape, And thus in wild remonstrance cries With hands uplifted to the skies : " And couldst thou deem, Almighty Sire, Thy worshipper's offence so dire To merit doom so sore ? Whence came I ? whither am I borne ? And must I journey home in scorn, BOOK X. 377 Nor e'er behold, ah wretch forlorn, The camp, the city more ? And where are they, that gallant band. Who fieldward followed ray command ? In Death's fell grasp I left them all : I see them fly — I see them fall — I hear their dying groans. What gulf will hide me from the day? Have pity, O ye winds, I pray. And dash me on the stones ! 'Tis Turnus, yes, 'tis I that kneel ! Strand on the shoals this cursed keel. And whelm me where nor Rutule rout Nor prying fame may find me out." E'en thus he raves, and all distraught Whirls in an agony of thought. Or should he bury in his side The hard cold steel, sure salve of pride. Or plunge in ocean, swim to shore. And tempt the Teucrian arms once more. Thrice had he rushed on either fate : Thrice Jove's great spouse withstood. Looked down with eyes compassionate. And checked his maddening mood. The swift wind wafts him o'er the foam, And bears him to his father's home. Now, sped by promptings from the skies, Mezentius takes the field, and flies On Troy's triumphant van. With gathered hate and furious blows The Tyrrhene legions round him close, A nation 'gainst a man. He stands like rock that breasts the deep. Exposed to winds' and waters' sweep, 378 THE .^NEID. That bears all threats of sea and sky In undisturbed tranquillity. First Dolichaon's son he slew, Then Latagus and Palmus too ; That, as he stands, with ponderous stone He crushes, scattering brain and bone ; This, as he flies, with dexterous wound He tumbles hamstrung on the ground, There leaves him : Lausus wears his crest And glittering arms on brow and breast. Euanthes sinks beneath his spear, And Mimas, Paris' loved compeer, Whom fair Theano bore To Amycus, the selfsame night When Troy's fell firebrand sprang to light ; Now Paris 'neath his country's walls Sleeps his last sleep, while Mimas falls On Latium's unknown shore. Like wild boar, driven from mountain height By cries that scare and fangs that bite, In Vesulus' pine-cinctured glen Long fostered, or Laurentum's fen. Mid reeds and marish ground. Now, trapped among the hunters' nets, His bristles rears, his tushes whets : None dares for very fear draw nigh ; With arrowy war and furious cry They stand at distance round : E'en thus, of all Mezentius' foes. None ventures hand to hand to close : With deafening shouts and bended bows Their tyrant they assail ; He, churning foam, from side to side Glares round, and from his tough bull hide Shakes off the brazen hail. BOOK X. 379 From ancient Corjthus' domain Had Acron come, of Grecian strain, Leaving liis spouse unwed : Him dealing death Mezentius spied Clad in the robe his lady dyed And crowned with plumage red : As lion ranging o'er the wold, Made mad by hunger uncontrolled, If flying roe his eyes behold Or lofty-antlered deer. Grins ghastly, rears his mane, and hangs O'er the rent flesh : his greedy fangs Dark streams of gore besmear : So springs Mezentius on the foe : Soon lies unhappy Acron low, Spurns the soaked ground with dying heel, And stains with blood the shivered steel. Now, as Orodes strides before. He deigns not to shed out his gore By javelin's covert blow ; He heads, and meets him front to front, Not by base stealth but strength's sheer brunt Prevailing o'er his foe. With spear infixed and scornful tread Pressing the fallen, the conqueror said : ' Behold the great Orodes slain. Who stemmed the war so long ! " And at the word his joyous train Raise high the paean song. The chief replies : " Whate'er thy name. Not long shall be thy hour of pride : The same dark powers thy presence claim, And soon shall stretch thee at my side." Mezentius answers, smiling stern : " Die thou : my fate is Jove's concern." 380 THE u^NBin. This said, the javelin from the wound He plucked with main and might : A heavy slumber iron-bound Seals the dull eyes in rest profound : They close in endless night. Now Ceedicus Alcathous kills, Hydaspes' life Sacrator spills, And Orses and Parthenius feel The unbated edge of Rapo's steel : And Lycaonian Ericete And Clonius to Messapus yield. This fallen beneath his horse's feet, That foot to foot o'erthrown in field. Proud Agis pranced along the ground, But Valerus like his sires renowned The haughty Lycian slays : Salius had stricken Thronius low. But quickly finds a deadlier foe, Nealces, skilled the dart to throw Or send the arrow from the bow Through unsuspected ways. The god of war with heavy hand Impartial deals to either band The horrors of the fight : By turns they fall, by turns they strikej Conquered and conquering, each alike Intolerant of flight. In Jove's high courts the gods afar Look sadly on the unending war, And sigh to think that man below Such dire calamity should know. There Venus sits the fray to see, Saturnian Juno here : Down in the field Tisiphone Spreads havoc far and near. BOOK X. 381 Now, shaking his tremendous lance, Mezentius makes renewed advance : Huge as Orion's frame appears, What time on foot he strides Through Nereus' watery realm, and rears His shoulder o'er the tides. Or when, with ashen trunk in hand Uptorn from mountain high, He plants his footstep on the land. His forehead in the sky : So towering high in steel array Mezentius marches to the fray. .(Eneas marks him far away And hastes his mighty foe to meet : Firm stands the foe without dismay. Like mountain rooted to its seat : Then nicely measures with his eye The distance due for lance to fly. "Now hear my prayer, my spear -steel-tipped, And thou, my good right hand : A votive trophy, all equipped With spoils from yon false pirate stripped, To-day shall Lausus stand : " He spoke, and forth his javelin threw : From the broad shield apart it flew. And piercing deep 'twixt side and flank In brave Antores' frame it sank, Antores, follower in the train Of Hercules o'er land and main, Who, sped from Argos, sat him down Co-partner in Evander's town : Now, prostrate by an unmeant wound, In death he welters on the ground, And gazing on Italian skies Of his loved Argos dreams, and dies. 382 THE ^NBID. His javelin then ^neas cast ; Through triple plate of bronze it passed. Thick quilt, and hide three-fold, Till in the groin it lodged at last. But might not further hold, .^neas sees with glistening eye The Tuscan's life-blood flow, Plucks forth the falchion from his thigh, And threats the wounded foe. When Lausus thus his sire beheld, A heart-fetched groan he drew : Hot tears within his eyelids swelled. And trickled down in dew. Now let me, glorious youth, relate Your gallant deeds, your piteous fate : Should after days my labors own, I will not leave you all unknown. The sire, encumbered and unstrung. Moves backward o'er the field, And trails the spear the Trojan flung Still dangling from his shield. Forth sprang the generous youth betwixt And fearless with the combat mixed : E'en as yEneas aimed a stroke With upraised arm, its force he broke, Himself sustained the lifted blade. And, shield in hand, the conqueror stayecU Loud clamoring, the confederate train Protect the sire's retreat, And on the foe at distance rain Their driving arrowy sleet. With gathering wrath ^neas glows, And, cased in armor, shuns the blows. As when the hail's chill stores descend In tempest from the skies. BOOK X. 383 Each swain that wont the plough to tend To speedy covert flies, The traveller hides his fenceless head In caverned rock or torrent's bed, Till parting clouds restore the sun, And man resumes the day begun : So stands ^neas 'neath the blast Of wintry war, till all be past, And chiding, threatening, seeks to stay Young Lausus from his bold essay : " Fond youth ! why rush so fast on fate, And spend your strength on task too great? Love blinds you to impending ill " — In vain ; the fond youth rages still. And now more fierce the passions rise That lighten from the Trojan's eyes. And Lausus' miserable thread The hand of Fate at length must shred : Lo ! with full force yEneas drives The weapon, and his bosom rives. Through the light shield that made him bold, The vest his mother wove with gold. The blade held on : his breast runs o'er With gurgling rivulets of gore ; While to the phantom world away Flits the sad soul, and leaves the clay. But when Anchises' son surveyed The fair, fair face so ghastly made. He groaned, by tenderness unmanned, And stretched the sympathizing hand, As reproduced he sees once more The love that to his sire he bore. " Alas ! what honor, hapless youth, To those great deeds, that soul of truth* Can good .^neas show? 384 THE .^NEID. Keep the frail arms you loved to wear : The lifeless corpse I yield to share (If thought like this still claim your care) Your fathers' tomb below. Yet take this solace to the grave ; "Twas great Eneas' hand that gave The inevitable blow." With that he chides his friends' delay. And rears from earth the bleeding clay, Bedabbling as it lay with gore The dainty locks so trim before. Meantime the sire by Tiber's flood Was staunching the yet flowing blood, On tree's broad bole recumbent stayed And sheltered by its kindly shade. High on the branches hangs his casque : His arms, reposing from their task, In meadow-grasses rest : His mates stand round in friendly ring : Panting and weak, the wounded king Eases his faint neck, scattering His beard adown his breast. Of Lausus oft he asks, and sends Full many a charge by hand of friends To call him back from field. Alas ! e'en then the weeping train Were bearing Lausus o'er the plain, The mighty by the mighty slain, And stretched upon his shield. The distant wail, prolonged and drear, Smote on the sire's prophetic ear. At once in bitterness of woe He mars with dust his locks of snow, His hands to heaven despairing flings, And fondly to the body clings. BOOK X. 385 " My son ! and held I life so sweet, That I, your sire, could let you meet For me the foeman's steel, By your last gasp preserve my breath. Kept living by my darling's death ? Ay, now is exile's woe complete, Now, now my wound I feel ! Dear child ! I stained your glorious name By my own crimes, driven out to shame From my ancestral reign : My country's vengeance claimed my blood : Ah ! had that tainted, guilty flood Been shed from every vein ! Now 'mid my kind I linger still And live : but leave the light I will." Thus as he pours the bitter cry He rears him on his crippled thigh. And, though the deep wound slacks his speed, Calls proudly for his warrior steed ; The warrior steed he wont to ride. His consolation and his pride, Which ever still, at fall of night. Had borne him conqueror from the fight : And thus bespeaks in kindly tone The beast whose sorrow matched his own : " Long have we lived, if long the date Conferred on aught of mortal state : Now, Rhsebus, will we twain to-day A glorious trophy bear away. The Trojan's arms and severed head, In vengeance for my Lausus dead : Or if the vantage be denied, We twain will perish side by side : For ne'er, I ween, my gallant horse, Will soul so generous stoop perforce 386 THE JENBID. To other mastery, nor deign That Trojan hand should sleek thy mane." He said, and mounting to his selle Pressed the proud sides he knew so well, In either hand a javelin took, And his plumed crest disdainful shook ; So rushed he on the foe, While kindling in each throbbing vein A warrior's pride, a father's pain With mingled madness glow. Three times he called Eneas' name : JEiVi&as, hears the loud acclaim, And prays with fierce delight " Grant, mighty Jove, Apollo, grant This challenge prove no empty vaunt ! Begin, begin the fight ! " He said, and with uplifted spear Confronts the foe in raid career : But he : " What means this threatening strain To fright me, now my child is slain? 'Twas thus, and thus alone your dart Could e'er have reached Mezentius* heart : I fear not death, nor ask to live. Nor quarter take from Heaven, nor give. Forbear : I come to meet my end. And these my gifts before me send." He ceased, and at the word he wings A javelin at the foe : Then circling round in rapid rings Another and another flings : The good shield bides each blow. Thrice, fiercely hurling spears on spears. From right to left he wheeled : Thrice, facing round as he careers. The steely grove the Trojan bears, Thick planted on his shield. BOOK X. 387 At length, impatient of delay, Wearied with plucking spears away, Indignant at the unequal fray, His wary fence he leaves, And, issuing with resistless force, The temples of the gallant horse With darted javelin cleaves. The good steed rears and wildly sprawls, Distracted with its wound ; Then heavily on the rider falls, And pins him to the ground. Fierce shouts, enkindling all the air. From either host arise : Forth springs the chief, with falchion bare. And thus triumphant cries : " Say, where is proud Mezentius now? Where sleep the terrors of his brow?" Recovering sense, with upturned eye The Tuscan, gasping, made reply : " Stern foe, why waste your threatening breath ? He wrongs me not, who works my death. When late I dared you to the strife, I made no covenant for life. Nor he, my Lausus, e'er such pledge Extorted from your weapon's edge. One boon (if vanquished foe may crave The victor's grace) I ask — a grave. My wrathful subjects round me wait : Protect me from their savage hate, And let me in the tomb enjoy The presence of my slaughtered boy." He said, and to the conqueror's sword His throat unshrinking gave : The life-blood, o'er his armor poured, Spreads wide its crimson wave. BOOK XI. ARGUMENT. ^neas erects a trophy of the spoils of Mezentius, grants a truce for burying the dead, and sends home the body of Pallas with great solemnity. Latinus calls a council to propose offers of peace to .^neas, which occasions great animosity between Turnus and Drances. In the meantime, there is a sharp engagement of the horse, wherein Camilla signalizes herself, is killed, and the Latin troops are en- tirelv defeated. 391 BOOK XI. Morn rose meantime from ocean's bed : ^neas, though his comrades dead His instant care invite, Still wildered by the bloody day, Yet hastes his votive dues to pay With dawn of earliest light. An oak with branches lopped all round He plants upon a lofty mound. And hangs with armor bright, Mezentius' warrior panoply, A glorious trophy, vowed to thee. Great ruler of the fight. There stands the helm, besprent with gore. The spent snapped darts in life he bore, The hauberk mail, whose twisted rows Twelve ghastly apertures disclose : The buckler on the left is hung. And from the neck the falchion strung. Then thus the conqueror addressed The exulting chiefs who round him pressed ! "A mighty deed, my friends, is done : The future craves no fear ; These spoils are from the tyrant won ; See battle's first-fruits here ! Behold, the great Mezentius stands. The master-work of these my hands ! 39^ THE ^NEID. Now look to march where glory calls, To king Latinus and the walls ; Let courage dream of deeds of might, And dazzling hope forestall the fight ; So, when at last in prosperous hour Heaven bids us marshal forth our power, No ignorance shall breed delay. No coward fears our onset stay. Now turn we to our comrades slain, The mighty dead that load the plain. And pay to each the rites we owe. The sole sad joy that spectres know. Haste we," he cries, " consign to earth. The flesh that clothed those souls of worth. Who gave their precious lives to win This land of ours for us, their kin : First send we to Evander's town Brave Pallas, heir of high renown. Whose hopeful day has set too soon, O'ercast by darkness ere its noon." So spake he, dropping tears like dew ; Then sought the tent again. Where old Acoetes, liegeman true, Was watching o'er the slain, Accetes, who in times of yore Evander's arms in battle bore. Since called by fate less kind to tend The royal heir, his guide and friend. The gathered menials round him stand, And dames of Troy, a mourning band. Their flowing locks unbound. Soon as ^neas meets their sight. They shriek to heaven, their breasts they smite : The walls return the sound. BOOK XL 39.3 There when he saw the pillowed head, The bloodless features of the dead, And on the ivory breast displayed The wound th at Turnus' javelin made, Once more the pitying tear he shed, And words their utterance found : " Unhappy youth ! and can it be That Fortune, in her happier hour, Has grudged you to partake with me The spectacle of new won power. And homeward ride in conquering car. Triumphant from the field of war ? Not such the oath I swore that day To your lorn father, old and grey. When, ere he sped me on my way. He clasped my hand in fond embrace, And warned me, fierce would prove the fray, And stern the temper of the race. E'en now perchance by hope beguiled He makes oblation for his child. And calls on Heaven to save ; We sadly render to the shade Whose every debt to Heaven is paid The due that spectres crave. 'Tis yours, ill-fated, to behold The son you look for dead and cold ! Is this our proud procession ? these Our triumph's boasted pageantries, And this the pledge I gave ? But not from field of battle chased. By ignominious wounds disgraced. Your darling shall return. Nor you, his father, pray for death To stop your scant remains of breath, While he survives in scorn. 394 THE .^NEID. Mourn, sad Ausonia ! mourn thy fate, Left of thy guardian desolate, And thou, lulus, mourn ! " His wailing o'er, he gives commanu To raise the mournful load, And bids a thousand of his band Attend its homeward road. With charge to comfort and condole ; Weak cordial to the father's soul, Yet such as friendship owed : While others weave without delay Of oaken branch and arbute spray A funeral bier, and deftly spread Soft leaves above the pliant bed. There high on rural couch displayed The body of the youth is laid ; So cropped by maiden's finger lies A hyacinth or violet ; Its graceful mould, its glowing dyes Undimmed, unwasted yet. Though parent earth afford no more The vital juice it drank before. Next brings the chief two mantles fair Deep dyed with dazzling red ; Phoenicia's hapless queen whilere. So prodigal of loving care, Had wrought them for her hero's wear And pranked with golden thread. Full soon with one the lifeless frame In funeral guise he wound : The tresses that must feed the flame With one he muffled round. Then at his word in long array The attendants marshal forth the prejp. Memorials of Laurentum's fray ; BOOK XI. 395 And weapons from the foeman ta'en And fiery chargers swell the train. There walk with hands fast bound behind The victim prisoners, designed For slaughter o'er the flames ; And mighty warriors march erect 'Neath trunks with arms of foemen decked And marked with hostile names. Then sad Acoetes, worn with years, Moves on, by others led ; His breast he beats, his cheeks he tears, And rolls on earth outspread. There too is seen the dead man's car, Blood-sprinkled from Rutulian war. Then ^thon comes, his trappings doffed, The warrior's gallant horse : Big drops of pity oft and oft Adown his visage course. In sad procession others bring The lance and helm : the Rutule king Is lord of all but those : And Teucrian, Tuscan, Arcad bands, Their spears inverted in their hands. The mournful pageant close. Now, as the train at length goes by, yEneas speaks with deep-drawn sigh : " Fate calls us other tears to shed. And we must needs obey : Hail, mighty firstling of the dead ; Hail and farewell for aye ! " Then turns him back, the greeting said. And campward takes his way. Now from Laurentum's town appear Ambassadors sedate and grave ; 39^ THE .MNEID. Thick olive boughs in hand they bear, And for indulgence crave : Be burial granted to the slain Whose mangled bodies load the plain : No war may soldier wage, they say, With vanquished men and senseless clay : Who once his hosts, his kin were styled Should find him e'en in victory mild. The good yEneas owns their plea. And thus bespeaks them courteously : " What mischief, Latians, makes you slight Our proffered love, and plunge in fight? Ask ye that war in death may cease ? Fain would I grant the living peace. I had not sought you, but the voice Of oracles compelled my choice ; Fate bade me here my city place ; Nor war I with the Latian race. No ; 'twas your king forsook his word, And Turnus' arms to mine preferred. If Turnus waked the flames of strife, 'Twere just that Turnus risked his life. To end the war by force of hand And drive the Trojans from the land, If such his boast, his part had been To meet me here with blade as keen, And he had lived who won the right From favoring gods or inborn might. Go now, prepare the funeral pyre. And give your hapless friends to fire." He ended. Wildered with amaze In silence each on each they gaze. Then Drances, he whose age pursued The Daunian youth with bitter feud, BOOK XI. 397 Still prompt injurious taunts to fling, Makes answer to Dardania's king : " O great in fame, in deeds more great ! What eloquence your worth can mate ? Say, which may first our praise demand, The Just man's heart, the brave man's hand? Soon shall this grateful train convey Back to our peers the words you say. And, let but chance the means afford, Unite you to our gracious lord. Should Turnus gainsay or deny. Let Turnus seek some new ally. Nay, Latium's sons shall spend their pains To build the walls your fate ordains, And nerve and sinew task w^ith joy In shouldering up the stones of Troy." So Drances spoke : and all the rest With loud acclaim their mind expressed. For twice six days a truce is fixed, And there, while concord reigns betwixt, Teucrian and Latin, freely mixed. O'er hill and woodland stray- The sharp axe rings upon the ash ; Heaven-kissing elms in ruin crash ; The forceful wedge with stroke on stroke Splits cedarn core and heart of oak ; And bullocks, groaning 'neath the yoke, Bear the full wains away. Now Fame, sad harbinger of grief. Comes flying to the Arcadian chief. And fills with doleful trumpet blast The palace and the town ; Fame, whose shrill voice, a moment past, Had told the tale of slaughter vast And Pallas' young renown. 29^ THE ySNEIB. Swift through the gate Arcadia's bands Pour forth, with torches in their hands, So ancient rule ordains : The highway glimmers, sadly bright. One line of long funereal light, That parts the dusky plains. Now, marching mournfblly along. The Phrygians join their wailing throng. The matrons see the crowd draw nigh And rend the heaven with piercing cry. No force can old Evander stay : With breathless haste he takes his way. And falling on the rested bier Hangs o'er his child with groan and tear ; At last the refluent wave of woe Gives scanty room for speech to flow : " O Pallas ! parting from your sire Far other pledge you gave. To moderate your martial fire Nor war's worst fury brave ! I knew the young blood's maddening play, The charm of battle's first essay. O valor blighted in the flower ! O first dread drops of war's full shower ! O prayers unheard, rejected vows. And thou, my lost, my sacred spouse, Blest in thy death, nor spared to see This uttermost calamity, While I have overlived my span. To linger on, a childless man ! Ah ! had I joined the Dardan train. And fallen by Rutule javelins slain. And this your escort of the dead Conveyed me home in Pallas' stead ! Nor you, ye Trojans, I upbraid, The faith we swore, the league we made : BOOK XI. 399 A lot like this, of hopeless tears, Was due to my declining years. If early death was his decreed, 'Twas comfort that he thus should bleed. As Troy to Latium's walls he led Through fields his arm with death had spread. Nor e'en for you, dear child, could sire A worthier sepulture desire Than tliis which good ^neas deigns In honor to your loved remains, Where Phrygia's mightiest shed the tear And all Etruria tends the bier. Proud trophies to your praise they yield, The chiefs you tumble on the field : Thou, Turnus, too hadst swelled his fame, A mighty trunk with armor hung, Had time but made his years the same. His arm with equal vigor strung. But why with helpless wail delay A host impatient for the fray? Go, to your gallant prince remit My charge, upon your memory writ : If thus bereaved I linger yet, 'Tis from your hand to claim my debt. The life of Turnus, doubly due To Pallas and his father too : This niche alone is vacant still For fortune and desert to fill. Not now to glad this life of mine I ask — forbid it, powers divine ! No ; down to darkness I would bear The joy, and with my darling share." Meantime the gracious Dawn displays To wretched men her genial rays, And calls to work once more : 400 THE .MNBID. Stout Tarchon and the Trojan sire Are rearing many a funeral pyre Along the winding shore. Here, as his country's rites ordain, Each brings his brave compatriots slain. And while the dusk flames mount on high A veil of darkness shrouds the sky. Thrice ride they round each lighted pyre, Encased in glittering mail, Thrice circle the funereal fire, And raise their piercing wail. Earth, armor, all with tears are dewed, And warrior shouts and clarions rude The vault of heaven assail. There others on the embers throw Rich booty, reft from slaughtered foe, The helm, the ivory-hilted steel. The bridle and the glowing wheel : While some cast in the dead man's gear, The treacherous shield, the luckless spear. Around they butcher herds of kine. And sooth the shades with bristly swine, And cattle, from the neighboring mead Swift harried, o'er the death-fires bleed. Far down the line of coast they gaze On kinsmen shrivelling in the blaze, And fondly watch the bier, Nor tear them from the hallowed ground, Till dewy night the sky rolls round And makes the stars appear. Sad Latium for her part the while Builds otherwhere full many a pile ; Some on the field their slain inhume. Some send them forth to distant tomb. Or to the city bear : BOOK XI. 401 The rest in undistinguished mass They burn, unheeding rank or class : The wide plains flicker through the gloom With ghastly funeral glare. And now the third return of day Had made the dewy night give way : Sighing they tumble from each pyre The hills of mingled dust, And heap them, tepid from the fire, With mounded earthen crust. But in the royal city chief Swell loud and high the sounds of grief; There mothers of their sons bereft, Young brides to widowed misery left, Fond hearts of sisters, nigh to break, And orphan boys their wailing make, Cry malison on Turnus' head And execrate his bridal bed : Who fain would wear Italia's crown Alone to battle should come down. To triumph or to fall. Loud clamors Drances, and attests In Turnus' hand the issue rests. For him the Trojans call. And Turnus too can boast his throng With voices manifold and strong : The cherished favor of the queen Protects him with a mighty screen. And many a deed of valor bold And trophy won his fame uphold. While thus men's passions heave and rage And tumult fiercest burns. With doleful news the embassage From Diomed returns : 'Tis idly spent, their toil and pain. Gifts, gold, entreaties, all in vain : 402 THE y^NEID. Elsewhere must Latium seek relief, Or yield her to the Trojan chief. Latlnus quails, and bends him low Before the giant wave of woe : Heaven's wrath, in sad reverses read, The earth new mounded o'er the dead, All warn him with presaging voice ^neas is the gods' true choice : So Latium's wisest sons he calls To council in the palace halls. They meet, and flooding all the road Stream onward to their king's abode : Midmost, in age and state the chief, Latinus sits with face of grief, Invites the lately-missioned train, And bids them point by point explain. Then 4:alk is stilled, and Venulus, The charge obeying, answers thus : " Townsmen of Latium ! we have seen King Diomed in his home : Each perilous chance that lay between Is mastered and o'ercome ; The hand that levelled Ilium's towers In friendship has been clasped in ours. We found him on his work intent, By might of victor hand Rearing an Argive settlement In lapygian land. Admission to his presence gained. And privilege of speech obtained. We tender gifts to buy his grace. Inform him of our name and race, Tell who our foe, and what the cause Our embassy to Arpi draws. He hears, and with untroubled eye And courteous accent makes reply • BOOK XL 403 ' Blest nations of Ausonian strain, The heirs of Saturn's golden reign, What chance disturbs your peace, and goads To rush on war's untrodden roads ? All, all our chiefs who erst combined To sweep the Trojans from mankind (Let pass the sufferings in the field, The dead by Simois' wave concealed) Alike have drained 'neath every sky The cup of penal agony, A hapless crew, whose lorn estate E'en Priam would compassionate, As Pallas' baleful star can tell, And grim Caphareus knows too well. The perils of our warfare o'er, Outcast we fly from shore to shore ; Lo, Menelaus borne awajr To Proteus' pillars all astray ! Ulysses, sorest tried of men, 'Neath ^tna sees the Cyclops' den. What need to tell of Pyrrhus slain, Idomeneus expelled his reign, And Locrians driven, their country lost, To make their homes on Libya's coast? E'en he, Mycenae's mighty lord. Who led us when at Troy w^e warred, In his own hall shed out his life By hand of his adulterous wife : As Asia sinks in fight subdued. The paramour takes up the feud. O jealous heaven, that no return To hapless Diomed allows, To see his home's dear altars burn And greet his wished-for spouse I Nay, dreadful prodigies of ill With ghastly presence hound me still : 404 THE .^NEID. My comrades lost before my eyes Are turned to birds, and wing the skies, Haunt, cruel change, the banks of streams. And fill the rocks with piteous screams. Such was the extremity of fate On my transgression doomed to w^ait, E'er since with heavenly ichor stained My javelin Venus' hand profaned. Then ask me not to tempt anew The fight whose memory yet I rue : Since Pergamus to earth was cast I war not with the sons of Troy : I cherish not the woful past. Nor think of it with joy. The presents that your country sends May make you yet Eneas' friends. Myself have faced him on the field And tried the combat" s chance ; I know the arms his hand can wield, The thunder of his lifted shield, The lightning of his lance. Two chiefs beside in sti-ength as great Had Ida's region borne, Troy's sons had knocked at Argos' gate Unbidden, and reverse of fate Had made Achaia mourn. Count up the weary months we spent 'Neath Ilium's stubborn battlement, 'Twas Hector's and -Eneas' power Delayed so long the conquering hour, Till in the tenth slow year it came At last, with halting feet and lame. Brave warriors both alike ; but he, /Eneas, first in piety. Join hands in peace, if so ye may, But meet not arms with arms in fray.* BOOK XI. 405 Thus spoke, my lord, the monarch sage, , And thus he judged the war we wage." The ambassadors had scarcely done, Loud murmurs through the council run. Of multiform intent ; So, checked by rocks, the rapid flood Chafes wildly, loth to be withstood, And struggles for a vent, While bank and river-side around Remurmur to the impatient sound. Soon as the hum of tongues was stayed And the wild storm in quiet laid. Due preface to the gods addressed. The king enthroned his mind expressed. " I would, ye peers, that Latium's state At earlier time had claimed debate. Nor I been driven a court to call With foemen clustering round our wall. A fearful war, my friends, is ours. Waged with a race of godlike powers : No wounds their energy can tame : Win they or lose, they fight the same. Who thought on Diomed to rely Must lay that hope for ever by : Each from himself his hope must seek ; But hopes like ours, alas ! are weak. How low has fallen our common weal Your eyes can see, your senses feel. I censure none ; each gallant man Has done the most that valor can : The forces of a nation's life Have all been lavished on the strife. Now hearken while I show the scheme My doubting thoughts the wisest deem. 4o6 THE .^NEID. Wheie Tiber irrigates the plain, A tract there lies, my own domain, Stretching beyond the bounds possessed By old Sicanians, far a-west ; The Rutules and Auruncans till Its mingled range of dale and hill. Scar the rude mountain with their ploughs, And bid their herds the thickets browse. That tract, that slope of mountain pine, To Troy I purpose to resign : Let peace an equal rule ordain And make them partners in our reign ; There let the wanderers sit them down, If such their wish, and build their town : But should they other lands desire And from our soil rriay yet retire, Twice ten good vessels let us build Or more, if more may well be filled ; Good store e'en now of seasoned wood Is hewn and lying by the flood ; Fix they the rate and number ; we Give fittings, brass, and labor free. Let too ambassadors be sent Whose pleading may the peace cement, A hundred men, of noblest race, Boughs in their hands, to sue for grace, With gifts of ivory and of gold, A talent each by measure told. And these the emblems of our reign, The throne, the robe of purple grain. Give counsel for the general need. And stanch the wounds that newly bleed." Then Drances, he whom Turnus' fame Still kindled into jealous flame, BOOK XI. 407 Wealthy and dowered with wordy skill, In battle spiritless and chill, At council-board a name of weight, Powerful in faction and debate, His mother's house to kings allied. Inglorious on his father's side. Stands up, and thus with artful phrase Fans smouldering passion into blaze : " Too plain the answer that you seek. Good king, nor needs my voice to speak : The state's true interest none dispute, But muttering terror holds them mute. Let him the while free speech allow. And calm the thunder of his brow. Whose sullen mien, like baleful star Grim lowering o'er the tide of war — Ay, though with arms and death he threat My safety, he shall hear me yet — Has quenched the light of many a chief. And plunged a city deep in grief, While, trusting to retreat, he tries Troy's camp, and menaces the skies. Send one gift more, great prince, besides The rest your care for Troy provides, One more ; nor let tempestuous frown Or bluster bear your purpose down, But give your child a fitting lord, And bind two realms In firm accord. Nay, if such craven fear we feel. Let Latium to her master kneel. Pray him of grace his claim to wave And yield what king and country crave. Why drive to death your nation still, O guilty cause of all this ill ? No hope from war : for peace we sue, For peace, and peace's sanction true. 4o8 THE .^NEID. See, T you feign your bitterest foe (Nor care I though in truth 'twere so) First of the train the suit begin : Have mercy on your wretched kin, Allay your pride, confess defeat. And routed from the strife retreat ! Suffice it us, those heaps of killed, Those fields unpeopled and untilled. Or, if ambition yet has charms, If courage thus your bosom warms. If spousal kingdoms seem so sweet. Be bold, and dare your foe to meet. Forsooth, that an imperial bride May gratify our Turnus' pride. We, worthless souls, must needs be swept To death, unburied and unwept. Now, if one generous spark remains Of native fire in those dull veins, Front him that calls you, eye to eye, And, oft defied, in turn defy ! " That taunt the rage of Turnus woke : He groaned and into utterance broke : " High, Drances, swells your stream of words, When battle claims not tongues but swords : When council gathers to the hall. You still are there, the first of all : But needs not now the court to fill With that big talk you vent at will While ramparts yet the foe repel. Nor choked-up moats with carnage swell. Then roll your thunders — 'tis your way — And call me coward, as well you may ; You, whose strong hand has heaped the plain With trophied trunks and hills of slain. What glowing bravery can do We twain may try, myself and you : BOOK XL 409 No distant foemen wait our call : Behold them mustered round the wall ! Come, march we on to meet the foe ! What, Drances linger? why so slow? Has Mars found out no worthier seat That that loose tongue, those flying feet? Confess defeat? I routed? I? Who dares retail that slanderous lie ? Who, that has seen old Tiber's flood Foaming and swollen with Dardan blood, Evander's stock at once laid low, And Arcads vanquished at a blow? Not Bitias thus and Pandarus found The hand that brought them to the ground, Or the great host to death I sent By trench and hostile rampart pent. ' No hope from war.' Go, dotard, drone In ears of Dardans, or your own ; Spread wild alarms, extol the powers Of twice-foiled tribes, disparage ours. Now Myrmidons are all afraid Of conquering Phrygia's ruthless blade ; Now fails the heart of Diomede And Peleus' Larissaean seed, And Aufidus recoils with dread From Hadria to his fountain head. Or hear the trickster when he feigns He cowers before my threatening strains. And, counterfeiting fear, forsooth, Adds venom to his serpent tooth ! No, Drances ; ne'er shall you resign Such life as yours to hand of mine : No ; let it dwell with you, nor quit A mansion for its use so fit. Now, gracious Sire, my thoughts return To that your theme of high concern. 4IO THE ^NEID. If, baffled, you relinquish hope That Latium's arms with Troy may cope, If our estate have fallen so low, Crushed by a single overthrow, Nor Fortune can her steps retrace, Stretch we weak hands and sue for grace. Yet O ! were aught of valor here. Sure his were deemed the happiest cheer, Who, sooner than behold such stain. Fell prone, and dying bit the plain. But if resources still are ours, Unbroken still our martial powers, If Italy e'en yet affords Fresh tribes to draw their friendly swords, If Trojan blood in streams has run To gain the vantage Troy has won (For they too have their deaths ; the blast Of withering war o'er all has passed), Why fail we on the threshold? why. Ere sounds the trumpet, quake and fly? Time, toil, and circumstance full oft A humbled cause has raised aloft, And Fortune whom she mocked before Has placed on solid ground once more. yEtolian Diomede will send No help our efforts to befriend ; But brave Messapus yet is here, Tolumnius too, auspicious seer. And all the chiefs of all the bands That swell our ranks from neighboring lands : Nor scant the trophies that await The flower of Latium's own estate. Camilla too, the Volscian maid. Her horsemen brings in steel arrayed. If 'tis on me the Trojans call And my one life imperils all. BOOK XL 411 Not all so weak these hands of mine That I the combat should decline. Nay, though Achilles' self be there And Vulcan make him arms to wear, I yet will meet him. Here I stand, I, Turnus, like my fathers manned, And pledge the life your needs require To you and to my own wife's sire. 'Tis I the Phrygian claims to meet ; Pray Heaven the challenge he repeat. Nor in my stead let Drances pay His forfeit breath or win the day ! " Thus they in passionate debate The weary hours prolong : ^neas through the encampment's gate Leads forth his armed throng. A messenger comes hastening down And fills the palace and the town With tumult and dismay ; " The Trojan and the Tuscan train From Tiber pour along the plain In battle's stern array." A turmoil takes the public mind ; Their passions flame, by furious wind To conflagration blown : At once to arms they fain would fly : "To arms ! " the youth impatient cry : The old men weep and moan. A dissonance of various cries Keeps swelling, soaring to the skies, As when in lofl:y wood Birds settle, lighting in a cloud, Or swans make clangor hoarse and loud Along Padusa's flood. 412 THE .^NEID. " Ay, sit " cries Turnus, striking in As for an instant flags the din, " Sit still, and while of peace you prate Let foemen armed assail your gate ! " He spoke, and speaking rushed away : " You, Volusus, in arms array The Volscians' warlike power ; Lead out the Rutules : Coras too, Catillus, and Messapus, you With horse the champaign scour. Let others every inlet guard, And on the towers keep watch and ward : The residue myself obey, And follow where I point the way." Forth from the city, one 'and all. They rush, and hurry to the wall : Latinus, bowed with grief, adjourns The council and its high concerns. And oft himself he blames. Who gave not to his daughter fair A husband, to the state an heir, Nor owned the Trojan's claims. Before the gates some trenches make. Or load their backs with stone and stake : The trump peals shrill and clear : Matrons and boys enring the wall In close array : the last dread call Resounds in every ear. Now up to Pallas' rock-built fane The queen amid a matron train Is borne in stately car ; With her Lavinia, maiden chaste, Her lovely eyes to earth abased, Fair author of the war. TJeneath the dome the matrons crowd. And bid the incense smoke, BOOK XL 41.^ And thus with lamentation loud The guardian power invoke : " Tritonian maiden, name of fear, Controller of the fray, O break the Phrygian pirate's spear ! Himself in dust, protectress dear. Beneath our rampart lay ! " Impatient Turnus, all ablaze, His manly limbs for fight arrays. Now mailed with chainwork round his breast, His legs in golden cuishes dressed, His head still bare to view, He flashed in armor's golden pride. His sword loose hanging from his side, As down the height he flew ; With fervid heat his spirits glow, And eager hope forestalls the foe. As when, his halter snapped, the steed Darts forth, rejoicing to be freed, And ranges o'er the open mead. Keen life in every limb : Now hies he to the pastured mares, Now to the well-known river fares. Where oft he wont to swim : He tosses high his head, and neighs : His mane o'er neck and shoulder plays. And now Camilla at the gates With Volscian troops his coming waits. Queen as she was, with graceful speed She lighted instant from her steed : Her train the like observance pay. While, standing, she begins her say : " Turnus, if valiant lips may boast What valiant hands can do, 414 THE .^NEID. Mysalf will front the Trojan host And Tyrrhene horseman crew : Let me the field's first peril brave : Bide you at home, the town to save." With wondering eyes the chief surveyed The terrible yet lovely maid : Then thus : " What thanks can speech command, Fair glory of the Italian land? But now, since praise must needs despair To match your worth, my labor share. .<^neas — so my scouts explore — Has sent his cavalry before To gallop to the town : He with his footmen armed for fight Along the mountain's wooded height At leisure marches down. In that dark passage I prepare The invading Trojan to ensnare, That men in arms on each side set May clasp him as in hunter's net. You marshal your embattled force To grapple with the Tuscan horse ; Messapus shall attend your side. And Latium's troop the charge divide. And brave Tiburtus' missioned host ; Yourself assume the leader's post." This said, with like address he plies Messapus and his tried allies ; Then quickly on his errand hies. There is a valley, dusk and blind. For martial stratagem designed : Its narrow walls with foliage black, And strait and scant the pathway's track. Above there lies a table-land High on the far hill-top, BOOK XL 415 Where warlike deeds might well be planned, Or would men combat hand to hand, Or on the ridge in shelter stand And rocky fragments drop. The well-known way the warrior takes, And in the wood his ambush makes. Meanwhile Diana, high in air. To Opis at her side, Her huntress-comrade, chaste and fair, In mournful accents cried : " There goes Camilla to the fight, In those our arms all vainly dight, Beloved beyond the rest ; For not of yesterday there came This passion, with a sudden flame To touch Diana's breast. When Metabus, for tyrant wrong Driven from the realm he scourged so long, Privernum's ancient walls forsook. His infant girl in arms he took His banishment to share ; Casmilla was her mother styled ; He changed the sound, and gave his child Camilla's name to bear. He with his precious load in haste Was making for the mountain waste, By arrow-flights and javelins chased And thronging Volscian powers : Lo, as he hurries, Amasene, Brimming and foaming, roars between. Swollen high with new-fallen showers. Fain would he plunge and swim to shore, But paused, for love of her he bore : Long conning each expedient o'er, A course he sees at last : 4i6 THE .^NEID. A spear he bore of solid oak, Knotty and seasoned by the smoke : To its mid shaft his child he bound, With cork-tree bark encompassed round, And made her firm and fast : The spear in his broad hand he shakes, And thus to heaven petition makes : ' Latonian queen of greenwood shade, To thee I vow this infant maid : Thy dart she grasps in suppliant guise Thus early, as from death she flies : Extend, I pray, thy guardian care. And guide her through the dubious air.' Thus having prayed, the oaken beam With backdrawn arm he threw : Loud roared the billows : o'er the stream Camilla hurtling flew. Now as pursuit grows yet more near, He plunges in the foaming tide, And standing on the further side Recovers with a conqueror's pride The maiden and the spear. No peaceful home, no city gave Its shelter to the wanderer's head ; Too stern his mould such aid to crave : On mountain and in lonely cave A shepherd's life he led. 'Mid tangled brakes and wild beasts' lairs He reared his child on milk of mares, To her young lips applied the teat, And thence drew out the beverage sweet. Soon as on earth she first could stand. With pointed dart he armed her hand, And from her infant shoulder hung A quiver and a bow. BOOK XL 417 For coif and robe that sweeps the ground A tiger's spoils are o'er her wound. E'en then her tiny lance she flung, Or round her head the tough hide swung, And with her bullet deftly slung Brought crane or cygnet low. Full many a Tyrrhene dame has tried To gain her for her offspring's bride : Content with Dian, in the wood Unstained she keeps her maidenhood. Ah ! had she war's contagion fled, Nor with the multitude been led The Trojans to molest ! My true companion she had been, The chosen favorite of her queen, In that free service blest. Now, since the fatal hour is nigh. Descend, dear goddess, from on high To Latium's frontier, where the war Is joining under evil star. Take these my weapons of offence, And draw the avenging arrow thence. That whoso may her life destroy, Be he from Italy or Troy, His forfeit blood may pay ; I in a hollow cloud will bear Her corpse and armor through the air And in her country lay." Fair Opis heard the w^ords she said. Then in a storm concealed With swift descent through ether sped, While loud her weapons pealed. Meantime the Trojans near the wall, The Tuscans and the horsemen all, In separate troops arrayed : 27 4i8 THE u^NEID. Their mettled steeds the champaigir spurn, And chafing this and that way turn ; Spears bristle o'er the fields, that burn With arms on high displayed. Messapus and the Latian force And Coras and Camilla's horse An adverse front array : With hands drawn back, they couch the ?pear, And aim the dart in full career ; The tramp of heroes strikes the ear, Mixed with the charger's neigh. Arrived within a javelin's throw The armies halt a space : when lo ! Sudden they let their good steeds go And meet with deafening cry : Their volleyed darts fly thick as snow, Dark shadowing all the sky. Tyrrhenus and Aconteus rash With lance in rest together clash. And falling both with hideous crash Inaugurate the strife : Each gallant steed has burst its heart : Like spring-launched stone or lightning's dart Hurled is Aconteus far apart, And spends on air his life. At once the line of battle breaks : The Latians one and all Sling their broad bucklers on their backs And gallop toward the wall : The Trojans follow them apace ; Asilas leads the martial chase. And now the gates were well in sight, When with a ringing shout The Latian hosts renew the fight. And wheel their steeds about. BOOK XI. 419 The Trojans fly with loosened reins, And pour promiscuous o'er the plains : Thus ocean, swaj ing to and fro. Now seeks the shore with onward flow, Rains on the cliff the sprinkled surge. And breaking bathes the sand's last verge, Now draws the rocky fragments back And quits the sea-board, faint and slack. Twice to their walls the Tuscans beat The routed Rutule foe, Twice, looking back in swift retreat, Their shields behind them throw. But when a third time hand to hand The hosts in deadly rnSWe stand And man with man they close. Then deathful groans invade the sky ; Arms, men, and horses soon to die Blent in promiscuous carnage lie ; Like fire the combat glows. Orsilochus, afraid to front Bold Remulus in battle's brunt, Full at his charger flings a spear, And leaves it lodged beneath the ear. The generous beast, distraught with pain, His forefeet lifts and rears amain ; The rider tumbles to the plain, lolas by Catillus dies, Herminius too, of giant size, Nor less in spirit bold : Bare was his head ; his shoulders bare Sustain a yellow length of hair ; No wounds the doughty warrior scare, So vast his martial mould : Through his broad chest the spear is driven ; He writhes, by deadly anguish riven. 420 THE yMNEID. With rivulets of slaughter reeks The stern embattled field, While each deals havoc round, or seeks The glory death-wounds yield. But fierce Camilla stems the fight With all an Amazon's delight. One naked breast conspicuous shone By looping of her golden zone : And now she rains an iron shower, Thick pouring spears on spears, And now with unabated power Her mighty axe she rears ; Behind her sounds her golden bow. And those dread darts the silvans know. Nay, should she e'en perforce retreat. Flying she wings her arrows fleet. Her favored comrades round her stand, Larina maid, her strong heart manned, TuUa, Tarpeia, axe in hand, Italia's daughters they. Whom erst she chose, attendants true, Her bidding resolute to do In peace or battle-fray : So on Thermodon's echoing banks The Amazons array their ranks. In painted arms of radiant sheen Around Hippolyte the queen. Or when Penthesilea's car Triumphant breasts the surge of war ; The maidens with their moony shields Howling and leaping shake the fields. Who first, who last, dread maiden, died By thy resistless blow ? How many chiefs in valor's pride Didst thou on earth lay low? BOOK XL 421 First fell Eunasus, Clytius' heir : His breast, unguarded left and bare, Receives the lance's wound : He vomits forth a crimson flood. Writhes dying round the fatal wood. And bites the bloody ground. Then Pagasus and Liris bleed : One, tumbled from his wounded steed, Is gathering up the rein. One strives his helpless hand to reach To his fallen friend ; that moment each Lies prostrate on the plain. With these, the tale of death to swell, Hippotades Amastrus fell : Then as in wildering rout they run She bids her darts pursue Harpalycus, Demophoon, Tereus and Chromis too : A Phrygian mother mourned her son For every lance that flew. Afar in unknown arms equipped See Ornytus the hunter ride On lapygian steed : a hide Enswathes him round, from bullock stripped ; A wolf's grim jaws, whose white teeth grin, Clasp like a helmet brow and chin : A club like curving sheep-hook planned In rustic fashion arms his hand ; On high he lifts his lofty crest That towers conspicuous o'er the rest. , Hampered by helpless disarray She catches him, an easy prey. Transfixes, and in bitter strain Contemptuously insults the slain : " Tuscan, you deemed us beasts of chase That fly before the hunter's face : 422 THE .^NBID. A woman's weapon shall unteach Your misproud tribe that boastful speech ! Yet take this glory to your grave, Camilla's hand your death-wound gave." Orsilochus and Butes then (In Troy's great host no huger men) Their lives successive yield : Butes she pierces in the rear With her inevitable spear, The corslet and the helm between. Just where the sitter's neck is seen And hangs the left-hand shield : Orsilochus she traps by guile : She flies and he pursues the while, Till, as in narrowing rings he wheels, Each treads upon the other's heels : Then, rising to the stroke, she drives Her weighty battle-axe, and rives The helmet and the crown. E'en as he sues for grace : again The blow descends : the spattered brain The severed cheeks runs down. Now Aunus' warrior son by chance Meets her, and quails before her glance, Not meanest of Liguria's breed. While fate allowed his tricks to speed. So, when he sees no means to fly Or put that dreadful presence by, What artifice can do he tries. And thus with feigned defiance cries : " Good sooth, 'tis chivalry indeed : A woman trusts her mettled steed ! Come now, discard those means of flight, And gird you for an equal fight : Stand face to face, you soon shall see Whom boasting favors, you or me." BOOK XI. 423 Stung by the insult, fjery-souled, She gives her mate her horse to hold, And stands with stainless buckler bold And bare uplifted steel. The youth believes his arts succeed : Turning his rein with caitiff speed He flies, and gores his panting steed With iron-pointed heel. " Ah ! base Ligurian, boaster vile, In vain you try your native guile : Trickster and dastard though vou be, False Aunus you shall never see ! " With foot like fire, in middle course She meets and heads the flying horse. Confronts the rider, lays him low, And wreaks her vengeance, foe on foe. Look how the hawk, whom augurs love, With matchless ease o'ertakes a dove Seen in the clouds on high : He gripes, he rends the prey forlorn. While drops of blood and plumage torn Come tumbling from the sky. But not with unregardful gaze The sire of heaven the scene surveys From his Olympian tower : He bids Tyrrhenian Tarchon wage A deadlier fight, and stirs his rage With all ungentle power. From rank to rank the chieftain flies. The yielding troops with menace plies, Calls each by his familiar name, And wakes again the expiring flame : " What panic terror of the foe. What drowsy spell has made you slow, O hearts that will not feel ? 424 THE yENEID. A woman chases you — ye fly : Why don that useless armor? why Parade your idle steel ? Yet all too quick your ears to heed The call of laughing dames, Or when the piper's scrannel reed The Bacchic dance proclaims : Then with keen eyes and hungry throat On meat and brimming cups ye gloat, Till seers announce the victim good And feast-time bids you to the wood." This said, prepared himself to bleed, 'Gainst Venulus he spurs his steed. Plucks from his horse the unwary foe And bears him on his saddle-bow. All Latium turns astonished eyes. And deafening clamors mount the skies ; Swift o'er the champaign Tarchon flies. The chief before him still : The spearhead from the shaft he broke. And scans him o'er, to plant a stroke Which may the readiest kill : The victim, struggling, guards his neck, And still by force keeps force in check. E'en as an eagle bears aloft A serpent in her taloned nails ; The reptile writhes him oft and oft. Rears in his ire his stiffening scales, And darts his hissing jaws on high : She with quick wing still beats the sky. While her sharp beak his life assails : So Tarchon from the midmost foe In triumph bears his prey ; His heartened Lydians catch the glow, And back their chief's essay. BOOK XL 425 Now Artuns, Fate's predestined prize, Circles Camilla round, His javelin in his hand, and tries The easiest way to wound. Where'er she leads the fierce attack, He follows, and observes her track : Where'er she issues from the rout. He deftly shifts his reins about : Explores each method of advance, Wheels round and round, weighs chance with chance. And shakes the inevitable lance. Just then rich Chloreus, priest of yore To Cybele, bedizened o'er With Phrygian armor shone. And spurred afield his charger bold, A chainwork cloth with clasp of gold Around its body thrown. He, clad in purple's w^ealthiest grain, The work of looms beyond the main, Launches untiring on the foe Gortynian shafts from Cretan bow : Behind a golden quiver sounds, A helm of gold his head surrounds : His saffron scarf, with gold confined. Flaunts, light and rustling, in the wind : And hose of gay barbaric wear And broidered vest his race declare. Perchance the huntress sought to gain Troy's spoils, to deck a Volscian fane ; Perchance herself she would adorn In that bright gold, so proudly worn : Whate'er the cause, from all about She singles, follows, tracks him out, And winds him through the embattled field, Her eyes to coming danger sealed. 426 THE ufTlNBID. While all the woman's fond desire For plunder sets her soul on fire. His moment Arruns marked : he aims His dart, and thus to heaven exclaims : " Lord of Soracte, PhcBbus sire, Whose rites we Tuscans keep, For whom the blaze of sacred fire Lives in the pine-wood heap, While, safe in piety, we tread. Thy votaries we, on embers red, Grant, mightiest of the gods above, My arms may this foul stain remove ! No blazonry I look to gain. Trophy or spoil, from maiden slain ; My other deeds shall guard my name, And keep the doer fresh in fame ; This fury let me once bring low, Home unrenowned I gladly go." Apollo granted half his prayer : The rest was scattered into air. With unexpected wound to slay The foe he dreads — so much he may : In safety to return, and see His stately home — that may not be : E'en as 'twas breathed, the wild winds caugbt The uttered prayer, and turned to nought. So now, as hurtling through the sky Flew the fell spear, each Volscian eye On the doomed queen was bent : She hears no rushing sound, nor sees The javelin sweeping down the breeze. Till 'neath her naked breast it stood. And drinking deep the unsullied blood At length its fury spent. BOOK XL 427 Up run her comrades, one and all, And stay their mistress ere she fall. But daunted far beyond the rest. Fear mixed with triumph in his breast, False Arruns takes to flight : A second time he dares not try The lance that served him, nor defy The maid to further fight. As flies a caitiff" wolf for fear From shepherd slain or mighty steer, Or ere the avenger's darts draw near, To pathless mountain steep. And, conscious of his guilt unseen. Claps his lithe tail his legs between, And dives in forest deep ; So Arruns steals confused away. And fiyitig plunges mid the fray. In vain she strives with dying hands To wrench away the blade : Fixed in her ribs the weapon stands, Closed by the wound it made. Bloodless and faint, she gasps for breath ; Her heavy eyes sink down in death ; Her cheek's bright colors fade. Then thus expiring she addressed Her truest comrade and her best, Acca, who wont alone to share The burden of Camilla's care : " Thus far, dear Acca, have I sought To battle with my wound : But now the fight is over-fought, And all grows dark around. Go : my last charge to Turnus tell, To haste with succor, and repel The Trojans from the town — farewell." 42» THE y^ENBID. She spoke, and speaking, dropped her rein. Perforce descending to the plain. Then by degrees she slips away From all that heavy load of clay : Her languid neck, her drowsy head She droops to earth, of vigor sped : She lets her martial weapons go : The indignant soul flies down below. Loud clamors to the skies arose ; With fiercer heat the combat glows, The Volscian princess slain ; On, on they push, the Teucrian power, The Tyrrhene chiefs, their nation's flower The Arcad horseman train. Meanwhile Diana's sentinel. Fair Opis, sits on mountain fell The scene of blood to view : Soon as Camilla she espied O'erborne in battle's raging tide, From her deep bosom, as she sighed, These piteous words she drew : " Too stern requital, hapless maid. For that your error have you paid, That venturous daring, which essayed To brave the Trojan power : Your woodland life, to Dian sworn, Those heavenly arms in combat borne, Alas ! they left you all forlorn In need's extremest hour. Yet not unhonored in your end She lets you lie, your queen and friend. Nor unavenged shall you descend A name to after time : For he whose arm has stretched in deadi That sacred form, his forfeit breath Shall compensate his crime." BOOK XL 429 Neath the high hill a barrow stood, Dercennus' tomb, o'ergrown with wood (A monarch he of elder blood Who ruled Laurentum's land) : The goddess, lighting with a bound. Paused here, and from the lofty mound The guilty Arruns scanned. She saw him insolent and gay. And "Why" she cries " so far astray? This way, doomed caitiff, come this way 1 Shall vengeance vainly call ? Here, take Camilla's guerdon due : Alas the day, when such as you By Dian's arrows fall ! " Thus having said, the maid of Thrace An arrow from the golden case Draws out, and fits for flight : Then at full stretch the bow she bends, Till now she joins the horn's two ends, And touches with her left the blade Of the keen shaft transversely laid. Her bosom with the right. That instant Arruns heard the sound And in his heart the weapon found. Him gasping out his life with pain His comrades on the dusty plain Unheeded leave to die ; Triumphant Opis soars again Back to the Olympian sky. First turns to flight, its mistress slain, Camilla's light-armed horseman train : Tlie Rutules and Atinas fly ; Lorn bands and chiefs astray For safety to the city hie In rout and disarray. 43° THE .^NBID. The deathful onset of the foe None further dares sustain : Each slings behind his unstrung bow, And horse-hoof beat in quick retreat Recurrent shakes the plain. Townward there rolls a dusty cloud ; The matrons catch the sight From their high station, shriek aloud, And on their bosoms smite. Who gain the open portals first Are whelmed beneath a following burst Of foemen in their rear : No scaping from their piteous fate : E'en at the entry of the gate, 'Mid those dear homes they left so late. They feel the fatal spear. The wildered townsmen close the gates : Nor yield admittance to their mates. For all they beg and pray : E'en foemen might that carnage weep, Where these in arms the pass would keep And those would force the way. Sad fathers from the strong redoubt Look forth, and see their sons shut out : Some down the moat's steep sides amain In helpless ruin crash : Some with blind haste and loosened rein 'Gainst door and doorpost dash. Nay, even the dames on rampart high, Camilla's glories in their eye. With- might and main the artillery ply. So true their patriot flame : Make truncheons seared and knotty wood For lack of steel do service good. And 'mid the first would shed their blood. To save their walls from shame. BOOK XI. 431 Meantime to Turnus in the glade Sad Acca has her news conveyed, Confusion great and sore ; The Volscian troops are disarrayed, Camilla lives no more ; On like a torrent comes the foe : Nought stands before their wasting flow ; Their terrors townward pour. He, all on flame — so Jove requires — From ambushed slope and wood retires. Scarce out of sight he touched the plains. The unguarded pass .^neas gains. Surmounts the ridge with scant delay. And through the forest wins his way. So both make speed the walls to reach. Nor long the space 'twixt each and each . At once yEneas sees from far The rising dust of Latium's war, And Turnus knows ^neas near, As tramp and neigh assail his ear. Then had they clashed that hour in fray And tried the fortune of the day, But Phoebus in the Hiberian seas Bathes his tired steeds, and sunlight flees: So by the walls they pitch their tents. And guard their mounded battlements. BOOK XIL ARGUMENT. Turnus challenges ^neas to a single combat. Articles are agreed on, but broken by the Rutuli, who wound ^neas. He is miraculously cured by Venus, furces Turnus to a duel, and the poem concludes with the death of the latter. 435 BOOK XII. When Turnus sees disgrace and rout Have Latium's spirit tamed, Himself by every eye marked out, His plighted promise claimed, With anger unallayed he fires, And feels the courage pride inspires. E'en as in Libyan plains athirst A lion by the hunter pierced Puts forth at length his might. Rears on his neck his angry mane, The shaft that galls him snaps in twain, And roaring claims the fight ; So Turnus' wrath infuriate glows. And, once ablaze, each moment grows. Then thus Latinus he bespeaks With flushing brow and kindling cheeks " Not Turnus, trust me, bars the way : No need the Phrygians should unsay The words they spoke in face of day, Their covenant disown : I meet him now : the victims bring And seal the treaty, gracious king. My hand shall lay the Dardan low Who left his Asia to the foe — Let Latium sit and see the show, While I in arms alone 436 THE .^NEIJD. Wash out the blot that stains our pride — Or let him take the forfeit bride, Accept the conquered throne ! " He spoke : the aged majesty Of Latium makes him calm reply : " O gallant youth ! the more intense Your generous spirit's vehemence, The wiselier should Latinus' care For Fortune's every chance prepare. Yours is your father Daunus' reign ; Yours are the towns your sword has ta'en ; And I that speak have stores of gold And hand that knows not to withhold : Latium has other maids unwed And worthy of a royal bed. Thus let me speak, direct and clear, Though sharp the pang : now further hear : I might not give my daughter's hand To suitor from her native land : Gods, prophets, with imfaltering voice And plain accord forbade the choice : But kindred sympathies are strong. And weeping wives can sway to wrong : Heaven's ties I snapped ; I failed my word . I drew the inexpiable sword : Since then what dire result of ill Has followed me and follows still Your eyes bear witness : why recall What Turnus feels the first of all ? We, twice in bloody field o'erthrown. Scarce in our ramparts hold our own : Still Tiber reeks from Latium's veins. And whitening bone-heaps mound the plain* Why reel I thus, confused and blind ? What madness mars my sober mind ? If Turnus' death makes Troy my friend. E'en while he lives let war have end. BOOK XII. 437 Or what will kin and countiy say, If — ward the omen, heaven, I pray ! — I leave him now his life to lose While for my daughter's hand he sues? think of war, its change and chance, How luck may warp the surest lance I Think of your father old and grey, Forlornly biding leagues away ! " But Tumus' wrath no words can tame : What seemed to slake but feeds the flame : Soon as impatience found a tongue With fury into speech he flung : " Those anxious bodings, father mine, For me you keep, for me resign : Leave me to meet the invader's claim : Let death redeem the gage of fame. 1 too no feeble dart can throw, And flesh will bleed that feels my blow. No goddess mother will be there To tend him with a woman's care. Conceal in mist his recreant flight. And palter with a brave man's sight." But the sad queen, struck wild by fears Of battle's new award, Death swimming in her view, with tears Holds fast her daughter's lord : " Tumus, by these fond tears I pour, If still survives the love you bore To Latium's hapless queen — On you our tottering age is staid ; On you a nation's hopes are laid ; A house, dismantled and decayed. On you is fain to lean — One boon I crave, but one : forbear The arbitrament of fight to dare : 438 THE ufT^NEID. For know, whate'er the chance ensue To Turnus, threats Amata too : With you I leave this hated life, Nor see my child my captor's wife." Her mother's voice Lavinia hears, And mingles blushes with her tears ; Deep crimson glows the sudden flame. And dyes her tingling cheek with shame. So blushes ivory's Indian grain When sullied with vermilion stain : So lilies set in roseate bed Enkindle with contagious red. So flushed the maid : with wildering gaze The passion-blinded youth surveys : The fiercer for the fight he burns, And to the queen in brief returns : " O let not tears nor omen ill Attend me to the stubborn fray ! Dear mother, 'tis not Turnus' will The hour of destiny can stay. Go, Idmon, to yon Phrygian chief Bear tidings he will hear with grief: When first the morrow fires the air With glowing chariot, let him spare To lead his Teucrians on : Let Rutule arms and Teucrian rest ; His life and mine shall brook the test Lavinia's hand, our common quest, Shall in that field be won." So saying, to the stall he speeds, Bids harness his impetuous steeds, And pleased their fury sees, Which Orithyia long ago On king Pilumnus deigned bestow, To match the whiteness of the snow, The swiftness of the breeze. BOOK XII. 439 They bustle round, the menial train, Comb o'er the neck the graceful mane, And pat the sounding chest : In mail his shoulders he arrayed (Of gold and orichalc 'twas made) ; Then dons his shield, his trusty blade, His helm with ruddy crest : That blade which to his royal sire The hand of Vulcan gave, Brought red from Liparaean fire And dipped in Stygian wave. Reposing firom its work of blood His lance beside a column stood, Auruncan Actor's prize : He seized it, shook the quivering wood, And thus impetuous cries : " The hour is come, my spear, my spear, Thou who hast never failed to hear Thy master's proud appeal : Once Actor bore thee, Turnus now : Grant that my hand to earth may bow The Phrygian's all unmanly brow, From off his breast the corslet tear, And soil in dust his essenced hair. New crisped with heated steel." Such furies in his bosom rise : His features all ablaze Shoot direful sparkles : from his eyes A stream of lightning plays. So ere he tries the combat's shock A bull loud bellowing makes, And butting at a tree's hard stock His horns to anger wakes. With furious heel the sand upthrows, And challenges the winds for foes. 44° THE .MNEID. Meantime in Vulcan's arms arrayed ^neas mans his breast, Rejoiced that offered truce has made Two hosts from battle rest : Then reassures his comrades' fears And checks lulus' starting tears, Rehearsing Fate's decree. And bids his envoys answer bear To Latium's monarch, and declare The terms of peace to be. Scarce had the morn her radiance shed On topmost mountain height. When, leaving Ocean's oozy bed, The Sun's fleet steeds, with upturned head, Breathe out loose flakes of light. Beneath the city's strong redoubt Rutule and Trojan measure out The combat's listed ground. And altars in the midst prepare For common sacrifice and prayer, Piled up with grassy mound ; While others, girt with aprons, bring Live coals and water from the spring, Their brows with vervain bound. Through the thronged gates the Ausonian band Comes streaming onward, lance in hand : Trojans and Tuscans all. Equipped in arms of various show. Come marshalled by their ranks, as though They heard the battle's call. Decked out with gold and purple dye, From troop to troop the leaders fly, Mnestheus, Assaracus's seed, Asilas, chief divine, BOOK XII. 441 Messapus, tamer of the steed, Who comes of Neptune's line. The signal given, they each recede Within the space assigned, Their javelins planted in the mead. Their shields at rest reclined : While, brimming o'er with yearning strong, Weak matrons, an unwarlike throng. And fathers, old and grey. Turret and roof confusedly crowd, Or stand beside the portals proud. The combat to survey. But Juno, seated on the mount That Alban now is named ('Twas then a hill of scant account, Untitled and unfamed). On the two hosts was gazing down, The listed field, the Latian town. To Turnus' sister then she said (A goddess she of lake and flood ; Such honor Jove the damsel paid For violated maidenhood) : " Pride of all streams on earth that roll, Juturna, favorite of my soul. Thou know'st, of all of Latian race That e'er endured great Jove's embrace I still have set thee first, and given To share ungrudged the courts of heaven ; Now learn thy woes, unhappy dame. Nor think too late that mine the blame. While Latium yet could keep the field And Fate seemed kind, I cast my shield O'er Turnus and his town : Nov m ill hour he tempts the fray. And baleful force and Fate's dark day From heaven are swoopii.g down. 442 THE u^NBID. I cannot view the unequal fight, Nor see that shameful treaty plight. Can sister nought for brother dare ? Take heart : perchance the gods may spare." She said : Juturna's tears 'gan flow, And oft she smote her breast of snow. " No time for tears " Saturnia cries : " Haste — save your brother ere he dies : Or stir again the war, and break (Mine be the risk) the league they make." She ceased, and left her sore distraught. With bleeding heart and wavering thought. Now to the field the monarchs came, Latinus, his majestic frame In four-horse chariot borne ; Twelve gilded rays, memorial sign Of the great Sun, his sire divine, His kingly brows adorn : Grasping two javelins as in war Rides Turnus in his two-horse car : ^neas leaves his rampired home, First founder of the race of Rome, Glorious in heavenly armor's pride. With shield that beams like day ; And young Ascanius at his side, Rome's other hope and stay. Then to the hearth the white-robed priest Brings two-year sheep all richly fleeced And young of bristly swine ; They turn them to the radiant east. With knives the victims' foreheads score, Strew cakes of salted meal, and pour The sacrificial wine. Then thus with falchion's naked blade ^neas supplication made : BOOK XII. 443 " Sun, and thou Land, attest my prayer, For whom I have been fain to bear So many a year of woe ; And Jove, Almighty Sire, and thou, Saturnia, now at last, O now No more -^Eneas' foe ; Thou too, great Mars, who rul'st the fray By thine imperial nod, And you, ye Springs and Floods, I pray, Whate'er the powers that ether sway, And ocean's every god : If victory shall to Turnus fall. The vanquished to Evander's wall Their instant flight shall take : lulus shall the realm resign. Nor here in Latium seed of mine Fresh war hereafter wake : But if, as prayers and hopes foresee, The queen of battles smile on me, I will not force Italia's land To Teucrian rule to bow ; I seek no sceptre for my hand. No diadem for my brow : Let race and race, unquelled and free. Join hands in deathless amity. My gods, my rites, I claim to bring : Let sire Latinus still be king. In peace and war the same ; The sons of Troy my destined town Shall build, and fair Lavinia crown The city with her name." He spoke, and next Latinus prays With lifted hand and heavenward gaze : " By land, by sea, by stars I swear. E'en as ^neas swore ; By queen Latona's princely pair. And two-faced Janus hoar ; 444 THE y^NEID. By all the infernal powers divine And grisly Pluto's mystic shrine : Let Jove give ear, whose vengeful fire Makes treaties firm, the Almighty Sire i I touch the hearth with either hand, I call the gods that 'twixt us stand : No time shall make the treaty vain, Whate'er to-day's event ; No violence shall my will constrain. Though earth were scattered in the main And Styx with ether hlent : E'en as this sceptre " (as he swore A sceptre in his hand he bore) " Shall ne'er put forth or leaf or gem, Since severed from its parent stem Foliage and branch it lost ; 'Twas once a tree ; now workman's care Has given it Latium's kings to bear, With seemly bronze embossed." Thus chief and chief in open sight With solemn words the treaty plight ; Then o'er the flame they slay The -hallowed victims, strip the flesh Yet quick with life, and warm and fresh On loaded altars lay. But in the Rutules' jealous sight Unequal seems the chance of fight, 111 matched the champions twain, And fitfully their bosoms heave As near and nearer they perceive The encounter on the plain. Compassion deepening into dread. They note young Turnus' quiet tread, The downcast meekness of his eyes Turned to the hearth in suppliant guise. BOOK XII. 445 Cheeks whence the bloom of health is gone, And that young frame so ghastly wan. Juturna saw their whispers grow, And marked them wavering to and fro : Then, like to Gamers' form and face — A warrior he of noblest race, Long by his fathers' exploits known And long by valor of his own — She joins their ranks, each heart to read. And sows in all dissension's seed : " Shame, shame, ye Rutules, thus to try The coward hazard of the die ! A myriad warrior lives to shun The deadly risk reserved for one ! Compute the numbers and the powers : Say whose the vantage, theirs or ours ? Behold them all, in arms allied, Troy and Arcadia, side by side. And all Etruria, leagued in hate Of him, our chief, the men of fate ! Take half our force, we scarce should know Each for himself to find a foe. Ay, Turnus' name to heaven shall rise. Devoted to whose shrines he dies, On lips of thousands borne : We, as in listless ease we sit. To foreign tyrants shall submit. And our lost country mourn." By whisper thus and chance-dropped word Their hearts to further rage are stirred : From band to band the murmur runs : Changed are Laurentum's fickle sons, Changed is the Latian throng : Who late were hoping war to cease, Now yearn for arms, abhor the peace, And pity Turnus* wrong. 446 THE ySNBID. Now, heaping fuel on the flame, With new resource the crafty dame Displays in heaven a sign : No evidence more strongly wrought On Italy's deluded thought. As 'twere indeed divine. Jove's royal bird in pride of place Was putting river-fowl in chase And all the feathery crew, When swooping from the ruddy sky Off from the flood he bears on high A swan of dazzling hue. The Italians gaze, when lo ! the rout Turn from their flight and face about, Tn blackening mass obscure the skies. And clustering close with shrill sharp cries Their mighty foe pursue. Till he, by force and weight o'erbome, Dropped river-ward his prey untorn And off to distance flew. With loud acclaim the Rutule bands Salute the portent of the skies : Aloft they raise their eager hands, And first the seer Tolumnius cries : "For this, for this my prayers have striven : I hail, I seize the omen given ; Draw, draw with me the sword. Poor Rutules, whom the pirate base Puts like unwarlike birds in chase, And spoils your river-board. Yes, he will fly, if you pursue. And vanish in the distant blue. Close firm your ranks, and bring relief And rescue to your ravished chief, All, all with one accord." He said, and hurled, as forth he ran^ His jiivelin at the foeman's van. BOOK XII. 447 The hurtling cornel cuts the skies : Loud clamors follow as it flies : The assembly starts in wild alarm, And hearts beat high with tumult warm. There as nine brothers of one blood, Gylippus' Arcad offspring, stood. One, with bright arms and beauty graced, Receives the javelin in his waist. Where chafes the belt against the groin And 'neath the ribs the buckles join ; Pierced through and through he falls amain, And lies extended on the plain. His gallant brethren feel the smart ; With falchion drawn or brandished dart They charge, struck blind with rage. Laurentum's host the shock withstand : Like deluge bursting o'er the land The Trojan force, the Agyllan band, The Arcad troop engage. Each burns alike with frantic zeal To end the quarrel by the steel ; Stripped are the hearths ; o'er all the sky Dense iron showers in volleys .fly : With eager haste they run To snatch the bowls and altar-sods : Latinus takes his outraged gods And leaves the league undone. Those yoke again the battle car, These vault into the selle, And wave their falchions, drawn for war. To challenge or repel. Messapus singles from the rest The king Aulestes, richly dressed In robe and regal crown ; Spurning the truce, his horse he pressed, And fiercely rides him down. 448 THE .^NEID. He with a backward spring retires, And headlong falls 'mid altar fires That meet him in the rear : Up spurs Messapus, hot with speed, And as the pale lips vainly plead Drives through him, towering on his steed, His massy beamJike spear. " He has his death " the victor cries : " Heaven gains a worthier sacrifice." Around the corpse the Italians swarm, And strip the limbs, yet reeking warm. From blazing altar close at hand Bold Coiynseus seized a brand : As Ebysus a death-wound aims, Full in his face he dashed the flames. The bushy beard that instant flares And wafts a scent of burning hairs. The conqueror rushes on his prize. Wreathes in his hair his hand. To his broad breast his knee applies, And pins him to the sand : Then, grovelling as he lay in dust, Deep in his side his sword he thrust. Stout Alsus, born of shepherd race, Death in the forefront braves. When Podalirius gives him chase And high his falchion waves : A ponderous axe the swain upheaves : From brow to chin the head he cleaves, While blood the arms o'erflows : A heavy slumber, iron-bound, Seals the dull eyes in rest profound : In endless night they close. But good ^neas chides his band, His head all bare, unarmed his hand, BOOK XII. 449 And "Whither now so fast?" he cries: " What demon bids contention rise? O soothe your rage, I pray ! The terms are fixed, the treaty plight : Mine, mine alone the combat's right : Be calm, and give me way. My hand shall make the assurance true : Henceforward Turnus is my due." Thus while to lay the storm he strives, Full on the chief an arrow drives : Sped by what arm, what wind it came, If Heaven or fortune ruled its aim. None knew : the deed was lost to fame ; Nor then nor after was there found Who boasted of yEneas' wound. When Turnus saw ^neas part Retiring from his band And Tro^s brave chiefs dismayed, his heart With sudden hope he manned : He calls his armor and his car. Leaps to his seat in pride of war. And takes the reins in hand. Full many a gallant chief he slays, Or pierced on earth in torture lays, Drives down whole ranks in fierce career. And plies the fliers with spear on spear. As, where cold Hebrus parts the field. Grim Mars makes thunder on his shield And stings his steeds to fight ; They scud, the Zephyrs not so fleet : Thrace groans beneath the hoofs quick beat ; His dire attendants round him fly. Anger and blackest Treachery, And gloomy-browed Affright : 29 45° THE .^NBID. So where the battle sorest bleeds Keen Turnus drives his smoking steeds Insulting o'er the slain, While gore and sand the horsehoof kneads, And spirts the crimson rain. Tharhyris and Sthenelus lie dead, Encountered hand to hand ; Pholus by spear from distance sped, And Glaucus too and Lades bled, Whom Imbrasus their father bred In native Lycian land And trained alike to fight or speed Like lightning with the harnessed steed. Now through the field Eumedes came. Old Dolon's son, of Trojan fame. His grandsire's counterpart in name, In courage like his sire, Who erst, the Danaan camp to spy, Pelides' car, a guerdon high. From Hector dared require : But Tydeus' son with other meed Requited that audacious deed. And cured his proud desire. Him from afar w^hen Turnus views With missile dart he first pursues, Then quits the chariot with a bound. Stands o'er him grovelling on the ground. Plants on his neck his foot, and tears From his weak grasp the lance he bears. Deep in his throat the bright point dyes, Afid o'er the corpse in triumph cries : " Lie there, and measure out the plain. The Hesperian soil you sought to gain : Such meed they win who wish me killed ; 'Tis thus their city-walls they build." BOOK XII. 45 1 Again he hurls his spear, and sends Asbytes to rejoin his friends : And Chloreus, Dares, Sybaris, The ground in quick succession kiss ; Thersilochus, ThymcEtes too, Whose restiff steed his rider threw. As when the northwind's tyrant stress Makes loud the ^gaean roar, Still following on the waves that press Tumultuous to the shore, Where drives the gale, the cloud-rack flies In wild confusion o'er the skies : So wheresoe'er through all the field Comes Turnus on, whole squadrons yield, Turn, and resist no more : The impulse bears him as he goes, And 'gainst the wind his plumage flows. With shame and anger Phegeus saw The chief's insulting pride : He meets the car, and strives to draw The steeds' proud necks aside. There, dragged as to the yoke he clings, The spear his side has found. Bursts through the corslef s plaited rings, And prints a surface wound : Shifting his shield, he threats the foe. His sword plucks out, and aims a blow : When the fierce wheels with onward bound Dislodge and dash him to the ground : And Turnus' weaponed hand, Stretched from the car, the head has reft Where helm and breastplate meet, and lefl: The trunk upon the sand. While Turnus neaps the plain with dead, /Eneas, with Achates tried 452 THE .^NEID. And Mnestheus moving at his side, And young Ascanius near, All bleeding to the camp is led, Faltering and propping up his tread With guidance of a spear. He frets and strives with vain essay To pluck the broken reed away, Demands the surest, readiest aid. To ope the wound with broad-sword blade, Unflesh the barb so deep concealed. And send him back to battle-field. And now lapis had appeared, Blest leech, to Phosbus' self endeared Beyond all men below, On whom the fond indulgent god His augury had fain bestowed, His lyre, his sounding bow : But he, the further to prolong A sickly parent's span. The humbler art of medicine chose, The knowledge of each herb that grows. Plying a craft unknown to song. An unambitious man. Chafing with anguish, rage, and grief, Impatient halts the wounded chief. Propped on his mighty spear : lulus weeping and a band Of gallant youths around him stand : He heeds not groan or tear. The aged leech, his garment wound In Paeon sort his shoulder round. In vain his sovereign simples plies, His science skilled to heal. In vain with hand and pincer tries To loose the stubborn steel. BOOK XII. 4'?3 No happy chance on art attends, No patron god the leech befriends : And wilder grows the fierce alarm, And neai'er yet the deadly harm : The thick dust props the skies : The tramp of cavalry they hear, And 'mid the encampment dart and spear Rain down before their eyes : And dismal rings the mingled cry Of those that fight and those that die. Then Venus, all a mother's heart Touched by her son's unworthy smart. Plucks dittany, a simple rare. From Ida's summit brown. With flower of purple, bright and fair. And leaf of softest down : Well known that plant to mountain goat, Should arrow pierce its shaggy coat. There as they toil, she brings the cure. Her bright face wrapped in cloudy hoo* And drops it where in shining ewer The crystal water stood. With juices of ambrosia blent And panace of fragrant scent. So with the medicated flood The sage unknowing stanched the blood • When all at once the anguish fled. And the torn flesh no longer bled. Now at a touch, no violence used, Drops out the barbed dart. And strength by heavenly aid infused Revives the fainting heart. " Arms for the valiant chief! " exclaims lapis " why so slow? " The gentle leech the first inflames The warrior 'gainst the foe 454- THE .^NEID " Not human help, nor sovereign art, Nor old lapis healed that smart : 'Tis Heaven that interferes, to save For greater deeds the strength it gave." The chief, impatient of delays, His legs in pliant gold arrays. And to and fro his javelin sways. And now, his corslet round his breast, In his mailed arms his child he pressed, Kissed through his helm, and thus addressed : " Learn of your father to be g^eat. Of others to be fortunate. This hand awhile shall be your shield And lead you safe from field to field : When grown yourself to manhood's prime, Remember those of former time, Recall each venerable name, And catch heroic fire From Hector's and ^Eneas' fame, Your uncle and your sire." So speaking, from the camp he passed, A godlike chief, of stature vast, Shaking his ashen beam : Mnestheus and Antheus and their train With kindred speed o'er all the plain From trench and rampart stream. Thick blinding dust the champaign fills, And earth with trampling throbs and thrills. Pale Turnus saw them from the height ; The Ausonians saw, and chilly fright Through all their senses ran : Foremost of all the Latian crew Juturna heard the sound and knew. And left the battle's van. Onward he flies, and whirls along Through the wide plain his blackening throng. BOOK XIL 455 As, burst from heaven, with headlong sweep A storm comes landward from the deep : Through rustic hearts faint terrors creep As coming ill they taste : Ah yes ! 'twill lay the standing corn, Will scatter trees from earth uptorn, And make the land a waste : The winds, its couriers, fly before. And waft its muttering to the shore : So the dread Trojan sweeps along Down on the hostile swarm ; In close battalions, firm and strong. His followers round him form. Osiris feels Thymbrseus' blow. At Mnestheus' feet Anchetius lies, Achates slaughters Epulo, By Gyas Ufens dies : E'en proud Tolumnius falls, the seer Who 'gainst the foe first hurled his spear. Upsoars to heaven a mingled shoat : In turn the Rutules yield, And huddled thick in dusty rout Fly wildly o'er the field. But he, he stoops him not to smite The craven backs that turn to flight. Nor chases those who stand and fight, Intent on other aims : Turnus alone he cares to track Through dust and darkness, blinding black, Turnus alone he claims. Juturna, agonized with fear, Metiscus, Turnus' charioteer, Flings from his seat on high. And leaves him fallen at distance far : Herself succeeds him, guides the car, And bids the coursers fly ; 456 THE y^NBID. In voice, in form, in dress complete, The hapless driver's counterfeit. As swallow through some mansion flies With courts and stately galleries. Flaps noisy wing, gives clamorous tongue, Still catering for her callow young, Makes cloisters echo to the sound, And tank and cistern circles round. So whirls the dame her glowing car, So flashes through the maze of war ; Now here, now there, in conquering pride Her brother she displays, Yet lets him not the encounter bide. But winds through devious ways. Nor less ^neas shifts and wheels. Pursues and tracks him out. And clamoring to his faith appeals Across the weltering rout : Oft as he marks the foe, and tries To match the chariot as it flies. So ofl: her scourge Juturna plies. And turns her steeds about. What should he do ? he undulates With aimless ebb and flow : His bosom's passionate debates Distract him to and fro. Messapus then, who chanced to wield Two quivering javelins, barbed and steeled^ Takes one, and levels with his eye. And bids it at .^neas fly. The Trojan halts, and making pause, His arms around him closer draws. On bended knee firm stayed : The javelin struck the helmet's cone. And razed the plume that, tossed and blown, High on its summit played. BOOK XII. 457 Then surges fury high, to know The baseness of the treacherous foe, As horse and car he sees afar Careering o'er the plain : To the just gods appeal he makes Who watch the league that Turnus breaks : Then charges resolute to kill. Lets reckless slaughter rage her fill. And gives his wrath the rein. that some god would prompt my strain And all those horrors tell, What gallant chiefs throughout the plain By Turnus now, pursued and slain. Now by ^neas fell ! Was it thy will, almighty Jove, To such extreme of conflict drove Two nations, doomed in peace and love Through after years to dwell ? First of the Rutules Sucro tried To stem the foe's advancing tide ; But vain that brief delay ; ^neas caught him on the side. And, opening ribs and bosom wide With the fell sword his fury plied. Brought death the swiftest way. By Turnus' hand Diores bleeds ; His brother Amycus succeeds ; One from his steed by spear brought low. One, hand to hand, by falchion's blow : Their severed heads the victor bore Fixed to his car, distilling gore. That sends down Talos to the grave With Tanais and Cethegus brave, Three chiefs at once struck dead, 458 THE yENEID. And sad Onites, him who came From Peridia, noble dame, Born in Echion's bed. This lays in death the brethren twain From Lycia, Phoebus' own domain, And young Menoetes, who in vain Had shunned the battle's roar : An Arcad he by Lerna's side His fisher craft obscurely plied, Contented to be poor : In honest penury his sire Tilled scanty ground let out to hire, Nor knocked at rich man's door. As fires that launched on different ways Stream through a wood of crackling bays, Or torrents that from mountain steep Tumbling and thundering toward the deep Plough each his ow^n wild path ; .^neas thus and Turnus fly Through the wide field ; now, now 'tis nigh, The boiling-point of wrath ; Their fierce hearts burst with rage ; they throw A giant's force on every blow. Murranus that, whose boastful tongue With high-born sires and grandsires rung, And pedigrees of long renown Through Latian monarchs handed down. Smites with a stone of mountain size And tumbles on the sward : By reins and harness caught, the wheels Still drag him on : the horses' heels Beat down and crush him as he lies. Unmindful of their lord. While this, as Hyllus overbold In furious onset springs. BOOK KIT. 459 Through the bright helm the weapon passed, And rooted in the brain stood fast. Nor could thy prowess, Cretheus brave, 'Gainst Turnus' coming stand, Nor those his gods Cupencus save From out yEneas' hand : His bosom met the impetuous blade, Nor long the shield its fury stayed. Thou too, gi-eat yEolus, the plains Of Latium saw thee dead ; They saw thy giant-like remains Wide o'er their surface spread : Fallen, fallen art thou, whom not the bands Of Argos could destroy, Nor those unconquerable hands Which wrought the doom of Troy : 'Twas here thy sepulchre was made, Thy palace high 'neath Ida's shade : Lyrnesus reared thy palace high, Laurentum gave thee room to die. So, turning, rallying, front to front. Face the two hosts the battle's brunt : The Latian and the Dardan throng, Brave Mnestheus and Serestus strong, Messapus, tamer of the horse, Asilas with his Tuscan force, Evander's Arcad train, Each for himself, make desperate fight — No stint, no stay — and all their might With fierce contention strain. Now Venus prompts her darling chief To lead his forces to the town. And with a sudden stroke and brief On the scared foe come down. 460 THE .^NBID. As tracking Turnus' truant car He sweeps his vision round and round The town he sees in peace profound, Unscathed by all that war. At once upon his inward sight The image dawns of grander fight : Sergestus and Serestus tried He calls with Mnestheus to his side, And on a mound takes stand : Round in dense ranks the Trojans swarm. The shield still cleaving to their arm, The javelin in their hand. Then from the height he thus began : " Now hearken and obey, each man : Our cause is Jove's own cause : Nor, sudden though the change of plan, Let any plead for pause. This town, the source of all the fray, The centre of Latinus' sway. Unless they bow them to the yoke And own my conquering power, In ruin on the ground shall smoke From base to topmost tower. What, I forsooth to stand and wait Till Turnus deign to end debate. And, humbled by his old defeat, Prepare once more my call to meet? Here, here it stands, the foul spring-head Of all this blood so basely shed : Quick with your torches, and demand Our rightful treaty, fire in hand." He said : with emulous speed they form, And rush in mass the walls to storm. Forth come the ladders, quick as thought; Fire, faggot, pitch at once are brought ; BOOK XIL 461 Some to the gates impetuous crowd, And guard and sentry slay ; Some hurl their javelins, and o'ercloud With darts the face of day. ^neas, foremost of the band, Lifts up to heaven the appealing hand. Beneath the rampart's shade, Upbraids Latinus loud and long. And bids the gods attest his wrong, Forced on another war, though loth. The Italians twice his foes, their troth A second time betrayed. Among the citizens within Rises a wild discordant din : Some to the foe would ope the town, The portals backward fling, And to the city-walls bring down The venerable king ; Some, all on fire, for weapons call, And hasten to defend the wall. As when some venturous swain has tracked The bees, in hollow rock close packed, With fumes of pungent smoke. They through their waxen quarters course, And murmuring passionate and hoarse Their patriot rage provoke : The dusk scent issues from the doors ; A buzzing dull and blind Thrills the deep cave : the smoke upsoars, And mingles with the wind. Thus as they toil, a further woe The Latian realm o'ertook : Each faint heart reeled beneath the blow, And the whole city shook. 462 THE .^NEID. When from the towers the queen looked down And saw the foe draw nigh, The scaling-ladders climb the town, The fire-brands roofward fly, At once she deemed her favorite slain : Keen anguish smites her wildered brain : With many a curse her head she heaps, Sole cause of all that Latium weeps. And wailing oft and raving tears The gay purpureal robe she wears : Then fastens from a beam on high A noose, in ghastly wise to die. When Latium's maids and matrons hear That news of wonderment and fear, Lavinia first her bright hair rends And wounds her rose-red cheeks : Around her rave her mourning friends ; The courts repeat their shrieks. From house to house wide spreads the tale : The scant remains of valor fail. Bowed to the earth with woe on woe. His consort dead, his town brought low. The hapless king his raiment tears And soils with dust his silver hairs. While oft himself he blames, Who gave not to his crown an heir, A bridegroom to his daughter fair, Nor owned yEneas' claims. Turnus meanwhile in fields afar Drives straggling foes before his car, Slower and more slow his coursers' stride, And less and less their master's pride. Lo ! on the gale from distance sped Come sounds of strange bewildering dread ; BOOK XII. 463 The gathering hum, confused and drear, Of the lost city strikes his ear. "Alas! what sounds are these that rise, The voice of grief and pain ? What tumult shakes the town?" he cries. And wildly draws his rein. His dauntless sister, as she plies The chariot in Metiscus' guise, Turned round and thus began : " Nay, Turnus, urge we still our steeds 'Gainst the spent foe, where victory leads : Latium has sons to serve her needs. Her leaguered towers to man. ^neas on the Italians falls. And follows vengeance as she calls : Such too be Turnus' aim ; Send death among his Teucrian train ; Not less your muster-roll of slain, Nor less your share of fame." " Sister, I knew you " Turnus spoke " When first by craft the truce you broke, And plunged in battle's tide, And now in vain you cheat mine eye : But say, who sent you from the sky This cruel woe to bide ? From heaven you came — for what? to see Your brother's dying agony? What can I else ? what hope of life Holds Fortune forth, in such a strife ? But now Murranus I beheld. The mighty by the mighty quelled ; He fell, invoking as he fell The recreant friend he loved too well. See Ufens prostrate on his face Averts his eyes from my disgrace, 464 THE yENEin. While Troy rejoices in her prey, His armor and his breathless clay ! And must I drain the dregs of shame And leave the town to sink in flame, Nor, prompt to combat and to die, Make Drances yet retract his lie ? What, own defeat? let Latian eyes See Turnus, Turnus as he flies? Is death indeed so sore? hear me, Manes, of your grace. Since heavenly powers have hid their face 1 Pure and unsoiled by caitiff" blame, 1 join your company, nor shame My mighty sires of yore." Scarce had he said, with headlong speed Comes Saces up on foaming steed : His bleeding face a shaft had gored, And Turnus thus his voice implored : " Turnus, save you no hope is ours : O think of your own race ! Like thundercloud ^neas lowers, Threatening to raze and sack our towers, And firebrands mount apace. On you is turned each Latian eye ; Latinus doubts to whom His tottering fortune to ally, Whom choose his daughter's groom. The queen, your firmest friend, is dead, By her own hand to darkness sped : Messapus at the gates alone And brave Atinas hold their own ; Around them throngs the hostile band ; Steel harvests bristle all the land : You unconcerned your chariot ply Through fields the battle's tide leaves dry." BOOK XII. 465 O'erwhelmed by surging thoughts of ill Turnus in mute amaze stood still : Fierce boils in every vein Indignant shame and passion blind, The tempest of the lover's mind, The soldier's high disdain. Soon as apart the shadows roll, And light once more illumes his soul, Backward his kindling eyes he threw And grasped the town in one wide view. Lo ! tongues of flame to heaven aspire : The turret's floors are wrapped in fire, The tower he made to vex the foe With bridge above and wheels below. " The Fates, the Fates must have their way : sister ! cease to breed delay : Where Heaven and cruel Fortune call There let me follow to my fall. 1 stand to meet my foe, to bear The pangs of death, how keen soe'er : Disgraced you shall not see me more : Let frenzy fill the space before." He said, and vaulting from his car Plunged headlong through the opposing war, His sister in her sorrow left. And fierce and fast the squadrons cleft. Look how from mountain summit borne By wind or furious rain down-torn Or gentler lapse of ages worn Comes down a thundering stone , Headlong it falls with impulse strong, The unpitying rock, and whirls along Woods, cattle, swains o'erthrown : So bounding onward, scattering all, Comes Turnus to the city-wall, 30 466 THE -MNBID. Where pools of bloodshed soak the ground And the shrill gales with javelins sound ; Then signals with his upraised hand And lifts the voice of high command : " Rutules, forbear ! your darts lay by, Ye Latian ranks ! not you, but I Must meet whate'er betide : Far better this my arm alone For broken treaty should atone, And battle's chance decide." The armies right and left give place, And yield him clear and open space. But great ^neas, when he hears The challenge of his foe. The leagfuer of the town forbears, Lets tower and rampart go. Steps high with exultation proud, And thunders on his arms aloud ; Vast as majestic Athos, vast As Eryx the divine, Or he that roaring with the blast Heaves his hugh bulk in snowdrifts massed* The father Apennine. Italian, Trojan, Rutule, all One way direct the eye, — Who man the summit of the wall. Who storm the base to work its fall. And lay their bucklers by. Latinus marvels at the sight, Two mighty chiefs, who first saw light In realms apart, met here in fight The steel's award to try. Soon as the space between is clear, Each, rushing forward, burls his spear. BOOK XII. 467 And bucklers clashed with brazen din The overture of fight begin. Earth groans : fierce strokes their falchions deal : Chance joins with force to guide the steel. As when two bulls engage in fight On Sila's or Taburnus' height And horns with horns are crossed : Long since the trembling hinds have fled ; The whole herd stands in silent dread ; The heifers ponder in dismay, Who now the country-side will sway, The monarch of the host : Giving and taking wounds alike With furious impact home they strike ; Shoulder and neck are bathed in gore : The forest depths return the roar. So, shield on shield, together dash ^neas and his Daunian foe ; The echo of that deafening crash Mounts heavenward from below. Great Jove with steadfast hand on high His balance poises in the sky. Lays in its scale each rival's fate. And nicely ponders weight with weight, To see whom war to doom consigns. And which the side that death inclines. Fearless of danger, with a bound Young Turnus rises from the ground. And, following on the sword he sways, Comes down with deadly aim : Latium and Troy intently gaze. And swell the loud acclaim. 4^8 THE .^NBID. When lo ! the faithless weapon breaks, And mid the stroke its lord forsakes : Flight, flight alone can aid : Swifter than wings of wind he flees, Soon as an unknown hilt he sees Disfurnished of its blade. 'Tis said when with impatience blind He first the battle sought. Leaving his father's sword behind Metiscus' steel he caught ; While routed Troy before him fled, That sword fiill well his need bested : Soon as 'twas tried on arms divine, It snapped like ice in twain. The mortal blade : the fragments shine, Strewed on the yellow plain. So Turnus traverses the ground, Doubling and circling round and round In purposeless career, For all about him stand his foes. And here high walls the scene enclose, And there a spacious mere. Nor less, though whiles his stiffening knees, Slacked by his wound, their work refuse, ^neas follows as he flees And step with step the foe pursues. As tracks a hound with noise and din A deer by river deep hemmed in Or plume of crimson grain : The straight steep bank, the threatening snare The hunted beast from progress scare : She winds and winds again : The Umbrian keen forbids escape. Hangs on her flank with jaws agape. BOOK XII. 469 Snaps his vain teeth that close on nought, He catching still, she still uncaught. Turnus flies on, and as he flies To every Rutule loudly cries. Calls each by name, invokes their aid. And clamors for his well-known blade. ^neas in imperious tone Denounces death should help be shown, Threats the doomed town with sword and flame. And, wounded, follows on the same. Five times they circle round the place. Five times the winding course retrace : No trivial game is here : the strife Is waged for Turnus' own dear life. A wilding olive on the sward. Sacred to Faunus, late had stood : The seaman's dutiful regard Preserved that venerable wood : There hung they, rescued from the wave, The weeds they doffed, the gifts they gave. When for the fight the ground was traced, The Trojans felled it in their haste. Reckless of sacred or profane, That nought might break the level plain. Here lodged Eneas' javelin : here It lighted, borne in fierce career. And in the stump stood fast : He strives the weapon to unroot, And whom he cannot catch on foot O'ertake by lance's cast. Then out cries Turnus, wild with fear ; " Great Faunus, of thy pity hear ! Sweet Earth, hold fast the steel, 470 THE ^NBID. If Turnus still has held divine Those sanctities which Troy's rude line Treads down 'neath battle's heel ! " So prayed he : nor his prayers were vain : Long o'er the stump ^neas hangs, And tugs with many a fruitless strain To make the hard wood loose its fangs : When lo ! impatient as he strives, Changed to Metiscus' shape once more Forth runs the Daunian fair, and gives Her brother back the sword he wore. Then Venus, filled with ire to see A Nymph assume so bold a part, Approached, and from the stubborn tree Tore out the long imprisoned dart. Again the haughty chiefs advance. Their strength repaired, their arms restored, That towering with uplifted lance, This waving high his faithful sword, And front to front resume the game That drains the breath and racks the frame. Meanwhile Olympus' master, Jove, Addressed his queenly bride, As from a yellow cloud above The warring chiefs she eyed : " What now the end, fair consort, say? What latest stake remains to play ? Long since you knew, and owned you knew, ^neas to the skies is due, A nation's hero : Fate's own power Uplifts him to the starry tower. What plan you now ? what hopes o'erbold Thus keep you throned aloft in cold ? BOOK XII. 471 Think you 'twas right a god decreed By mortal treachery should bleed, Or Turnus — for apart from you What mischief could Juturna do ? — Receive his long lost sword again, And strength be waked in vanquished men? 'Tis Jove entreats : at length give way ; Permit my prayers your will to sway ; Nor brood in silent grief, nor vent From those sweet lips your ill-content. The end is reached. By land and main I let you vex the Dardan train, Stir guilty war, a home o'ercloud, And bridal joys with mourning shroud. Attempt no further." Jove's fair queen Bespoke her spouse with duteous mien : " Your known good pleasure is the cause, Dread lord, that Juno now withdraws From Turnus and the fight ; You would not see me else in air Content to sit resigned and bear : No ; armed with torches should I stand In battle, and with red right hand My Trojan foemen smite. - I roused, I own, Juturna's zeal To venture for her brother's weal : Yet bade I not to launch the steel Or bend the deadly bow : By Styx' dire spring I take my oath, The sole dread form of solemn troth Olympus' tenants know. And now in truth behold me yield And quit for aye the accursed field. 472 THE yS^NEID. Vouchsafe me yet one act of grace For Latium's sake, your sire's own race : No ordinance of fate withstands The boon a nation's pride demands. When treaty, ay, and love's blest rite The warring hosts in peace unite, Respect the ancient stock, nor make The Latian tribes their style forsake. Nor Troy's nor Teucer's surname take. Nor garb nor language let them change For foreign speech and vesture strange, But still abide the same : Let Latium prosper as she will, Their thrones let Alban monarchs fill ; Let Rome be glorious on the earth. The centre of Italian worth ; But fallen Troy be fallen still, The nation and the name." With mirthful laughter in his eye The world's Creator made reply : " There Jove's own sister spoke indeed. Our father Saturn's other seed. So vast the wavgs of wrath that roll In that indomitable soul ! But come, let baffled rage give way : I grant your prayer and yield the day. Ausonia shall abide the same. Unchanged in customs, speech, and name The sons of Troy, unseen though felt, In fusion with the mass shall melt : Myself will give them rites, and all Still by the name of Latins call. The blended race that thence shall rise Of mixed Ausonian blood BOOK XII. 473 Shall soar alike o'er earth and skies, So pious, just, and good : Nor evermore shall nation pay- Such homage to your shrine as they." Saturnia hears with altered mind, Triumphant now and proud : The sky meantime she leaves behind. And quits her chilly cloud. This done, the Father in his heart New counsels ponders o'er. To force Juturna to depart Nor help her brother more. Two fiends there are of evil fame, The Dirje their ill-omened name. Whom at a birth unkindly Night With dark Megsera brought to light, With serpent-spires their tresses twined, And gave them wings to cleave the wind. On Jove's high threshold they appear Before his throne, and lash to fear Mankind's unhappy brood, When grisly death the Sire prepares And sickness, or with battle scares A guilty multitude. Such pest as this the Thunderer sent Down from the Olympian sky. And bade it, for an omen meant. Across Juturna fly. Down swoops the portent, fierce and fast. With swiftness of a whirling blast : Not swifter bounds from off the string The dart that with envenomed sting The Parthian launches on the wing, The Parthian or the Crete ; 474 THE .^NBIJD. Death-laden past the cure of art Flies through the shade the hurtlmg dart, So secret and so fleet. E'en thus the deadly child of Night Shot from the sky with earthward flight. Soon as the armies and the town Descending she descries, She dwarfs her huge proportions down To bird of puny size, Which perched on tombs or desert towers Hoots long and lone through darkling hours s In such disguise, the monster wheeled Round Turnus' head, and 'gainst his shield Unceasing flapped her wings : Strange chilly dread his limbs unstrung : Upstands his hair : his voiceless tongue To his parched palate clings. But when from far Juturna heard The whirring flight of that foul bird, She rent her hair as sister mote, Her cheeks she tore, her breast she smote " Ah Turnus ! what can sister now? How other prove than cruel ? how Prolong your forfeit life ? Can goddess meet with fearless brow A pest like this ? At length I bow And part me from the strife. Nay, spare to aggravate my fear, Ye birds of evil wing ! I know the sounds that stun mine ear : That death-note speaks the bests severe Of heaven's imperious king. No meeter guerdon can he find For maiden purity resigned ? Why gave he life to last for aye ? Why took the laws of death away? BOOK XII. 475 Else, might I end at once my woe, And with my brother pass below. Immortal ! can the thought be true ? O brother ! have I joy save you ? O would the earth but yawn so wide A goddess in its depth to hide, And send her to the dead I '" Thus groaning, in her robes of blue Her head she wrapped, and plunged from view Down to the river's bed. ^neas presses on his foe. Poising his tree-like dart, And utters ere he deals the blow The sternness of his heart : " What now is Turnus' next retreat? What new escape is planned ? No contest this of feet with feet. But deadly hand with hand. Take all disguises man can wear : Call to your succor whatsoe'er Or art or courage may : Find wings to climb the Olympian steep, Or plunge in subterranean deep. Hid from the torch of day." He shook his head : " Your swelling phrase Appals not Turnus : no : The gods, the gods this terror raise, And Jupiter my foe." He said no more, but, looking round, A mighty stone espied, A mighty stone, time-worn and grey. Which haply on the champaign lay. Set there erewhile the land to bound And strifes of law decide : 47^ THE .^NEID. Scarce twelve strong men of later mould That weight could on their necks uphold To-day's degenerate sons : He caught it up, and at his foe Discharged it, rising to the throw And straining as he runs. But wildering fears his mind unman ; Running, he knew not that he ran, Nor throwing that he threw : Heavily move his sinking knees ; The streams of life wax dull and freeze : The stone, as through the void it past. Reached not the measure of its cast, Nor held its purpose true. E'en as in dreams, when on the eyes The drowsy weight of slumber lies, In vain to ply our limbs we think, And in the helpless effort sink ; Tongue, sinews, all, their powers belie And voice and speech our call defy : So, labor Turnus as he will, The Fury mocks the endeavor still. Dim shapes before his senses reel : On host and town he turns his sight : He quails, he trembles at the steel. Nor knows to fly, nor knows to fight Nor to his pleading eyes appear The car, the sister charioteer. The deadly dart ^neas shakes : His aim with stern precision takes, Then hurls with all his frame : Less loud from battering engine cast Roars the fierce stone ; less loud the blast Follows the lightning's flame. On rushes as with whirlwind wings The spear that dire destruction brings, BOOK XII. 477 Makes passage through the corslet's margCj And enters the seven-plated targe Where the last ring runs round. The keen point pierces through the thigh ; Down on his bent knee heavily Comes Turnus to the ground. With pitying groans the Rutules rise ; The mountain to their grief replies : The lofty woods resound. Now fallen an upward look he sends, And pleadingly his hand extends ; " Yes, I have earned " he cries " the fate No weakling prayers may deprecate : Let those enjoy that win. If thought of hapless sire can touch Your heart — Anchises once was such — Show grace to Daunus, old and grey, And me, or if you will, my clay, Send back to home and kin. Yours is the victory : Latian bands Have seen me stretch imploring hands : The bride Lavinia is your own : Thus far let foeman's hate be shown." Rolling his eyes, .^neas stood. And checked his sword, athirst for blood. Now faltering more and more he felt The human heart within him melt. When round the shoulder wreathed in pride The belt of Pallas he espied. And sudden flashed upon his view Those golden studs so well he knew, Which Turnus from the stripling tore When breathless on the field he lay, And on his breast in triumph wore, Memorial of the hloodv Hav. 478 THE yENEin. Soon as his eyes had gazed their fill On that sad nionument of ill, Live fury kindling eveiy vein, He cries with terrible disdain : '' What ! in my friend's dear spoils arrayed To me for mercy sue ? 'Tis Pallas, Pallas guides the blade : From you* eui'sed blood his injured shade Thus takes the atonement due." Thus as he spoke, his sword he drave With fierce and fiery blow Through the broad breast before him sprea^ The stalwart limbs grow cold and dead : One groan the indignant spirit gave, Then sought the shades below. NOTES. Page g. " The Jailor-monarch of the wind." "There let him reign, the jailor of the wind." Dryden, Page 14. " To bright possession in the siy." A hint has here been taken from Symmons's version of the preceding speech, where " cseli quibus annuls arcem " is rend- ered (I quote from memory) "To whom thy nod has given A bright reversion in the courts of heaven.'' Page 33. "But I, I cannot brook viith ease Junonian hospitalities." "Junonian hospitalities prepare Such apt occasion that I dread a snare." Wordsworth (in Philological Museum). Page 103. " With outstretched hands he gropes." "And with his outstretched arms around him groped." Addison. Page 139. " See here, yourself an i me foredone.'' " O sister, sister, thou hast all foredone." C. R. Kennedy. Page 150. ^^ Hug close the shore, nor fear its crush." Here and in other parts of the paragraph " shore " is used, like " littus " in the original, not for the coast, but for the sidf of the rock which formed the goal. [479] 48g notes. Page 152. ^^ Beneath them vanishes the ground" This is another Virgihan license, the ground ("solum") being put for the water under the ship. Page 154. " In-woven there the princely boy." Ganymede. ' Page 168. " And gaze delighted, as they trace A parents mien in each fair face." " The shouting crowds admire their charms, and trace Their parents' lines in every lovely face." Pitt. Not long before, Pitt has a line "Around their brows a vivid wreath they wore.'' So it appears in all the editions that I have consulted; but I can scarcely doubt that " vivid " should be " virid," though the latter word is more after the manner of Spenser or Milton than of eighteenth century poetry. Page 198. " Foul Penury, and Fears that kill." " The fear that kills. And hope that is unwilling to be fed." Wordsworth, Resolution and Independence. Page 20S. " His ears cut off." I find too late that I have written " ears " inadvertently for 'hands." Page 265. "Or those whom fair ASella sees Down-looking through her apple-trees." " And where Abella sees From her high towers the harvest of her trees." Dryden. NOTES. 481 Page 297 foil. In translating the description of the shield, I have endeav- ored to bear in mind, what I believe to be of great importance to the interpretation of the passage, that the various events of Roman history are represented, not in the precise way in which they are likely to have happened historically, but in the form supposed to be best adapted to tell the story to the eye. So the epithets do not characterize the persons or things as they are in themselves, but as they appear on the shield : e.g., the Gauls' hair is called golden because it is actually of gold. Page 317. " No after day This hour's fair promise shall betray." " All, all my life, replies the youth, shall aim, Like this one hour, at everlasting fame." Pitt. Page 320. " The maddening fever of the steel." I hope it will not be supposed that I mean " fever of the steel " as a version of " cupidine ferri." There is another sus- picion of the kind which I feel almost ashamed to rebut, in p. 382, where, though "encumbered and unstrung" is I trust a tolerable equivalent for " inutilis inque ligatus," " inligatus " JS not intended to be represented by " unstrung." Page 3J4. " Then, pierced to death, asleep he fell On the dead breast he loved so -well." " Then, quiet, on his bleeding bosom fell. Content in death to be revenged so well." Dryden. Page 331. " What God, what madness brings you here To taste of our Italian cheer f " What noble Lucumo comes next To taste our Roman cheer?" Macaulay's Lay* 31 482 NOTES. Fags 340. " Nor quit ike leaguered town." As Virgil repeatedly speaks of the Trojan camp as " urbs," I nave ventured here to call it a town. Page 366. " Like knot in sturdy vjood." Virgil's allusion in the word " nodum " is probably rather to a knot which needs untying than to a knot in wood ; but it was necessary to give some metaphor which might be equivp lent to his, and the resistance made by a knot in wood to the blade of an axe naturally suggested itself. Page 436. " Latiutn kas other maids unvied. And -worthy of a royal bed." " Yet more, three daughters in his court are bred. And each well worthy of a royal bed." Pope's Homer., Iliad, book ix. Page 437. " The arbitrament of fight to dare." •' Singly to dare the arbitrement of fight." Symmons's .iEneid, book xi. 562. Page 454. "And earth -with tramfling tkrobs and tkrills." The words " throbs and thrills " are taken from a poem by a friend to whose criticism this work owes much. Page 467. " And bucklers clashed ■with brazen din The overture of fight begin." " The overture of tyranny's begun " is the younger Sym- mons's version of ^sch. Ag. 1354, ^poi/unfovTat ySp (if Ttipowt- io^ aiifieia ■npaaaovre; ttoXsj.