The Aeneids of Virgil Part 24

At last the Trojan dukes of men, Mnestheus, Serestus fierce, Draw to a head when all this death is borne unto their ears, And see their folk all scattering wide, the foe amidst them see. 779 Then Mnestheus cries: "And whither now, and whither will ye flee?

What other walls, what other town have ye a hope to find?

Hath one man, O my town-fellows, whom your own ramparts bind, Wrought such a death and unavenged amid your very town, And sent so many lords of war by Orcus' road adown?

O dastards, your unhappy land, your G.o.ds of ancient days, Your great aeneas--what! no shame, no pity do they raise?"

Fired by such words, they gather heart and stand in close array, Till step by step 'gins Turnus now to yield him from the play, And seek the river and the side the wet wave girds about.

Then fiercer fall the Teucrians on, and raise a mighty shout, 790 And lock their ranks: as when a crowd of men-folk and of spears Falls on a lion hard of heart, and he, beset by fears, But fierce and grim-eyed, yieldeth way, though anger and his worth Forbid him turn his back about: no less to fare right forth Through spears and men avails him not, though ne'er so fain he be.

Not otherwise unhasty feet drew Turnus doubtfully Abackward, all his heart a-boil with anger's overflow.

Yea, twice, indeed, he falls again amidmost of the foe, And twice more turns to huddled flight their folk along the walls; But, gathered from the camp about, the whole host on him falls, 800 Nor durst Saturnian Juno now his might against them stay; For Jupiter from heaven hath sent Iris of airy way, No soft commands of his high doom bearing his sister down, If Turnus get him not away from Troy's high-builded town.

So now the warrior's s.h.i.+elded left the play endureth not, Nought skills his right hand; wrapped around in drift of weapon shot About his temples' hollow rings his helm with ceaseless clink; The starkly-fas.h.i.+oned brazen plates amid the stone-cast c.h.i.n.k; The crest is battered from his head; nor may the s.h.i.+eld-boss hold Against the strokes: the Trojans speed the spear-storm manifold, 810 And lightening Mnestheus thickeneth it: then over all his limbs The sweat bursts out, and all adown a pitchy river swims: Hard grows his breath, and panting sharp shaketh his body spent.

Until at last, all clad in arms, he leapt adown, and sent His body to the river fair, who in his yellow flood Caught him, and bore him forth away on ripple soft and good, And gave him merry to his men, washed from the battle's blood.

BOOK X.

ARGUMENT.

THE G.o.dS TAKE COUNSEL: aeNEAS COMETH TO HIS FOLK AGAIN, AND DOETH MANY GREAT DEEDS IN BATTLE.

Meanwhile is opened wide the door of dread Olympus' walls, And there the Sire of G.o.ds and Men unto the council calls, Amid the starry place, wherefrom, high-throned, he looks adown Upon the folk of Latin land and that beleaguered town.

There in the open house they sit, and he himself begins:

"O Dwellers in the House of Heaven, why backward thuswise wins Your purpose? Why, with hearts unruled, raise ye the strife so sore?

I clean forbade that Italy should clash with Troy in war.

Now why the war that I forbade? who egged on these or those To fear or fight, or drave them on with edge of sword to close? 10 Be not o'ereager in your haste: the hour of fight shall come, When dreadful Carthage on a day against the walls of Rome, Betwixt the opened doors of Alps, a mighty wrack shall send; Then may ye battle, hate to hate, and reach and grasp and rend: But now forbear, and joyfully knit fast the plighted peace."

Few words spake Jove; but not a few in answer unto these Gave golden Venus back again: "O Father, O eternal might of men and deeds of earth-- For what else may be left to me whereto to turn my prayers?-- Thou seest the Rutuli in pride, and Turnus, how he fares? 20 Amidst them, borne aloft by steeds, and, swelling, war-way sweeps With Mars to aid: the fenced place no more the Teucrians keeps, For now within the very gates and mound-heaped battlement They blend in fight, and flood of gore adown the ditch is sent, Unware aeneas is away.--Must they be never free From bond of leaguer? lo, again the threatening enemy Hangs over Troy new-born! Behold new host arrayed again From Arpi, the aetolian-built; against the Teucrian men Tydides riseth. So for me belike new wounds in store, And I, thy child, must feel the edge of arms of mortal war. 30 Now if without thy peace, without thy G.o.dhead's will to speed, The Trojans sought for Italy, let ill-hap pay ill deed, Nor stay them with thine help: but if they followed many a word Given forth by G.o.ds of Heaven and h.e.l.l, by whom canst thou be stirred To turn thy doom, or who to forge new fate may e'er avail?

Of s.h.i.+p-host burnt on Eryx sh.o.r.e why should I tell the tale?

Or of the king of wind and storm, or wild and windy crowd aeolia bred, or Iris sent adown the s.p.a.ce of cloud?

But now withal the G.o.ds of h.e.l.l, a world untried before, She stirreth, and Alecto sent up to the earthly sh.o.r.e 40 In sudden hurry raves about towns of Italian men.

No whit for lords.h.i.+p do I yearn: I hoped such glories then While Fortune was: let them be lords whom thou wilt doom for lords!

But if no land thy hard-heart wife to Teucrian men awards, Yet, Father, by the smoking wrack of overwhelmed Troy I pray thee from the weapon-dint safe let me send a boy, Yea, e'en Ascanius: let me keep my grandson safe for me!

Yea, let aeneas toss about on many an unknown sea, And let him follow wheresoe'er his fortune shall have led: But this one let me s.h.i.+eld, and take safe from the battle's dread. 50 Paphus, Cythera, Amathus, are mine, and I abide Within Idalia's house: let him lay weed of war aside, And wear his life inglorious there: then shalt thou bid the hand Of Carthage weigh Ausonia down, and nothing shall withstand The towns of Tyre.--Ah, what availed to 'scape the bane of war?

Ah, what availed that through the midst of Argive flames they bore To wear down perils of wide lands, and perils of the main, While Teucrian men sought Latin land and Troy new-born again?

Ah, better had it been for them by Troy's cold ash to stay, To dwell on earth where Troy hath been. Father, give back, I pray, 60 Their Xanthus and their Simos unto that wretched folk, And let them toil and faint once more 'neath Ilium's woeful yoke!"

Then spake Queen Juno, heavy wroth: "Why driv'st thou me to part My deep-set silence, and lay bare with words my grief of heart?

What one of all the G.o.ds or men aeneas drave to go On warring ways, or bear himself as King Latinus' foe?

Fate-bidden he sought Italy?--Yea, soothly, or maybe Spurned by Ca.s.sandra's wilderment--and how then counselled we To leave his camp and give his life to make the winds a toy?

To trust his walls and utmost point of war unto a boy? 70 To trust the Tuscan faith, and stir the peaceful folk to fight?

What G.o.d hath driven him to lie, what hardness of my might?

Works Juno here, or Iris sent adown the cloudy way?

'Tis wrong for Italy, forsooth, the ring of fire to lay Round Troy new-born; for Turnus still to hold his fathers' earth!-- Though him, Pilumnus' own son's son, Venilia brought to birth-- But what if Trojans fall with flame upon the Latin folk, And drive the prey from off their fields oppressed by outland yoke?

Or choose them sons-in-law, or brides from mothers' bosoms tear?

Or, holding peace within their hands, lade s.h.i.+ps with weapon-gear? 80 Thou erst hadst might from Greekish hands aeneas' self to draw, To thrust a cloud and empty wind in stead of man of war, And unto sea-nymphs s.h.i.+p by s.h.i.+p the s.h.i.+p-host mayst thou change.

But we to help the Rutuli, 'tis horrible and strange!

--Unware aeneas is away?--let him abide unware!

Paphus thou hast, Idalium, and high Cythera fair, Then why with cities big with war and hearts of warriors deal?

What! we it was who strove to wrack the fainting Trojan weal?

We!--or the one who thwart the Greeks the wretched Trojans dashed?

Yea, and what brought it all about that thus in arms they clashed, 90 Europe and Asia? that men brake the plighted peace by theft?

Did I the Dardan lecher lead, who Sparta's jewel reft?

Did I set weapons in his hand, breed l.u.s.t to breed debate?

Then had thy care for thine been meet, but now indeed o'erlate With wrongful plaint thou risest up, and bickerest emptily."

So pleaded Juno, and all they, the heavenly folk anigh, Murmured their doom in diverse wise; as when the first of wind Caught in the woods is murmuring on, and rolleth moanings blind, Betraying to the mariners the onset of the gale.

Then spake the Almighty Sire, in whom is all the world's avail, 100 And as he spake the high-built house of G.o.d was quieted, And earth from her foundations shook, and heaven was hushed o'erhead, The winds fell down, the face of sea was laid in quiet fair:

"Take ye these matters to your hearts, and set my sayings there; Since nowise the Ausonian folk the plighted troth may blend With Teucrians, and your contest seems a strife without an end; What fortune each may have today, what hope each one shears out, Trojan or Rutulan, will I hold all in balanced doubt, Whether the camp be so beset by fate of Italy, Or hapless wanderings of Troy, and warnings dealt awry. 110 Nor loose I Rutulans the more; let each one's way-faring Bear its own hap and toil, for Jove to all alike is king; The Fates will find a way to wend."

He nodded oath withal By his own Stygian brother's stream, the pitchy waters' fall, And blazing banks, and with his nod shook all Olympus' land.

Then fell the talk; from golden throne did Jupiter upstand, The heaven-abiders girt him round and brought him to the door.

The Rutuli amid all this are pressing on in war, Round all the gates to slay the men, the walls with fire to ring, And all aeneas' host is pent with fenced beleaguering. 120 Nor is there any hope of flight; upon the towers tall They stand, the hapless men in vain, thin garland for the wall; Asius, the son of Imbrasus, Thymoetes, and the two a.s.saraci, and Thymbris old, with Castor, deeds they do In the forefront; Sarpedon's sons, twin brethren, with them bide, Clarus and Themon, born erewhile in lofty Lycia's side.

And now Lyrnessian Acmon huge with strain of limbs strives hard, And raises up a mighty stone, no little mountain shard; As great as father Clytius he, or brother Mnestheus' might: 129 So some with stones, with spear-cast some, they ward the walls in fight, They deal with fire or notch the shaft upon the strained string.

But lo amidst, most meetly wrought for Venus cheris.h.i.+ng, His goodly head the Dardan boy unhooded there doth hold, As s.h.i.+neth out some stone of price, cleaving the yellow gold, Fair for the bosom or the head; or as the ivory s.h.i.+nes, That with Orician terebinth the art of man entwines, Or mid the boxwood; down along his milk-white neck they lie The streams of hair, which golden wire doth catch about and tie.

The mighty nations, Ismarus, there saw thee deft to speed The bane of men, envenoming the deadly flying reed; 140 Thou lord-born of Moeonian house, whereby the tiller tills Rich acres, where Pactolus' flood gold overflowing spills.

There, too, was Mnestheus, whom his deed late done of thrusting forth King Turnus from the battlements hath raised to heavenly worth, And Capys, he whose name is set upon Campania's town.

But while the bitter play of war went bickering up and down, aeneas clave the seas with keel amidst the dead of night: For when Evander he had left and reached the Tuscan might, He met their king and told his name, and whence his race of old, And what he would and how he wrought: and of the host he told, 150 Mezentius now had gotten him, and Turnus' wrothful heart; He warned him in affairs of men to trust not Fortune's part; And therewithal he mingleth prayers: Tarchon no while doth wait, But joineth hosts and plighteth troth; and so, set free by Fate, A-s.h.i.+pboard go the Lydian folk by G.o.d's command and grace, Yet 'neath the hand of outland duke: aeneas' s.h.i.+p hath place In forefront: Phrygian lions hang above its armed tyne O'ertopped by Ida, unto those Troy's outcasts happy sign: There great aeneas sits, and sends his mind a-wandering wide Through all the s.h.i.+fting chance of war; and by his left-hand side 160 Is Pallas asking of the stars and night-tide's journey dim, Or whiles of haps by land or sea that fortuned unto him.

Ye G.o.ddesses, ope Helicon, and raise the song to say What host from out the Tuscan land aeneas led away, And how they dight their s.h.i.+ps, and how across the sea they drave.

In brazen Tiger Ma.s.sicus first man the sea-plain clave; A thousand youths beneath him are that Clusium's walls have left And Cosae's city: these in war with arrow-shot are deft, And bear light quivers of the bark, and bear the deadly bow.

Then comes grim Abas, all his host with glorious arms aglow, 170 And on his stern Apollo gleams, well wrought in utter gold.

But Populonia's mother-land had given him there to hold Six hundred of the battle-craft; three hundred Ilva sent, Rich isle, whose wealth of Chalyb ore wastes never nor is spent.

The third is he, who carrieth men the words G.o.d hath to say, Asylas, whom the hearts of beasts and stars of heaven obey, And tongues of birds, and thunder-fire that coming tidings bears.

A thousand men he hurrieth on with bristling of the spears; Pisa, the town Alpheus built amid the Tuscan land, Bids them obey.

Came Astur next, goodliest of all the band; 180 Astur, who trusteth in his horse and s.h.i.+fty-coloured weed; Three hundred hath he, of one heart to wend as he shall lead: And these are they in Caeres' home and Minios' lea that bide, The Pyrgi old, and they that feel Gravisca's heavy tide.

Nor thee, best war-duke, Cinyras, of that Ligurian crew, Leave I unsung: nor thee the more, Cupavo lord of few, Up from the cresting of whose helm the feathery swan-wings rise.

Love was thy guilt; thy battle-sign was thine own father's guise.

For Cycnus, say they, while for love of Phaethon he grieves.

And sings beneath his sisters' shade, beneath the poplar-leaves; 190 While with the Muse some solace sweet for woeful love he won, A h.o.a.ry eld of feathers soft about him doth he on, Leaving the earth and following the stars with tuneful wails; And now his son amid his peers with Tuscan s.h.i.+p-host sails, Driving with oars the Centaur huge, who o'er the waters' face Hangs, threatening ocean with a rock, huge from his lofty place, And ever with his length of keel the deep sea furrows o'er.

Then he, e'en Ocnus, stirreth up folk from his father's sh.o.r.e, Who from the love of Tuscan flood and fate-wise Manto came, And gave, O Mantua, walls to thee, and gave his mother's name: 200 Mantua, the rich in father-folk, though not one-stemmed her home.

Three stems are there, from each whereof four peoples forth are come, While she herself, the head of all, from Tuscan blood hath might.

Five hundred thence Mezentius arms against himself in fight, Whom Mincius' flood, Benacus' son, veiled in the sedges grey, Was leading in the fir of fight across the watery way.

Then heavy-huge Aulestes goes; the oar-wood hundred-fold Rises for beating of the flood, as foam the seas uprolled.

Huge Triton ferries him, whose sh.e.l.l the deep blue sea doth fright: Up from the s.h.a.ggy naked waist manlike is he to sight 210 As there he swims, but underneath whale-bellied is he grown; Beneath the half-beast breast of him the foaming waters moan.

So many chosen dukes of men in thrice ten keels they sail, And cut with bra.s.s the meads of brine for Troy and its avail.

And now had day-tide failed the sky, and Phoebe, sweet and fair, Amid her nightly-straying wain did mid Olympus wear.

aeneas, who might give his limbs no whit of peacefulness, Was sitting with the helm in hand, heeding the sail-gear's stress, When lo a company of friends his midmost course do meet: The Nymphs to wit, who Cybele, the G.o.ddess holy-sweet, 220 Bade turn from s.h.i.+ps to very nymphs, and ocean's G.o.dhead have.