The Aeneids of Virgil Part 30

Ah, nothing it availed thee, maid, through deserts of the deer To wors.h.i.+p Dian, or our shafts upon thy back to bear.

And yet the Queen hath left thee not alone amidst of shame In grip of death; nor shalt thou die a death without a name In people's ears; nor yet as one all unavenged be told: For whosoever wronged thy flesh with wounding overbold Shall pay the penalty well earned."

Now 'neath the mountains high, All clad with shady holm-oaks o'er, a mighty mound doth lie, 850 The tomb of King Dercennus called, Laurentum's lord of yore; And thitherward her speedy feet that loveliest G.o.ddess bore, And there abiding, Arruns spied from off the high-heaped mound But when the wretch in gleaming arms puffed up with pride she found, "Why," quoth she, "dost thou turn away? Here, hither wend thy feet; Come here and perish; take reward for slain Camilla meet!

But ah, for death of such an one is Dian's arrow due?"

Then from the Thracian quiver gilt a winged shaft she drew, And bent the horn-wrought bow withal with heart on slaying set: Far drew she, till the curving horns each with the other met: 860 Alike she strained her hands to shoot; the left hand felt the steel, The right that drew the string aback her very breast did feel.

Then straightway Arruns heard in one the bow-string how it rung, And whistle of the wind; and there the shaft within him clung: His fellows leave him dying there and groaning out his last, Forgotten in an unknown field, amid the sand downcast; While to Olympus on the wing straightway is Opis borne.

But now first flees Camilla's band, their Queen and mistress lorn, And flee the beaten Rutuli, and fierce Atinas flees; The Dukes of men in disarray, the broken companies 870 Now turn their faces to the town, and seek a sheltering place, Nor yet may any turn with spear upon the Teucrian chase, That beareth death of men in hand, or bar the homeward road: Cast back on fainting shoulders now the loose bow hangs a load; The h.o.r.n.y hoofs of four-foot things shake down the dusty mead, The mirky cloud of rolling dust doth ever townward speed; And mothers beating of their b.r.e.a.s.t.s stand on the watch-towers high, And cast abroad their woman's wail up to the starry sky.

But they who in their fleeing first break through the open doors, In mingled tumult on their backs a crowd of foemen pours; 880 Nor do they 'scape a wretched death: there, on the threshold-stead, Within their fathers' walls, amidst the peace of home, they shed The lives from out their bodies pierced: then some men shut the gate, Nor durst they open to their friends, or take in them that wait Praying without; and there indeed is woeful slaughter towards Of them that fence the wall with swords, and rushers on the swords.

Those shut out 'neath the very eyes of weeping kith and kin, Some headlong down the ditches roll, by fleeing rout thrust in; Some blindly and with loosened rein spur on their steeds to meet As battering-rams the very gates, the ruthless door-leaves beat 890 And now, in agony of fight, the mothers on the walls, E'en as they saw Camilla do, (so love of country calls), With hurrying hands the javelins cast, and in the iron's stead Make s.h.i.+ft of hardened pale of oak and stake with half-burned head.

Hot-heart they are, afire to die the first their town to save.

Meanwhile to Turnus in the woods sweeps in that cruel wave Of tidings: trouble measureless doth Acca to him bring,-- The wasting of the Volscian host, Camilla's murdering, The onset of the baneful foe with favouring Mars to aid; The ruin of all things; present fear e'en on the city laid, 900 He, madly wroth, (for even so Jove's dreadful might deemed good), Leaveth the hills' beleaguerment and mirky rugged wood.

Scarce was he out of sight thereof, and nigh his camp to win, When mid the opened pa.s.s and bare aeneas entereth in, Climbeth the ridge, and slippeth through the thicket's shadowy night.

So either toward the city fares with all their battle-might, And no long s.p.a.ce of way indeed there was betwixt the twain, For e'en so soon as far away aeneas saw the plain Through dusty reek, and saw withal Laurentum's host afar, Turnus the fierce aeneas knew in all array of war, 910 And heard the marching footmen tramp, and coming horses neigh.

Then had they fallen to fight forthwith and tried the battle-play, But rosy Phoebus sank adown amidst Iberian flood His weary steeds, and brought back Night upon the failing day.

So there they pitch before the town and make their ramparts good.

BOOK XII.

ARGUMENT.

HEREIN ARE aeNEAS AND TURNUS PLEDGED TO FIGHT THE MATTER OUT IN SINGLE COMBAT; BUT THE LATINS BREAK THE PEACE AND aeNEAS IS WOUNDED: IN THE END aeNEAS MEETETH TURNUS INDEED, AND SLAYETH HIM.

When Turnus sees the Latin men all failing from the sword, Broken by Mars, and that all folk bethink them of his word.

And fall to mark him with their eyes, then fell he burns indeed, And raises up his heart aloft; e'en as in Punic mead The smitten lion, hurt in breast by steel from hunters' ring, Setteth the battle in array, and joyfully doth fling The mane from off his brawny neck, and fearless of his mood Breaks off the clinging robber-spear, and roars from mouth of blood; E'en so o'er Turnus' fiery heart the tide of fury wins, And thus he speaketh to the King, and hasty speech begins: 10

"No hanging back in Turnus is, and no aenean thrall Hath aught to do to break his word or plighted troth recall: I will go meet him: Father, bring the G.o.ds, the peace-troth plight; Then either I this Dardan thing will send adown to night,-- This rag of Asia,--Latin men a-looking on the play, And all alone the people's guilt my sword shall wipe away; Or let him take us beaten folk, and wed Lavinia then!"

But unto him from quiet soul Latinus spake again: "Great-hearted youth, by e'en so much as thou in valorous might Dost more excel, by so much I must counsel me aright, 20 And hang all haps that may betide in those sad scales of mine.

Thine are thy father Daunus' realms, a many towns are thine, Won by thine hand: Latinus too his gold and goodwill yields; But other high-born maids unwed dwell in Laurentine fields Or Latin land,--nay, suffer me to set all guile apart, And say a hard thing--do thou take this also to thine heart: To none of all her wooers of old my daughter may I wed; This warning word of prophecy all men and G.o.ds have sped.

But by thy kindred blood o'ercome, and by the love of thee, And by my sad wife's tears, I broke all bonds and set me free. 30 From son-in-law I rapt his bride, I drew a G.o.dless sword.

What mishaps and what wrack of peace have been my due reward Thou seest, Turnus, and what grief I was the first to bear.

Twice beaten in a woeful fight, scarce is our city here Held by the hope of Italy: still Tiber-flood rolls by, Warm with our blood, and 'neath our bones wide meadows whitening lie.

But whither waver I so oft? what folly s.h.i.+fts my mind?

If I am ready, Turnus dead, peace with these men to bind, Shall I not rather while thou liv'st cast all the war away?

What shall my kindred Rutuli, what shall Italia say, 40 If I deliver thee to death, (Fate thrust the words aside!) Thee, who hast wooed me for thy sire, my daughter for thy bride?

Look on the wavering hap of war, pity thy father's eld, Now far from thee in sorrow sore by ancient Ardea held."

But not a whit might all these words the wrath of Turnus bend.

Nay, worser waxed he, sickening more by medicine meant to mend: And e'en so soon as he might speak, such words were in his mouth: "Thy trouble for my sake, best lord, e'en for my sake forsooth, Lay down, I prithee; let me buy a little praise with death.

I too, O father, sow the spear, nor weak hand scattereth 50 The iron seed, with me afield: the blood-springs know my stroke.

Nor here shall be his G.o.ddess-dame with woman's cloud to cloak A craven king, and hide herself in empty mirky shade."

But now the Queen, by this new chance of battle sore afraid, Fell weeping, as her fiery son she held with dying eyes: "O Turnus, by these tears, by what of wors.h.i.+p for me lies Anigh thy heart; O, only hope of this my latter tide, Sole rest from sorrow! thou, in whom all wors.h.i.+p doth abide, All glory of the Latin name, our falling house-wall stay!

Set not thine hand to Teucrian war; this thing alone I pray. 60 Whatever lot abideth thee, O Turnus, mid the fight, Abideth me, and I with thee will leave the loathed light; Nor will I, made aeneas' thrall, behold him made my son."

Lavinia heard her mother's words with burning cheeks, whereon Lay rain of tears, for thereunto exceeding ruddy flush Had brought the fire that now along her litten face did rush: As when the Indian ivory they wrong with blood-red dye, Or when mid many lilies white the ruddy roses lie, E'en such a mingled colour showed upon the maiden's face.

Sore stirred by love upon the maid he fixed his constant gaze, 70 And, all the more afire for fight, thus to Amata said:

"I prithee, mother, with these tears, such sign of coming dread, Dog not my feet as forth I wend to Mavors' bitter play; For Turnus is not free to thrust the hour of death away.

Go, Idmon, bear the Phrygian lord these very words of mine, Nought for his pleasure: When the dawn tomorrow first shall s.h.i.+ne, And from her purple wheels aloft shall redden all the sky, Lead not thy Teucrians to the fight: Teucrians and Rutuli Shall let their swords be; and we twain, our blood shall quench the strife, And we upon that field shall woo Lavinia for a wife." 80

He spake, and to the roofed place now swiftly wending home, Called for his steeds, and merrily stood there before their foam, E'en those that Orithyia gave Pilumnus, gift most fair, Whose whiteness overpa.s.sed the snow, whose speed the winged air.

The busy horse-boys stand about, and lay upon their b.r.e.a.s.t.s The clapping of their hollow hands, and comb their maned crests.

But he the mail-coat doth on him well-wrought with golden scale And latten white; he fits the sword unto his hand's avail: His s.h.i.+eld therewith, and horned helm with ruddy crest o'erlaid: That sword, the very Might of Fire for father Daunus made, 90 And quenched the white-hot edge thereof amidst the Stygian flood.

Then the strong spear he took in hand that 'gainst the pillar stood, Amidmost of the house: that spear his hand won mightily From Actor of Aurunc.u.m erst; he shakes the quivering tree Loud crying: "Now, O spear of mine, who never heretofore Hast failed my call, the day draws on: thee the huge Actor bore, Now Turnus' right hand wieldeth thee: to aid, that I prevail To lay the Phrygian gelding low, and strip his rended mail By might of hand; to foul with dust the ringlets of his hair, Becrisped with curling-irons hot and drenched with plenteous myrrh!" 100

By such a fury is he driven; from all his countenance The fiery flashes leap, the flames in his fierce eyeb.a.l.l.s dance: As when a bull in first of fight raiseth a fearful roar, And teacheth wrath unto his horns and whets them for the war, And 'gainst the tree-trunks pusheth them, and thrusts the breezes home, And with the scattering of the sand preludeth fight to come.

Nor less aeneas, terrible, in Venus' armour dight, Now whetteth war; and in his heart stirreth the wrath of fight, That plighted peace shall lay the war fain is his heart and glad; His fellows' minds and bitter fear that makes Iulus sad 110 He solaceth with fate-wise words; then bids his folk to bear His answer to the Latin king and peace-laws to declare.

But scarce the morrow's dawn of day had lit the mountain steeps, And scarce the horses of the Sun drew upward from the deeps, And from their nostrils raised aloft blew forth the morning clear, When Trojans and Rutulian men the field of fight prepare, And measure out a s.p.a.ce beneath the mighty city's wall.

Midmost the hearths they hallow there to common G.o.ds of all, And gra.s.sy altars: other some bear fire, and fountain's flow, All linen clad, and vervain leaves are crowning every brow. 120 Forth comes the host of Italy, the men that wield the spear Pour outward from the crowded gate; the Trojan host is there, And all the Tyrrhene company in battle-gear diverse, Nor otherwise in iron clad, than if the War-G.o.d fierce Cried on to arms: and in the midst of war-ranks thousandfold The dukes are flitting, well beseen in purple dye and gold, E'en Mnestheus of a.s.saracus, Asylas huge of force, Messapus, Neptune's very son, the tamer of the horse.

But when the sign was given abroad each to his own place won, And set his spear-shaft in the earth and leaned his s.h.i.+eld thereon. 130 Then streamed forth mothers fain to see and elders feeble grown; The unarmed crowd beset the towers and houses of the town, And others of the people throng the high-built gates around.

But Juno from the steep that men now call the Alban mound (Though neither wors.h.i.+p, name, nor fame it bore upon that day), Was looking down upon the lists and either war-array Of Trojan and Laurentine men, and King Latinus' wall, Then upon Turnus' sister's ear her words of G.o.d did fall: A G.o.ddess she, the queen of mere and sounding river-wave; Which wors.h.i.+p Jupiter the King, the Heaven-Abider gave 140 A hallowed gift to pay her back for ravished maidenhood:

"O Nymph, the glory of the streams, heart well-beloved and good, Thee only, as thou know'st, I love of all who e'er have come Into the unkind bed of Jove from out a Latin home, With goodwill have I granted thee the heavenly house to share; Therefore, Juturna, know thy grief lest I the blame should bear: While Fortune would, and while the Fates allowed the Latin folk A happy day, so long did I thy town and Turnus cloak; But now I see him hastening on to meet the fated ill: His doomsday comes, the foeman's hand shall soon his hour fulfil. 150 I may not look upon the fight, or see the wagered field; But thou, if any present help thou durst thy brother yield, Haste, it behoves thee!--happier days on wretches yet may rise."

Scarce spake she ere Juturna poured the tear-flood from her eyes, And thrice and four times smote with hand her bosom well beseen.

"Nay, this is now no weeping-time," saith that Saturnian Queen, "Haste; s.n.a.t.c.h thy brother from the death if all be not undone, Or wake up war and rend apart the treaty scarce begun; And I am she that bids thee dare."

She urged her, and she left Her wavering mind and turmoiled heart with sorrow's torment cleft. 160

Meantime the Kings--Latinus there, a world of state around, Is borne upon the fourfold car, his gleaming temples bound With twice six golden rays, the sign of his own grandsire's light, The heavenly Sun; and Turnus wends with twi-yoked horses white, Tossing in hand two shafts of war with broad-beat points of steel.

And hither Father aeneas, spring of the Roman weal, Flaming with starry s.h.i.+eld and arms wrought in the heavenly home, And next to him Ascanius young, the second hope of Rome, Fare from the camp: the priest thereon, in unstained raiment due, Offereth a son of bristly sow and unshorn yearling ewe, 170 And bringeth up the four-foot hosts unto the flaming place.

But they, with all eyes turned about the rising sun to face, Give forth the salt meal from the hand, and with the iron sign The victims' brows, and mid the flame pour out the bowls of wine: Then good aeneas draws his sword, and thuswise prays the prayer: "Bear witness, Sun, and thou, O Land, who dost my crying hear!

Land, for whose sake I waxed in might, sustaining toils enow; And Thou, Almighty Father, hear! Saturnian Juno thou, Grown kinder, G.o.ddess, I beseech; and thou, most glorious Mars, Father, whose hand of utter might is master of all wars; 180 Ye Springs, and River-floods I call, and whatsoever G.o.d Is in the air, or whatso rules the blue sea with its rod-- If to Ausonian Turnus here Fortune shall give the day, The conquered to Evander's town shall straightly wend their way; Iulus shall depart the land, nor shall aeneas' folk Stir war hereafter, or with sword the Latin wrath provoke.

But if the grace of victory here bow down upon our fight; --(As I believe, as may the G.o.ds make certain with their might!)-- I will not bid the Italian men to serve the Teucrian's will; Nor for myself seek I the realm; but all unconquered still 190 Let either folk with equal laws plight peace for evermore: The G.o.ds and wors.h.i.+p I will give, Latinus see to war; My father lawful rule shall have; for me my Teucrians here Shall build a city, and that home Lavinia's name shall bear."

So first aeneas: after whom Latinus swears and says, Looking aloft, and stretching hands up towards the starry ways: "E'en so, aeneas, do I swear by Stars, and Sea, and Earth, By twi-faced Ja.n.u.s, and the twins Latona brought to birth, And by the nether Might of G.o.d and shrine of unmoved Dis; And may the Sire who halloweth in all troth-plight hearken this: 200 I hold the altars, and these G.o.ds and fires to witness take, That, as for Italy, no day the peace and troth shall break, What thing soever shall befall; no might shall conquer me.

Not such as with the wrack of flood shall mingle earth and sea, Nor such as into nether h.e.l.l shall melt the heavenly land.

E'en as this sceptre"--(for by chance he bore a staff in hand)-- "Shall never more to leaf.a.ge light and twig and shadow shoot, Since when amid the thicket-place, cut off from lowest root, It lost its mother, and the knife hath lopped it, leaf and bough,-- A tree once, but the craftsman's hand hath wrapped it seemly now 210 With bra.s.s about, and made it meet for hands of Latin lords."

So in the sight of all the chiefs with such abundant words They bound the troth-plight fast and sure: then folk in due wise slay The victims on the altar-flame, and draw the hearts away Yet living, and with platters full the holy altars pile.

But unto those Rutulian men unequal this long while The fight had seemed, and in their hearts the mingled trouble rose; And all the more, as nigher now they note the ill-matched foes, This helpeth Turnus' silent step, and suppliant wors.h.i.+pping About the altars, and his eyes that unto earth do cling, 220 His faded cheeks, his youthful frame that wonted colour lacks.

Wherefore Jaturna, when she hears the talk of people wax, And how the wavering hearts of men in diverse manner sway, Like unto Camers wendeth now amidst of that array; --A mighty man, from mighty blood, his father well renowned For valorous worth, and he himself keen in the battle found.

So through the mid array she speeds, well knowing what is toward, And soweth rumour on the wind and speaketh such a word:

"O shame ye not, Rutulian men, to offer up one soul For all your warriors? lack we aught in might or muster-roll 230 To match them? Here is all they have--Trojans, Arcadian peers, And that Etruscan Turnus' bane, the fateful band of spears: Why, if we meet, each second man shall scantly find a foe.

And now their king, upborne by fame, unto the G.o.ds shall go, Upon whose shrines he vows himself; his name shall live in tale.

But we shall lose our fatherland and 'neath proud lords shall fail, E'en those that sit there heavy-slow upon our fields today."