Aeneis
Choose a text
id="mobileReaderAuthor" class="mobile-reader-author" href="/authors/p-vergilius-maro-virgil" aria-label="More works by P. Vergilius Maro (Virgil)">
—
⋯
Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
6.1.1
After such words and tears, he flung free rein
6.1.2
To the swift fleet, which sped along the wave
6.1.3
To old Euboean Cumae's sacred shore.
6.1.4
They veer all prows to sea; the anchor fluke
6.1.5
Makes each ship sure, and shading the long strand
6.1.6
The rounded sterns jut o'er. Impetuously
6.1.7
The eager warriors leap forth to land
6.1.8
Upon Hesperian soil. One strikes the flint
6.1.9
To find the seed-spark hidden in its veins;
6.1.10
One breaks the thick-branched trees, and steals away
6.1.11
The shelter where the woodland creatures bide;
6.1.12
One leads his mates where living waters flow.
6.1.13
Aeneas, servant of the gods, ascends
6.1.14
The templed hill where lofty Phoebus reigns,
6.1.15
And that far-off, inviolable shrine
6.1.16
Of dread Sibylla, in stupendous cave,
6.1.17
O'er whose deep soul the god of Delos breathes
6.1.18
Prophetic gifts, unfolding things to come.
6.1.19
Here are pale Trivia's golden house and grove.
6.14.20
Here Daedalus, the ancient story tells,
6.14.21
Escaping Minos' power, and having made
6.14.22
Hazard of heaven on far-mounting wings,
6.14.23
Floated to northward, a cold, trackless way,
6.14.24
And lightly poised, at last, o'er Cumae's towers.
6.14.25
Here first to earth come down, he gave to thee
6.14.26
His gear of wings, Apollo! and ordained
6.14.27
Vast temples to thy name and altars fair.
6.14.28
On huge bronze doors Androgeos' death was done;
6.14.29
And Cecrops' children paid their debt of woe,
6.14.30
Where, seven and seven,—0 pitiable sight!—
6.14.31
The youths and maidens wait the annual doom,
6.14.32
Drawn out by lot from yonder marble urn.
6.14.33
Beyond, above a sea, lay carven Crete:—
6.14.34
The bull was there; the passion, the strange guile;
6.14.35
And Queen Pasiphae's brute-human son,
6.14.36
The Minotaur—of monstrous loves the sign.
6.14.37
Here was the toilsome, labyrinthine maze,
6.14.38
Where, pitying love-lorn Ariadne's tears,
6.14.39
The crafty Daedalus himself betrayed
6.14.40
The secret of his work; and gave the clue
6.14.41
To guide the path of Theseus through the gloom.
6.14.42
0 Icarus, in such well-graven scene
6.14.43
How proud thy place should be! but grief forbade:
6.14.44
Twice in pure gold a father's fingers strove
6.14.45
To shape thy fall, and twice they strove in vain.
6.14.46
Aeneas long the various work would scan;
6.14.47
But now Achates comes, and by his side
6.14.48
Deiphobe, the Sibyl, Glaucus' child.
6.14.49
Thus to the prince she spoke :
6.14.50
“Is this thine hour
6.14.51
To stand and wonder? Rather go obtain
6.14.52
From young unbroken herd the bullocks seven,
6.14.53
And seven yearling ewes, our wonted way.”
6.14.54
Thus to Aeneas; his attendants haste
6.14.55
To work her will; the priestess, calling loud,
6.14.56
Gathers the Trojans to her mountain-shrine.
6.42.57
Deep in the face of that Euboean crag
6.42.58
A cavern vast is hollowed out amain,
6.42.59
With hundred openings, a hundred mouths,
6.42.60
Whence voices flow, the Sibyl's answering songs.
6.42.61
While at the door they paused, the virgin cried :
6.42.62
“Ask now thy doom!—the god! the god is nigh!”
6.42.63
So saying, from her face its color flew,
6.42.64
Her twisted locks flowed free, the heaving breast
6.42.65
Swelled with her heart's wild blood; her stature seemed
6.42.66
Vaster, her accent more than mortal man,
6.42.67
As all th' oncoming god around her breathed :
6.42.68
“On with thy vows and prayers, 0 Trojan, on!
6.42.69
For only unto prayer this haunted cave
6.42.70
May its vast lips unclose.” She spake no more.
6.42.71
An icy shudder through the marrow ran
6.42.72
Of the bold Trojans; while their sacred King
6.42.73
Poured from his inmost soul this plaint and prayer :
6.42.74
“Phoebus, who ever for the woes of Troy
6.42.75
Hadst pitying eyes! who gavest deadly aim
6.42.76
To Paris when his Dardan shaft he hurled
6.42.77
On great Achilles! Thou hast guided me
6.42.78
Through many an unknown water, where the seas
6.42.79
Break upon kingdoms vast, and to the tribes
6.42.80
Of the remote Massyli, whose wild land
6.42.81
To Syrtes spreads. But now; because at last
6.42.82
I touch Hesperia's ever-fleeting bound,
6.42.83
May Troy's ill fate forsake me from this day!
6.42.84
0 gods and goddesses, beneath whose wrath
6.42.85
Dardania's glory and great Ilium stood,
6.42.86
Spare, for ye may, the remnant of my race!
6.42.87
And thou, most holy prophetess, whose soul
6.42.88
Foreknows events to come, grant to my prayer
6.42.89
(Which asks no kingdom save what Fate decrees)
6.42.90
That I may stablish in the Latin land
6.42.91
My Trojans, my far-wandering household-gods,
6.42.92
And storm-tossed deities of fallen Troy.
6.42.93
Then unto Phoebus and his sister pale
6.42.94
A temple all of marble shall be given,
6.42.95
And festal days to Phoebus evermore.
6.42.96
Thee also in my realms a spacious shrine
6.42.97
Shall honor; thy dark books and holy songs
6.42.98
I there will keep, to be my people's law;
6.42.99
And thee, benignant Sibyl for all time
6.42.100
A company of chosen priests shall serve.
6.42.101
O, not on leaves, light leaves, inscribe thy songs!
6.42.102
Lest, playthings of each breeze, they fly afar
6.42.103
In swift confusion! Sing thyself, I pray.”
6.42.104
So ceased his voice;the virgin through the cave,
6.42.105
Scarce bridled yet by Phoebus' hand divine,
6.42.106
Ecstatic swept along, and vainly stove
6.42.107
To fing its potent master from her breast;
6.42.108
But he more strongly plied his rein and curb
6.42.109
Upon her frenzied lips, and soon subdued
6.42.110
Her spirit fierce, and swayed her at his will.
6.42.111
Free and self-moved the cavern's hundred adoors
6.42.112
Swung open wide, and uttered to the air
6.42.113
The oracles the virgin-priestess sung :
6.42.114
“Thy long sea-perils thou hast safely passed;
6.42.115
But heavier woes await thee on the land.
6.42.116
Truly thy Trojans to Lavinian shore
6.42.117
Shall come—vex not thyself thereon—but, oh!
6.42.118
Shall rue their coming thither! war, red war!
6.42.119
And Tiber stained with bloody foam I see.
6.42.120
Simois, Xanthus, and the Dorian horde
6.42.121
Thou shalt behold; a new Achilles now
6.42.122
In Latium breathes,—he, too, of goddess born;
6.42.123
And Juno, burden of the sons of Troy,
6.42.124
Will vex them ever; while thyself shalt sue
6.42.125
In dire distress to many a town and tribe
6.42.126
Through Italy; the cause of so much ill
6.42.127
Again shall be a hostess-queen, again
6.42.128
A marriage-chamber for an alien bride.
6.42.129
Oh! yield not to thy woe, but front it ever,
6.42.130
And follow boldly whither Fortune calls.
6.42.131
Thy way of safety, as thou least couldst dream,
6.42.132
Lies through a city of the Greeks, thy foes.”
6.98.133
Thus from her shrine Cumaea's prophetess
6.98.134
Chanted the dark decrees; the dreadful sound
6.98.135
Reverberated through the bellowing cave,
6.98.136
Commingling truth with ecstasies obscure.
6.98.137
Apollo, as she raged, flung loosened rein,
6.98.138
And thrust beneath her heart a quickening spur.
6.98.139
When first her madness ceased, and her wild lips
6.98.140
Were still at last, the hero thus began :
6.98.141
“No tribulations new, 0 Sibyl blest,
6.98.142
Can now confront me; every future pain
6.98.143
I have foretasted; my prophetic soul
6.98.144
Endured each stroke of fate before it fell.
6.98.145
One boon I ask. If of th' infernal King
6.98.146
This be the portal where the murky wave
6.98.147
Of swollen Acheron o'erflows its bound,
6.98.148
Here let me enter and behold the face
6.98.149
Of my loved sire. Thy hand may point the way;
6.98.150
Thy word will open wide yon holy doors.
6.98.151
My father through the flames and falling spears,
6.98.152
Straight through the centre of our foes, I bore
6.98.153
Upon these shoulders. My long flight he shared
6.98.154
From sea to sea, and suffered at my side
6.98.155
The anger of rude waters and dark skies,—
6.98.156
Though weak—0 task too great for old and gray!
6.98.157
Thus as a suppliant at thy door to stand,
6.98.158
Was his behest and prayer. On son and sire,
6.98.159
0 gracious one, have pity,—for thy rule
6.98.160
Is over all; no vain authority
6.98.161
Hadst thou from Trivia o'er th' Avernian groves.
6.98.162
If Orpheus could call back his loved one's shade,
6.98.163
Emboldened by the lyre's melodious string :
6.98.164
If Pollux by the interchange of death
6.98.165
Redeemed his twin, and oft repassed the way :
6.98.166
If Theseus—but why name him? why recall
6.98.167
Alcides' task? I, too, am sprung from Jove.”
6.124.168
Thus, to the altar clinging, did he pray :
6.124.169
The Sibyl thus replied : “Offspring of Heaven,
6.124.170
Anchises' son, the downward path to death
6.124.171
Is easy; all the livelong night and day
6.124.172
Dark Pluto's door stands open for a guest.
6.124.173
But 0! remounting to the world of light,
6.124.174
This is a task indeed, a strife supreme.
6.124.175
Few, very few, whom righteous Jove did bless,
6.124.176
Or quenchless virtue carried to the stars,
6.124.177
Children of gods, have such a victory won.
6.124.178
Grim forests stop the way, and, gliding slow,
6.124.179
Cocytus circles through the sightless gloom.
6.124.180
But if it be thy dream and fond desire
6.124.181
Twice o'er the Stygian gulf to travel, twice
6.124.182
On glooms of Tartarus to set thine eyes,
6.124.183
If such mad quest be now thy pleasure—hear
6.124.184
What must be first fulfilled . A certain tree
6.124.185
Hides in obscurest shade a golden bough,
6.124.186
Of pliant stems and many a leaf of gold,
6.124.187
Sacred to Proserpine, infernal Queen.
6.124.188
Far in the grove it hides; in sunless vale
6.124.189
Deep shadows keep it in captivity.
6.124.190
No pilgrim to that underworld can pass
6.124.191
But he who plucks this burgeoned, leafy gold;
6.124.192
For this hath beauteous Proserpine ordained
6.124.193
Her chosen gift to be. Whene'er it is culled,
6.124.194
A branch out-leafing in like golden gleam,
6.124.195
A second wonder-stem, fails not to spring.
6.124.196
Therefore go seek it with uplifted eyes!
6.124.197
And when by will of Heaven thou findest it,
6.124.198
Reach forth and pluck; for at a touch it yields,
6.124.199
A free and willing gift, if Fate ordain;
6.124.200
But otherwise no mortal strength avails,
6.124.201
Nor strong, sharp steel, to rend it from the tree.
6.124.202
Another task awaits; thy friend's cold clay
6.124.203
Lies unentombed. Alas! thou art not ware
6.124.204
(While in my house thou lingerest, seeking light)
6.124.205
That all thy ships are by his death defiled.
6.124.206
Unto his resting-place and sepulchre,
6.124.207
Go, carry him! And sable victims bring,
6.124.208
In expiation, to his mournful shade.
6.124.209
So at the last on yonder Stygian groves,
6.124.210
And realms to things that breathe impassable,
6.124.211
Thine eye shall gaze.” So closed her lips inspired.
6.156.212
Aeneas then drew forth, with downcast eyes,
6.156.213
From that dark cavern, pondering in his heart
6.156.214
The riddle of his fate. His faithful friend
6.156.215
Achates at his side, with paces slow,
6.156.216
Companioned all his care, while their sad souls
6.156.217
Made mutual and oft-renewed surmise
6.156.218
What comrade dead, what cold and tombless clay,
6.156.219
The Sibyl's word would show.
6.156.220
6.156.220
But as they mused,
6.156.221
Behold Misenus on the dry sea-sands,
6.156.222
By hasty hand of death struck guiltless down!
6.156.223
A son of Aeolus, none better knew
6.156.224
To waken heroes by the clarion's call,
6.156.225
With war-enkindling sound. Great Hector's friend
6.156.226
In happier days, he oft at Hector's side
6.156.227
Strode to the fight with glittering lance and horn.
6.156.228
But when Achilles stripped his fallen foe,
6.156.229
This dauntless hero to Aeneas gave
6.156.230
Allegiance true, in not less noble cause.
6.156.231
But, on a day, he chanced beside the sea
6.156.232
To blow his shell-shaped horn, and wildly dared
6.156.233
Challenge the gods themselves to rival song;
6.156.234
Till jealous Triton, if the tale be true,
6.156.235
Grasped the rash mortal, and out-flung him far
6.156.236
'mid surf-beat rocks and waves of whirling foam.
6.156.237
Now from all sides, with tumult and loud cry,
6.156.238
The Trojans came,—Aeneas leading all
6.156.239
In faithful grief; they hasten to fulfil
6.156.240
The Sibyl's mandate, and with many a tear
6.156.241
Build, altar-wise, a pyre, of tree on tree
6.156.242
Heaped high as heaven : then they penetrate
6.156.243
The tall, old forest, where wild creatures bide,
6.156.244
And fell pitch-pines, or with resounding blows
6.156.245
Of axe and wedge, cleave oak and ash-tree through,
6.156.246
Or logs of rowan down the mountains roll.
6.183.247
Aeneas oversees and shares the toil,
6.183.248
Cheers on his mates, and swings a woodman's steel.
6.183.249
But, sad at heart with many a doubt and care,
6.183.250
O'erlooks the forest wide; then prays aloud :
6.183.251
“0, that the Golden Bough from this vast grove
6.183.252
Might o'er me shine! For, 0 Aeolides,
6.183.253
The oracle foretold thy fate, too well!”
6.183.254
Scarce had he spoken, when a pair of doves
6.183.255
Before his very eyes flew down from heaven
6.183.256
To the green turf below; the prince of Troy
6.183.257
Knew them his mother's birds, and joyful cried,
6.183.258
“0, guide me on, whatever path there be!
6.183.259
In airy travel through the woodland fly,
6.183.260
To where yon rare branch shades the blessed ground.
6.183.261
Fail thou not me, in this my doubtful hour,
6.183.262
0 heavenly mother!” So saying, his steps lie stayed,
6.183.263
Close watching whither they should signal give;
6.183.264
The lightly-feeding doves flit on and on,
6.183.265
Ever in easy ken of following eyes,
6.183.266
Till over foul Avernus' sulphurous throat
6.183.267
Swiftly they lift them through the liquid air,
6.183.268
In silent flight, and find a wished-for rest
6.183.269
On a twy-natured tree, where through green boughs
6.183.270
Flames forth the glowing gold's contrasted hue.
6.183.271
As in the wintry woodland bare and chill,
6.183.272
Fresh-budded shines the clinging mistletoe,
6.183.273
Whose seed is never from the parent tree
6.183.274
O'er whose round limbs its tawny tendrils twine,—
6.183.275
So shone th' out-leafing gold within the shade
6.183.276
Of dark holm-oak, and so its tinsel-bract
6.183.277
Rustled in each light breeze. Aeneas grasped
6.183.278
The lingering bough, broke it in eager haste,
6.183.279
And bore it straightway to the Sibyl's shrine.
6.212.280
Meanwhile the Trojans on the doleful shore
6.212.281
Bewailed Misenus, and brought tribute there
6.212.282
Of grief's last gift to his unheeding clay.
6.212.283
First, of the full-sapped pine and well-hewn oak
6.212.284
A lofty pyre they build; then sombre boughs
6.212.285
Around it wreathe, and in fair order range
6.212.286
Funereal cypress; glittering arms are piled
6.212.287
High over all; on blazing coals they lift
6.212.288
Cauldrons of brass brimmed o'er with waters pure;
6.212.289
And that cold, lifeless clay lave and anoint
6.212.290
With many a moan and cry; on their last couch
6.212.291
The poor, dead limbs they lay, and mantle o'er
6.212.292
With purple vesture and familiar pall.
6.212.293
Then in sad ministry the chosen few,
6.212.294
With eyes averted, as our sires did use,
6.212.295
Hold the enkindling torch beneath the pyre :
6.212.296
They gather up and burn the gifts of myrrh,
6.212.297
The sacred bread and bowls of flowing oil;
6.212.298
And when in flame the dying embers fall,
6.212.299
On thirsty ash they pour the streams of wine.
6.212.300
Good Corynaeus, in an urn of brass
6.212.301
The gathered relics hides; and three times round,
6.212.302
With blessed olive branch and sprinkling dew,
6.212.303
Purges the people with ablution cold,
6.212.304
In lustral rite; oft chanting, “Hail! Farewell!”
6.212.305
Faithful Aeneas for his comrade built
6.212.306
A mighty tomb, and dedicated there
6.212.307
Trophy of arms, with trumpet and with oar,
6.212.308
Beneath a windy hill, which now is called
6.212.309
“Misenus,”—for all time the name to bear.
6.236.310
After these toils, they hasten to fulfil
6.236.311
What else the Sibyl said. Straightway they find
6.236.312
A cave profound, of entrance gaping wide,
6.236.313
O'erhung with rock, in gloom of sheltering grove,
6.236.314
Near the dark waters of a lake, whereby
6.236.315
No bird might ever pass with scathless wing,
6.236.316
So dire an exhalation is breathed out
6.236.317
From that dark deep of death to upper air :—
6.236.318
Hence, in the Grecian tongue, Aornos called.
6.236.319
Here first four youthful bulls of swarthy hide
6.236.320
Were led for sacrifice; on each broad brow
6.236.321
The priestess sprinkled wine; 'twixt the two horns
6.236.322
Outplucked the lifted hair, and cast it forth
6.236.323
Upon the holy flames, beginning so
6.236.324
Her offerings; then loudly sued the power
6.236.325
of Hecate, a Queen in heaven and hell.
6.236.326
Some struck with knives, and caught in shallow bowls
6.236.327
The smoking blood. Aeneas' lifted hand
6.236.328
Smote with a sword a sable-fleeced ewe
6.236.329
To Night, the mother of th' Eumenides,
6.236.330
And Earth, her sister dread; next unto thee,
6.236.331
O Proserpine, a curst and barren cow;
6.236.332
Then unto Pluto, Stygian King, he built
6.236.333
An altar dark, and piled upon the flames
6.236.334
The ponderous entrails of the bulls, and poured
6.236.335
Free o'er the burning flesh the goodly oil.
6.236.336
Then lo! at dawn's dim, earliest beam began
6.236.337
Beneath their feet a groaning of the ground :
6.236.338
The wooded hill-tops shook, and, as it seemed,
6.236.339
She-hounds of hell howled viewless through the shade ,
6.236.340
To hail their Queen. “Away, 0 souls profane!
6.236.341
Stand far away!” the priestess shrieked, “nor dare
6.236.342
Unto this grove come near! Aeneas, on!
6.236.343
Begin thy journey! Draw thy sheathed blade!
6.236.344
Now, all thy courage! now, th' unshaken soul!”
6.236.345
She spoke, and burst into the yawning cave
6.236.346
With frenzied step; he follows where she leads,
6.236.347
And strides with feet unfaltering at her side.
6.264.348
Ye gods! who rule the spirits of the dead!
6.264.349
Ye voiceless shades and silent lands of night!
6.264.350
0 Phlegethon! 0 Chaos! let my song,
6.264.351
If it be lawful, in fit words declare
6.264.352
What I have heard; and by your help divine
6.264.353
Unfold what hidden things enshrouded lie
6.264.354
In that dark underworld of sightless gloom.
6.268.355
They walked exploring the unpeopled night,
6.268.356
Through Pluto's vacuous realms, and regions void,
6.268.357
As when one's path in dreary woodlands winds
6.268.358
Beneath a misty moon's deceiving ray,
6.268.359
When Jove has mantled all his heaven in shade,
6.268.360
And night seals up the beauty of the world.
6.268.361
In the first courts and entrances of Hell
6.268.362
Sorrows and vengeful Cares on couches lie :
6.268.363
There sad Old Age abides, Diseases pale,
6.268.364
And Fear, and Hunger, temptress to all crime;
6.268.365
Want, base and vile, and, two dread shapes to see,
6.268.366
Bondage and Death : then Sleep, Death's next of kin;
6.268.367
And dreams of guilty joy. Death-dealing War
6.268.368
Is ever at the doors, and hard thereby
6.268.369
The Furies' beds of steel, where wild-eyed Strife
6.268.370
Her snaky hair with blood-stained fillet binds.
6.282.371
There in the middle court a shadowy elm
6.282.372
Its ancient branches spreads, and in its leaves
6.282.373
Deluding visions ever haunt and cling.
6.282.374
Then come strange prodigies of bestial kind :
6.282.375
Centaurs are stabled there, and double shapes
6.282.376
Like Scylla, or the dragon Lerna bred,
6.282.377
With hideous scream; Briareus clutching far
6.282.378
His hundred hands, Chimaera girt with flame,
6.282.379
A crowd of Gorgons, Harpies of foul wing,
6.282.380
And giant Geryon's triple-monstered shade.
6.282.381
Aeneas, shuddering with sudden fear,
6.282.382
Drew sword and fronted them with naked steel;
6.282.383
And, save his sage conductress bade him know
6.282.384
These were but shapes and shadows sweeping by,
6.282.385
His stroke had cloven in vain the vacant air.
6.295.386
Hence the way leads to that Tartarean stream
6.295.387
Of Acheron, whose torrent fierce and foul
6.295.388
Disgorges in Cocytus all its sands.
6.295.389
A ferryman of gruesome guise keeps ward
6.295.390
Upon these waters,—Charon, foully garbed,
6.295.391
With unkempt, thick gray beard upon his chin,
6.295.392
And staring eyes of flame; a mantle coarse,
6.295.393
All stained and knotted, from his shoulder falls,
6.295.394
As with a pole he guides his craft, tends sail,
6.295.395
And in the black boat ferries o'er his dead;—
6.295.396
Old, but a god's old age looks fresh and strong.
6.295.397
To those dim shores the multitude streams on—
6.295.398
Husbands and wives, and pale, unbreathing forms
6.295.399
Of high-souled heroes, boys and virgins fair,
6.295.400
And strong youth at whose graves fond parents mourned.
6.295.401
As numberless the throng as leaves that fall
6.295.402
When autumn's early frost is on the grove;
6.295.403
Or like vast flocks of birds by winter's chill
6.295.404
Sent flying o'er wide seas to lands of flowers.
6.295.405
All stood beseeching to begin their voyage
6.295.406
Across that river, and reached out pale hands,
6.295.407
In passionate yearning for its distant shore.
6.295.408
But the grim boatman takes now these, now those,
6.295.409
Or thrusts unpitying from the stream away.
6.295.410
Aeneas, moved to wonder and deep awe,
6.295.411
Beheld the tumult; “Virgin seer!” he cried, .
6.295.412
“Why move the thronging ghosts toward yonder stream?
6.295.413
What seek they there? Or what election holds
6.295.414
That these unwilling linger, while their peers
6.295.415
Sweep forward yonder o'er the leaden waves?”
6.295.416
To him, in few, the aged Sibyl spoke :
6.295.417
“Son of Anchises, offspring of the gods,
6.295.418
Yon are Cocytus and the Stygian stream,
6.295.419
By whose dread power the gods themselves do fear
6.295.420
To take an oath in vain. Here far and wide
6.295.421
Thou seest the hapless throng that hath no grave.
6.295.422
That boatman Charon bears across the deep
6.295.423
Such as be sepulchred with holy care.
6.295.424
But over that loud flood and dreadful shore
6.295.425
No trav'ler may be borne, until in peace
6.295.426
His gathered ashes rest. A hundred years
6.295.427
Round this dark borderland some haunt and roam,
6.295.428
Then win late passage o'er the longed-for wave.”
6.295.429
Aeneas lingered for a little space,
6.295.430
Revolving in his soul with pitying prayer
6.295.431
Fate's partial way. But presently he sees
6.295.432
Leucaspis and the Lycian navy's lord,
6.295.433
Orontes; both of melancholy brow,
6.295.434
Both hapless and unhonored after death,
6.295.435
Whom, while from Troy they crossed the wind-swept seas,
6.295.436
A whirling tempest wrecked with ship and crew.
6.337.437
There, too, the helmsman Palinurus strayed :
6.337.438
Who, as he whilom watched the Libyan stars,
6.337.439
Had fallen, plunging from his lofty seat
6.337.440
Into the billowy deep. Aeneas now
6.337.441
Discerned his sad face through the blinding gloom,
6.337.442
And hailed him thus : “0 Palinurus, tell
6.337.443
What god was he who ravished thee away
6.337.444
From me and mine, beneath the o'crwhelming wave?
6.337.445
Speak on! for he who ne'er had spoke untrue,
6.337.446
Apollo's self, did mock my listening mind,
6.337.447
And chanted me a faithful oracle
6.337.448
That thou shouldst ride the seas unharmed, and touch
6.337.449
Ausonian shores. Is this the pledge divine?”
6.337.450
Then he, “0 chieftain of Anchises' race,
6.337.451
Apollo's tripod told thee not untrue.
6.337.452
No god did thrust me down beneath the wave,
6.337.453
For that strong rudder unto which I clung,
6.337.454
My charge and duty, and my ship's sole guide,
6.337.455
Wrenched from its place, dropped with me as I fell.
6.337.456
Not for myself—by the rude seas I swear—
6.337.457
Did I have terror, but lest thy good ship,
6.337.458
Stripped of her gear, and her poor pilot lost,
6.337.459
Should fail and founder in that rising flood.
6.337.460
Three wintry nights across the boundless main
6.337.461
The south wind buffeted and bore me on;
6.337.462
At the fourth daybreak, lifted from the surge,
6.337.463
I looked at last on Italy, and swam
6.337.464
With weary stroke on stroke unto the land.
6.337.465
Safe was I then. Alas! but as I climbed
6.337.466
With garments wet and heavy, my clenched hand
6.337.467
Grasping the steep rock, came a cruel horde
6.337.468
Upon me with drawn blades, accounting me—
6.337.469
So blind they were!—a wrecker's prize and spoil.
6.337.470
Now are the waves my tomb; and wandering winds
6.337.471
Toss me along the coast. 0, I implore,
6.337.472
By heaven's sweet light, by yonder upper air,
6.337.473
By thy lost father, by Iulus dear,
6.337.474
Thy rising hope and joy, that from these woes,
6.337.475
Unconquered chieftain, thou wilt set me free!
6.337.476
Give me a grave where Velia's haven lies,
6.337.477
For thou hast power! Or if some path there be,
6.337.478
If thy celestial mother guide thee here
6.337.479
(For not, I ween, without the grace of gods
6.337.480
Wilt cross yon rivers vast, you Stygian pool)
6.337.481
Reach me a hand! and bear with thee along!
6.337.482
Until (least gift!) death bring me peace and calm.”
6.337.483
Such words he spoke: the priestess thus replied:
6.337.484
“Why, Palinurus, these unblest desires?
6.337.485
Wouldst thou, unsepulchred, behold the wave
6.337.486
Of Styx, stern river of th' Eumenides?
6.337.487
Wouldst thou, unbidden, tread its fearful strand?
6.337.488
Hope not by prayer to change the laws of Heaven!
6.337.489
But heed my words, and in thy memory
6.337.490
Cherish and keep, to cheer this evil time.
6.337.491
Lo, far and wide, led on by signs from Heaven,
6.337.492
Thy countrymen from many a templed town
6.337.493
Shall consecrate thy dust, and build thy tomb,
6.337.494
A tomb with annual feasts and votive flowers,
6.337.495
To Palinurus a perpetual fame!”
6.337.496
Thus was his anguish stayed, from his sad heart
6.337.497
Grief ebbed awhile, and even to this day,
6.337.498
Our land is glad such noble name to wear.
6.384.499
The twain continue now their destined way
6.384.500
Unto the river's edge. The Ferryman,
6.384.501
Who watched them through still groves approach his shore,
6.384.502
Hailed them, at distance, from the Stygian wave,
6.384.503
And with reproachful summons thus began:
6.384.504
“Whoe'er thou art that in this warrior guise
6.384.505
Unto my river comest,—quickly tell
6.384.506
Thine errand! Stay thee where thou standest now!
6.384.507
This is ghosts' land, for sleep and slumbrous dark.
6.384.508
That flesh and blood my Stygian ship should bear
6.384.509
Were lawless wrong. Unwillingly I took
6.384.510
Alcides, Theseus, and Pirithous,
6.384.511
Though sons of gods, too mighty to be quelled.
6.384.512
One bound in chains yon warder of Hell's door,
6.384.513
And dragged him trembling from our monarch's throne:
6.384.514
The others, impious, would steal away
6.384.515
Out of her bride-bed Pluto's ravished Queen.”
6.384.516
Briefly th' Amphrysian priestess made reply:
6.384.517
“Not ours, such guile: Fear not! This warrior's arms
6.384.518
Are innocent. Let Cerberus from his cave
6.384.519
Bay ceaselessly, the bloodless shades to scare;
6.384.520
Let Proserpine immaculately keep
6.384.521
The house and honor of her kinsman King.
6.384.522
Trojan Aeneas, famed for faithful prayer
6.384.523
And victory in arms, descends to seek
6.384.524
His father in this gloomy deep of death.
6.384.525
If loyal goodness move not such as thee,
6.384.526
This branch at least” (she drew it from her breast)
6.384.527
“Thou knowest well.”
6.384.528
Then cooled his wrathful heart;
6.384.529
With silent lips he looked and wondering eyes
6.384.530
Upon that fateful, venerable wand,
6.384.531
Seen only once an age. Shoreward he turned,
6.384.532
And pushed their way his boat of leaden hue.
6.384.533
The rows of crouching ghosts along the thwarts
6.384.534
He scattered, cleared a passage, and gave room
6.384.535
To great Aeneas. The light shallop groaned
6.384.536
Beneath his weight, and, straining at each seam,
6.384.537
Took in the foul flood with unstinted flow.
6.384.538
At last the hero and his priestess-guide
6.384.539
Came safe across the river, and were moored
6.384.540
'mid sea-green sedges in the formless mire.
6.417.541
Here Cerberus, with triple-throated roar,
6.417.542
Made all the region ring, as there he lay
6.417.543
At vast length in his cave. The Sibyl then,
6.417.544
Seeing the serpents writhe around his neck,
6.417.545
Threw down a loaf with honeyed herbs imbued
6.417.546
And drowsy essences: he, ravenous,
6.417.547
Gaped wide his three fierce mouths and snatched the bait,
6.417.548
Crouched with his large backs loose upon the ground,
6.417.549
And filled his cavern floor from end to end.
6.417.550
Aeneas through hell's portal moved, while sleep
6.417.551
Its warder buried; then he fled that shore
6.417.552
Of Stygian stream, whence travellers ne'er return.
6.426.553
Now hears he sobs, and piteous, lisping cries
6.426.554
Of souls of babes upon the threshold plaining;
6.426.555
Whom, ere they took their portion of sweet life,
6.426.556
Dark Fate from nursing bosoms tore, and plunged
6.426.557
In bitterness of death. Nor far from these,
6.426.558
The throng of dead by unjust judgment slain.
6.426.559
Not without judge or law these realms abide:
6.426.560
Wise Minos there the urn of justice moves,
6.426.561
And holds assembly of the silent shades,
6.426.562
Hearing the stories of their lives and deeds.
6.426.563
Close on this place those doleful ghosts abide,
6.426.564
Who, not for crime, but loathing life and light
6.426.565
With their own hands took death, and cast away
6.426.566
The vital essence. Willingly, alas!
6.426.567
They now would suffer need, or burdens bear,
6.426.568
If only life were given! But Fate forbids.
6.426.569
Around them winds the sad, unlovely wave
6.426.570
Of Styx: nine times it coils and interflows.
6.426.571
Not far from hence, on every side outspread,
6.426.572
The Fields of Sorrow lie,—such name they bear;
6.426.573
Here all whom ruthless love did waste away
6.426.574
Wander in paths unseen, or in the gloom
6.426.575
Of dark myrtle grove: not even in death
6.426.576
Have they forgot their griefs of long ago.
6.426.577
Here impious Phaedra and poor Procris bide;
6.426.578
Lorn Eriphyle bares the vengeful wounds
6.426.579
Her own son's dagger made; Evadne here,
6.426.580
And foul Pasiphae Pasiphaë are seen; hard by,
6.426.581
Laodamia, nobly fond and fair;
6.426.582
And Caeneus, not a boy, but maiden now,
6.426.583
By Fate remoulded to her native seeming.
6.426.584
Here Tyrian Dido, too, her wound unhealed,
6.426.585
Roamed through a mighty wood. The Trojan's eyes
6.426.586
Beheld her near him through the murky gloom,
6.426.587
As when, in her young month and crescent pale,
6.426.588
One sees th' o'er-clouded moon, or thinks he sees.
6.426.589
Down dropped his tears, and thus he fondly spoke:
6.426.590
“0 suffering Dido! Were those tidings true
6.426.591
That thou didst fling thee on the fatal steel?
6.426.592
Thy death, ah me! I dealt it. But I swear
6.426.593
By stars above us, by the powers in Heaven,
6.426.594
Or whatsoever oath ye dead believe,
6.426.595
That not by choice I fled thy shores, 0 Queen!
6.426.596
Divine decrees compelled me, even as now
6.426.597
Among these ghosts I pass, and thread my way
6.426.598
Along this gulf of night and loathsome land.
6.426.599
How could I deem my cruel taking leave
6.426.600
Would bring thee at the last to all this woe?
6.426.601
0, stay! Why shun me? Wherefore haste away?
6.426.602
Our last farewell! Our doom! I speak it now!”
6.426.603
Thus, though she glared with fierce, relentless gaze,
6.426.604
Aaeneas, with fond words and tearful plea,
6.426.605
Would soothe her angry soul. But on the ground
6.426.606
She fixed averted eyes. For all he spoke
6.426.607
Moved her no more than if her frowning brow
6.426.608
Were changeless flint or carved in Parian stone.
6.426.609
Then, after pause, away in wrath she fled,
6.426.610
And refuge took within the cool, dark grove,
6.426.611
Where her first spouse, Sichaeus, with her tears
6.426.612
Mingled his own in mutual love and true.
6.426.613
Aeneas, none the less, her guiltless woe
6.426.614
With anguish knew, watched with dimmed eyes her way,
6.426.615
And pitied from afar the fallen Queen.
6.477.616
But now his destined way he must be gone;
6.477.617
Now the last regions round the travellers lie,
6.477.618
Where famous warriors in the darkness dwell:
6.477.619
Here Tydeus comes in view, with far-renowned
6.477.620
Parthenopaeus and Adrastus pale;
6.477.621
Here mourned in upper air with many a moan,
6.477.622
In battle fallen, the Dardanidae,
6.477.623
Whose long defile Aeneas groans to see:
6.477.624
Glaucus and Medon and Thersilochus,
6.477.625
Antenor's children three, and Ceres' priest,
6.477.626
That Polypoetes, and Idaeus still.
6.477.627
Keeping the kingly chariot and spear.
6.477.628
Around him left and right the crowding shades
6.477.629
Not only once would see, but clutch and cling
6.477.630
Obstructive, asking on what quest he goes.
6.477.631
Soon as the princes of Argolic blood,
6.477.632
With line on line of Agamemnon's men,
6.477.633
Beheld the hero and his glittering arms
6.477.634
Flash through the dark, they trembled with amaze,
6.477.635
Or turned in flight, as if once more they fled
6.477.636
To shelter of the ships; some raised aloft
6.477.637
A feeble shout, or vainly opened wide
6.477.638
Their gaping lips in mockery of sound.
6.494.639
Here Priam's son, with body rent and torn,
6.494.640
Deiphobus Deïphobus is seen,—his mangled face,
6.494.641
His face and bloody hands, his wounded head
6.494.642
Of ears and nostrils infamously shorn.
6.494.643
Scarce could Aeneas know the shuddering shade
6.494.644
That strove to hide its face and shameful scar;
6.494.645
But, speaking first, he said, in their own tongue:
6.494.646
“Deiphobus, strong warrior, nobly born
6.494.647
Of Teucer's royal stem, what ruthless foe
6.494.648
Could wish to wreak on thee this dire revenge?
6.494.649
Who ventured, unopposed, so vast a wrong?
6.494.650
The rumor reached me how, that deadly night,
6.494.651
Wearied with slaying Greeks, thyself didst fall
6.494.652
Prone on a mingled heap of friends and foes.
6.494.653
Then my own hands did for thy honor build
6.494.654
An empty tomb upon the Trojan shore,
6.494.655
And thrice with echoing voice I called thy shade.
6.494.656
Thy name and arms are there. But, 0 my friend,
6.494.657
Thee could I nowhere find, but launched away,
6.494.658
Nor o'er thy bones their native earth could fling.”
6.494.659
To him the son of Priam thus replied:
6.494.660
“Nay, friend, no hallowed rite was left undone,
6.494.661
But every debt to death and pity due
6.494.662
The shades of thy Deiphobus received.
6.494.663
My fate it was, and Helen's murderous wrong,
6.494.664
Wrought me this woe; of her these tokens tell.
6.494.665
For how that last night in false hope we passed,
6.494.666
Thou knowest,—ah, too well we both recall!
6.494.667
When up the steep of Troy the fateful horse
6.494.668
Came climbing, pregnant with fierce men-at-arms,
6.494.669
't was she, accurst, who led the Phrygian dames
6.494.670
In choric dance and false bacchantic song,
6.494.671
And, waving from the midst a lofty brand,
6.494.672
Signalled the Greeks from Ilium's central tower
6.494.673
In that same hour on my sad couch I lay,
6.494.674
Exhausted by long care and sunk in sleep,
6.494.675
That sweet, deep sleep, so close to tranquil death.
6.494.676
But my illustrious bride from all the house
6.494.677
Had stolen all arms; from 'neath my pillowed head
6.494.678
She stealthily bore off my trusty sword;
6.494.679
Then loud on Menelaus did she call,
6.494.680
And with her own false hand unbarred the door;
6.494.681
Such gift to her fond lord she fain would send
6.494.682
To blot the memory of his ancient wrong!
6.494.683
Why tell the tale, how on my couch they broke,
6.494.684
While their accomplice, vile Aeolides,
6.494.685
Counselled to many a crime. 0 heavenly Powers!
6.494.686
Reward these Greeks their deeds of wickedness,
6.494.687
If with clean lips upon your wrath I call!
6.494.688
But, friend, what fortunes have thy life befallen?
6.494.689
Tell point by point. Did waves of wandering seas
6.494.690
Drive thee this way, or some divine command?
6.494.691
What chastisement of fortune thrusts thee on
6.494.692
Toward this forlorn abode of night and cloud?”
6.535.693
While thus they talked, the crimsoned car of Morn
6.535.694
Had wheeled beyond the midmost point of heaven,
6.535.695
On her ethereal road. The princely pair
6.535.696
Had wasted thus the whole brief gift of hours;
6.535.697
But Sibyl spoke the warning: “Night speeds by,
6.535.698
And we, Aeneas, lose it in lamenting.
6.535.699
Here comes the place where cleaves our way in twain.
6.535.700
Thy road, the right, toward Pluto's dwelling goes,
6.535.701
And leads us to Elysium. But the left
6.535.702
Speeds sinful souls to doom, and is their path
6.535.703
To Tartarus th' accurst.” Deiphobus Deïphobus
6.535.704
Cried out: “0 priestess, be not wroth with us!
6.535.705
Back to the ranks with yonder ghosts I go.
6.535.706
0 glory of my race, pass on! Thy lot
6.535.707
Be happier than mine!” He spoke, and fled.
6.548.708
Aeneas straightway by the leftward cliff
6.548.709
Beheld a spreading rampart, high begirt
6.548.710
With triple wall, and circling round it ran
6.548.711
A raging river of swift floods of flame,
6.548.712
Infernal Phlegethon, which whirls along
6.548.713
Loud-thundering rocks. A mighty gate is there
6.548.714
Columned in adamant; no human power,
6.548.715
Nor even the gods, against this gate prevail.
6.548.716
Tall tower of steel it has; and seated there
6.548.717
Tisiphone, in blood-flecked pall arrayed,
6.548.718
Sleepless forever, guards the entering way.
6.548.719
Hence groans are heard, fierce cracks of lash and scourge,
6.548.720
Loud-clanking iron links and trailing chains.
6.548.721
Aeneas motionless with horror stood
6.548.722
o'erwhelmed at such uproar. “0 virgin, say
6.548.723
What shapes of guilt are these? What penal woe
6.548.724
Harries them thus? What wailing smites the air?”
6.548.725
To whom the Sibyl, “Far-famed prince of Troy,
6.548.726
The feet of innocence may never pass
6.548.727
Into this house of sin. But Hecate,
6.548.728
When o'er th' Avernian groves she gave me power,
6.548.729
Taught me what penalties the gods decree,
6.548.730
And showed me all. There Cretan Rhadamanth
6.548.731
His kingdom keeps, and from unpitying throne
6.548.732
Chastises and lays bare the secret sins
6.548.733
Of mortals who, exulting in vain guile,
6.548.734
Elude till death, their expiation due.
6.548.735
There, armed forever with her vengeful scourge,
6.548.736
Tisiphone, with menace and affront,
6.548.737
The guilty swarm pursues; in her left hand
6.548.738
She lifts her angered serpents, while she calls
6.548.739
A troop of sister-furies fierce as she.
6.548.740
Then, grating loud on hinge of sickening sound,
6.548.741
Hell's portals open wide. 0, dost thou see
6.548.742
What sentinel upon that threshold sits,
6.548.743
What shapes of fear keep guard upon that gloom?
6.576.744
Far, far within the dragon Hydra broods
6.576.745
With half a hundred mouths, gaping and black;
6.576.746
And Tartarus slopes downward to the dark
6.576.747
Twice the whole space that in the realms of light
6.576.748
Th' Olympian heaven above our earth aspires. —
6.576.749
Here Earth's first offspring, the Titanic brood,
6.576.750
Roll lightning-blasted in the gulf profound;
6.576.751
The twin Aloidae Aloïdae , colossal shades,
6.576.752
Came on my view; their hands made stroke at Heaven
6.576.753
And strove to thrust Jove from his seat on high.
6.576.754
I saw Salmoneus his dread stripes endure,
6.576.755
Who dared to counterfeit Olympian thunder
6.576.756
And Jove's own fire. In chariot of four steeds,
6.576.757
Brandishing torches, he triumphant rode
6.576.758
Through throngs of Greeks, o'er Elis' sacred way,
6.576.759
Demanding worship as a god. 0 fool!
6.576.760
To mock the storm's inimitable flash—
6.576.761
With crash of hoofs and roll of brazen wheel!
6.576.762
But mightiest Jove from rampart of thick cloud
6.576.763
Hurled his own shaft, no flickering, mortal flame,
6.576.764
And in vast whirl of tempest laid him low.
6.576.765
Next unto these, on Tityos I looked,
6.576.766
Child of old Earth, whose womb all creatures bears:
6.576.767
Stretched o'er nine roods he lies; a vulture huge
6.576.768
Tears with hooked beak at his immortal side,
6.576.769
Or deep in entrails ever rife with pain
6.576.770
Gropes for a feast, making his haunt and home
6.576.771
In the great Titan bosom; nor will give
6.576.772
To ever new-born flesh surcease of woe.
6.576.773
Why name Ixion and Pirithous,
6.576.774
The Lapithae, above whose impious brows
6.576.775
A crag of flint hangs quaking to its fall,
6.576.776
As if just toppling down, while couches proud,
6.576.777
Propped upon golden pillars, bid them feast
6.576.778
In royal glory: but beside them lies
6.576.779
The eldest of the Furies, whose dread hands
6.576.780
Thrust from the feast away, and wave aloft
6.576.781
A flashing firebrand, with shrieks of woe.
6.576.782
Here in a prison-house awaiting doom
6.576.783
Are men who hated, long as life endured,
6.576.784
Their brothers, or maltreated their gray sires,
6.576.785
Or tricked a humble friend; the men who grasped
6.576.786
At hoarded riches, with their kith and kin
6.576.787
Not sharing ever—an unnumbered throng;
6.576.788
Here slain adulterers be; and men who dared
6.576.789
To fight in unjust cause, and break all faith
6.576.790
With their own lawful lords. Seek not to know
6.576.791
What forms of woe they feel, what fateful shape
6.576.792
Of retribution hath o'erwhelmed them there.
6.576.793
Some roll huge boulders up; some hang on wheels,
6.576.794
Lashed to the whirling spokes; in his sad seat
6.576.795
Theseus is sitting, nevermore to rise;
6.576.796
Unhappy Phlegyas uplifts his voice
6.576.797
In warning through the darkness, calling loud,
6.576.798
‘0, ere too late, learn justice and fear God!’
6.576.799
Yon traitor sold his country, and for gold
6.576.800
Enchained her to a tyrant, trafficking
6.576.801
In laws, for bribes enacted or made void;
6.576.802
Another did incestuously take
6.576.803
His daughter for a wife in lawless bonds.
6.576.804
All ventured some unclean, prodigious crime;
6.576.805
And what they dared, achieved. I could not tell,
6.576.806
Not with a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
6.576.807
Or iron voice, their divers shapes of sin,
6.576.808
Nor call by name the myriad pangs they bear.”
6.628.809
So spake Apollo's aged prophetess.
6.628.810
“Now up and on!” she cried. “Thy task fulfil!
6.628.811
We must make speed. Behold yon arching doors
6.628.812
Yon walls in furnace of the Cyclops forged!
6.628.813
'T is there we are commanded to lay down
6.628.814
Th' appointed offering.” So, side by side,
6.628.815
Swift through the intervening dark they strode,
6.628.816
And, drawing near the portal-arch, made pause.
6.628.817
Aeneas, taking station at the door,
6.628.818
Pure, lustral waters o'er his body threw,
6.628.819
And hung for garland there the Golden Bough.
6.637.820
Now, every rite fulfilled, and tribute due
6.637.821
Paid to the sovereign power of Proserpine,
6.637.822
At last within a land delectable
6.637.823
Their journey lay, through pleasurable bowers
6.637.824
Of groves where all is joy,—a blest abode!
6.637.825
An ampler sky its roseate light bestows
6.637.826
On that bright land, which sees the cloudless beam
6.637.827
Of suns and planets to our earth unknown.
6.637.828
On smooth green lawns, contending limb with limb,
6.637.829
Immortal athletes play, and wrestle long
6.637.830
'gainst mate or rival on the tawny sand;
6.637.831
With sounding footsteps and ecstatic song,
6.637.832
Some thread the dance divine: among them moves
6.637.833
The bard of Thrace, in flowing vesture clad,
6.637.834
Discoursing seven-noted melody,
6.637.835
Who sweeps the numbered strings with changeful hand,
6.637.836
Or smites with ivory point his golden lyre.
6.637.837
Here Trojans be of eldest, noblest race,
6.637.838
Great-hearted heroes, born in happier times,
6.637.839
Ilus, Assaracus, and Dardanus,
6.637.840
Illustrious builders of the Trojan town.
6.637.841
Their arms and shadowy chariots he views,
6.637.842
And lances fixed in earth, while through the fields
6.637.843
Their steeds without a bridle graze at will.
6.637.844
For if in life their darling passion ran
6.637.845
To chariots, arms, or glossy-coated steeds,
6.637.846
The self-same joy, though in their graves, they feel.
6.637.847
Lo! on the left and right at feast reclined
6.637.848
Are other blessed souls, whose chorus sings
6.637.849
Victorious paeans on the fragrant air
6.637.850
Of laurel groves; and hence to earth outpours
6.637.851
Eridanus, through forests rolling free.
6.637.852
Here dwell the brave who for their native land
6.637.853
Fell wounded on the field; here holy priests
6.637.854
Who kept them undefiled their mortal day;
6.637.855
And poets, of whom the true-inspired song
6.637.856
Deserved Apollo's name; and all who found
6.637.857
New arts, to make man's life more blest or fair;
6.637.858
Yea! here dwell all those dead whose deeds bequeath
6.637.859
Deserved and grateful memory to their kind.
6.637.860
And each bright brow a snow-white fillet wears.
6.637.861
Unto this host the Sibyl turned, and hailed
6.637.862
Musaeus, midmost of a numerous throng,
6.637.863
Who towered o'er his peers a shoulder higher:
6.637.864
“0 spirits blest! 0 venerable bard!
6.637.865
Declare what dwelling or what region holds
6.637.866
Anchises, for whose sake we twain essayed
6.637.867
Yon passage over the wide streams of hell.”
6.637.868
And briefly thus the hero made reply:
6.637.869
“No fixed abode is ours. In shadowy groves
6.637.870
We make our home, or meadows fresh and fair,
6.637.871
With streams whose flowery banks our couches be.
6.637.872
But you, if thitherward your wishes turn,
6.637.873
Climb yonder hill, where I your path may show.”
6.637.874
So saying, he strode forth and led them on,
6.637.875
Till from that vantage they had prospect fair
6.637.876
Of a wide, shining land; thence wending down,
6.637.877
They left the height they trod;for far below
6.637.878
Father Anchises in a pleasant vale
6.637.879
Stood pondering, while his eyes and thought surveyed
6.637.880
A host of prisoned spirits, who there abode
6.637.881
Awaiting entrance to terrestrial air.
6.637.882
And musing he reviewed the legions bright
6.637.883
Of his own progeny and offspring proud—
6.637.884
Their fates and fortunes, virtues and great deeds.
6.637.885
Soon he discerned Aeneas drawing nigh
6.637.886
o'er the green slope, and, lifting both his hands
6.637.887
In eager welcome, spread them swiftly forth.
6.637.888
Tears from his eyelids rained, and thus he spoke:
6.637.889
“Art here at last? Hath thy well-proven love
6.637.890
Of me thy sire achieved yon arduous way?
6.637.891
Will Heaven, beloved son, once more allow
6.637.892
That eye to eye we look? and shall I hear
6.637.893
Thy kindred accent mingling with my own?
6.637.894
I cherished long this hope. My prophet-soul
6.637.895
Numbered the lapse of days, nor did my thought
6.637.896
Deceive. 0, o'er what lands and seas wast driven
6.637.897
To this embrace! What perils manifold
6.637.898
Assailed thee, 0 my son, on every side!
6.637.899
How long I trembled, lest that Libyan throne
6.637.900
Should work thee woe!”
6.637.901
Aeneas thus replied:
6.637.902
“Thine image, sire, thy melancholy shade,
6.637.903
Came oft upon my vision, and impelled
6.637.904
My journey hitherward. Our fleet of ships
6.637.905
Lies safe at anchor in the Tuscan seas.
6.637.906
Come, clasp my hand! Come, father, I implore,
6.637.907
And heart to heart this fond embrace receive!”
6.637.908
So speaking, all his eyes suffused with tears;
6.637.909
Thrice would his arms in vain that shape enfold.
6.637.910
Thrice from the touch of hand the vision fled,
6.637.911
Like wafted winds or likest hovering dreams.
6.703.912
After these things Aeneas was aware
6.703.913
Of solemn groves in one deep, distant vale,
6.703.914
Where trees were whispering, and forever flowed
6.703.915
The river Lethe, through its land of calm.
6.703.916
Nations unnumbered roved and haunted there:
6.703.917
As when, upon a windless summer morn,
6.703.918
The bees afield among the rainbow flowers
6.703.919
Alight and sip, or round the lilies pure
6.703.920
Pour forth in busy swarm, while far diffused
6.703.921
Their murmured songs from all the meadows rise.
6.703.922
Aeneas in amaze the wonder views,
6.703.923
And fearfully inquires of whence and why;
6.703.924
What yonder rivers be; what people press,
6.703.925
Line after line, on those dim shores along.
6.703.926
Said Sire Anchises: “Yonder thronging souls
6.703.927
To reincarnate shape predestined move.
6.703.928
Here, at the river Lethe's wave, they quaff
6.703.929
Care-quelling floods, and long oblivion.
6.703.930
Of these I shall discourse, and to thy soul
6.703.931
Make visible the number and array
6.703.932
Of my posterity; so shall thy heart
6.703.933
In Italy, thy new-found home, rejoice.”
6.703.934
“0 father,” said Aeneas, “must I deem
6.703.935
That from this region souls exalted rise
6.703.936
To upper air, and shall once more return
6.703.937
To cumbering flesh? 0, wherefore do they feel,
6.703.938
Unhappy ones, such fatal lust to live?”
6.703.939
“I speak, my son, nor make thee longer doubt,”
6.703.940
Anchises said, and thus the truth set forth,
6.703.941
In ordered words from point to point unfolding:
6.724.942
“Know first that heaven and earth and ocean's plain,
6.724.943
The moon's bright orb, and stars of Titan birth
6.724.944
Are nourished by one Life; one primal Mind,
6.724.945
Immingled with the vast and general frame,
6.724.946
Fills every part and stirs the mighty whole.
6.724.947
Thence man and beast, thence creatures of the air,
6.724.948
And all the swarming monsters that be found
6.724.949
Beneath the level of the marbled sea;
6.724.950
A fiery virtue, a celestial power,
6.724.951
Their native seeds retain; but bodies vile,
6.724.952
With limbs of clay and members born to die,
6.724.953
Encumber and o'ercloud; whence also spring
6.724.954
Terrors and passions, suffering and joy;
6.724.955
For from deep darkness and captivity
6.724.956
All gaze but blindly on the radiant world.
6.724.957
Nor when to life's last beam they bid farewell
6.724.958
May sufferers cease from pain, nor quite be freed
6.724.959
From all their fleshly plagues; but by fixed law,
6.724.960
The strange, inveterate taint works deeply in.
6.724.961
For this, the chastisement of evils past
6.724.962
Is suffered here, and full requital paid.
6.724.963
Some hang on high, outstretched to viewless winds;
6.724.964
For some their sin's contagion must be purged
6.724.965
In vast ablution of deep-rolling seas,
6.724.966
Or burned away in fire. Each man receives
6.724.967
His ghostly portion in the world of dark;
6.724.968
But thence to realms Elysian we go free,
6.724.969
Where for a few these seats of bliss abide,
6.724.970
Till time's long lapse a perfect orb fulfils,
6.724.971
And takes all taint away, restoring so
6.724.972
The pure, ethereal soul's first virgin fire.
6.724.973
At last, when the millennial aeon strikes,
6.724.974
God calls them forth to yon Lethaean stream,
6.724.975
In numerous host, that thence, oblivious all,
6.724.976
They may behold once more the vaulted sky,
6.724.977
And willingly to shapes of flesh return.”
6.752.978
So spoke Anchises; then led forth his son,
6.752.979
The Sibyl with him, to the assembled shades
6.752.980
(A voiceful throng), and on a lofty mound
6.752.981
His station took, whence plainly could be seen
6.752.982
The long procession, and each face descried.
6.756.983
“Hark now! for of the glories I will tell
6.756.984
That wait our Dardan blood; of our sons' sons
6.756.985
Begot upon the old Italian breed,
6.756.986
Who shall be mighty spirits, and prolong
6.756.987
Our names, their heritage. I will unfold
6.756.988
The story, and reveal the destined years.
6.756.989
Yon princeling, thou beholdest leaning there
6.756.990
Upon a royal lance, shall next emerge
6.756.991
Into the realms of day. He is the first
6.756.992
Of half-Italian strain, the last-born heir
6.756.993
To thine old age by fair Lavinia given,
6.756.994
Called Silvius, a royal Alban name
6.756.995
(Of sylvan birth and sylvan nurture he),
6.756.996
A king himself and sire of kings to come,
6.756.997
By whom our race in Alba Longa reign.
6.756.998
Next Procas stands, our Trojan people's boast;
6.756.999
Capys and Numitor, and, named like thee,
6.756.1000
Aeneas Sylvius, like thee renowned
6.756.1001
For faithful honor and for deeds of war,
6.756.1002
When he ascends at last his Alban throne.
6.756.1003
Behold what warrior youth they be! How strong
6.756.1004
Their goodly limbs! Above their shaded brows
6.756.1005
The civic oak they wear! For thee they build
6.756.1006
Nomentum, and the walls of Gabii,
6.756.1007
Fidena too, and on the mountains pile
6.756.1008
Collatia's citadels, Pometii,
6.756.1009
Bola and Cora, Castrum-Inui—
6.756.1010
Such be the names the nameless lands shall bear.
6.756.1011
See, in that line of sires the son of Mars,
6.756.1012
Great Romulus, of Ilian mother born,
6.756.1013
From far-descended line of Trojan kings!
6.756.1014
See from his helm the double crest uprear,
6.756.1015
While his celestial father in his mien
6.756.1016
Shows forth his birth divine! Of him, my son,
6.756.1017
Great Rome shall rise, and, favored of his star,
6.756.1018
Have power world-wide, and men of godlike mind.
6.756.1019
She clasps her seven hills in single wall,
6.756.1020
Proud mother of the brave! So Cybele,
6.756.1021
The Berecynthian goddess, castle-crowned,
6.756.1022
On through the Phrygian kingdoms speeds her car,
6.756.1023
Exulting in her hundred sons divine,
6.756.1024
All numbered with the gods, all throned on high.
6.756.1025
“Let now thy visionary glance look long
6.756.1026
On this thy race, these Romans that be thine.
6.756.1027
Here Caesar, of Iulus' glorious seed,
6.756.1028
Behold ascending to the world of light!
6.756.1029
Behold, at last, that man, for this is he,
6.756.1030
So oft unto thy listening ears foretold,
6.756.1031
Augustus Caesar, kindred unto Jove.
6.756.1032
He brings a golden age; he shall restore
6.756.1033
Old Saturn's sceptre to our Latin land,
6.756.1034
And o'er remotest Garamant and Ind
6.756.1035
His sway extend; the fair dominion
6.756.1036
outruns th' horizon planets, yea, beyond
6.756.1037
The sun's bright path, where Atlas' shoulder bears
6.756.1038
Yon dome of heaven set thick with burning stars.
6.756.1039
Against his coming the far Caspian shores
6.756.1040
Break forth in oracles; the Maeotian land
6.756.1041
Trembles, and all the seven-fold mouths of Nile.
6.801.1042
Not o'er domain so wide Alcides passed,
6.801.1043
Although the brazen-footed doe he slew
6.801.1044
And stilled the groves of Erymanth, and bade
6.801.1045
The beast of Lerna at his arrows quail.
6.801.1046
Nor half so far triumphant Baechus drove,
6.801.1047
With vine-entwisted reins, his frolic team
6.801.1048
Of tigers from the tall-topped Indian hill.
6.801.1049
“Still do we doubt if heroes' deeds can fill
6.801.1050
A realm so wide? Shall craven fear constrain
6.801.1051
Thee or thy people from Ausonia's shore?
6.801.1052
Look, who is he I may discern from far
6.801.1053
By olive-branch and holy emblems known?
6.801.1054
His flowing locks and hoary beard, behold!
6.801.1055
Fit for a Roman king! By hallowed laws
6.801.1056
He shall found Rome anew—from mean estate
6.801.1057
In lowly Cures led to mightier sway.
6.801.1058
But after him arises one whose reign
6.801.1059
Shall wake the land from slumber: Tullus then
6.801.1060
Shall stir slack chiefs to battle, rallying
6.801.1061
His hosts which had forgot what triumphs be.
6.801.1062
Him boastful Ancus follows hard upon,
6.801.1063
o'erflushed with his light people's windy praise.
6.801.1064
Wilt thou see Tarquins now? And haughty hand
6.801.1065
Of vengeful Brutus seize the signs of power?
6.801.1066
He first the consul's name shall take; he first
6.801.1067
Th' inexorable fasces sternly bear.
6.801.1068
When his own sons in rash rebellion join,
6.801.1069
The father and the judge shall sentence give
6.801.1070
In beauteous freedom's cause—unhappy he!
6.801.1071
Howe'er the age to come the story tell,
6.801.1072
't will bless such love of honor and of Rome.
6.801.1073
See Decius, sire and son, the Drusi, see!
6.801.1074
Behold Torquatus with his axe! Look where
6.801.1075
Camillus brings the Gallic standards home!
6.801.1076
“But who are these in glorious armor clad
6.801.1077
And equal power? In this dark world of cloud
6.801.1078
Their souls in concord move;—but woe is me!
6.801.1079
What duel 'twixt them breaks, when by and by
6.801.1080
The light of life is theirs, and forth they call
6.801.1081
Their long-embattled lines to carnage dire!
6.801.1082
Allied by nuptial truce, the sire descends
6.801.1083
From Alpine rampart and that castled cliff,
6.801.1084
Monoecus by the sea; the son arrays
6.801.1085
His hostile legions in the lands of morn.
6.801.1086
Forbear, my children! School not your great souls
6.801.1087
In such vast wars, nor turn your giant strength
6.801.1088
Against the bowels of your native land!
6.801.1089
But be thou first, 0 first in mercy! thou
6.801.1090
Who art of birth Olympian! Fling away
6.801.1091
Thy glorious sword, mine offspring and mine heir!
6.801.1092
“Yonder is one whose chariot shall ascend
6.801.1093
The laurelled Capitolian steep; he rides
6.801.1094
In glory o'er Achaea's hosts laid low,
6.801.1095
And Corinth overthrown. There, too, is he
6.801.1096
Who shall uproot proud Argos and the towers
6.801.1097
Of Agamemnon; vanquishing the heir
6.801.1098
Even of Aeacus, the warrior seed
6.801.1099
Of Peleus' son; such vengeance shall be wrought
6.801.1100
For Troy's slain sires, and violated shrines!
6.801.1101
“Or who could fail great Cato's name to tell?
6.801.1102
Or, Cossus, thine? or in oblivion leave
6.801.1103
The sons of Gracchus? or the Scipios,
6.801.1104
Twin thunderbolts of war, and Libya's bane?
6.801.1105
Or, more than kingly in his mean abode,
6.801.1106
Fabricius? or Serranus at the plough?
6.801.1107
Ye Fabii, how far would ye prolong
6.801.1108
My weary praise? But see! 'T is Maximus,
6.801.1109
Who by wise waiting saves his native land.
6.801.1110
“Let others melt and mould the breathing bronze
6.801.1111
To forms more fair,—aye! out of marble bring
6.801.1112
Features that live; let them plead causes well;
6.801.1113
Or trace with pointed wand the cycled heaven,
6.801.1114
And hail the constellations as they rise;
6.801.1115
But thou, 0 Roman, learn with sovereign sway
6.801.1116
To rule the nations. Thy great art shall be
6.801.1117
To keep the world in lasting peace, to spare
6.801.1118
humbled foe, and crush to earth the proud.”
6.854.1119
So did Anchises speak, then, after pause,
6.854.1120
Thus to their wondering ears his word prolonged:
6.854.1121
“Behold Marcellus, bright with glorious spoil,
6.854.1122
In lifted triumph through his warriors move!
6.854.1123
The Roman power in tumultuous days
6.854.1124
He shall establish; he rides forth to quell
6.854.1125
Afric and rebel Gaul; and to the shrine
6.854.1126
Of Romulus the third-won trophy brings.”
6.854.1127
Then spoke Aeneas, for he now could see
6.854.1128
A beauteous youth in glittering dress of war,
6.854.1129
Though of sad forehead and down-dropping eyes:
6.854.1130
“Say, father, who attends the prince? a son?
6.854.1131
Or of his greatness some remoter heir?
6.854.1132
How his friends praise him, and how matchless he!
6.854.1133
But mournful night Tests darkly o'er his brow.”
6.854.1134
With brimming eyes Anchises answer gave:
6.854.1135
“Ask not, 0 son, what heavy weight of woe
6.854.1136
Thy race shall bear, when fate shall just reveal
6.854.1137
This vision to the world, then yield no more.
6.854.1138
0 gods above, too glorious did ye deem
6.854.1139
The seed of Rome, had this one gift been sure?
6.854.1140
The lamentation of a multitude
6.854.1141
Arises from the field of Mars, and strikes
6.854.1142
The city's heart. 0 Father Tiber, see
6.854.1143
What pomp of sorrow near the new-made tomb
6.854.1144
Beside thy fleeting stream! What Ilian youth
6.854.1145
Shall e'er his Latin kindred so advance
6.854.1146
In hope of glory? When shall the proud land
6.854.1147
Of Romulus of such a nursling boast?
6.854.1148
Ah, woe' is me! 0 loyal heart and true!
6.854.1149
0 brave, right arm invincible! What foe
6.854.1150
Had 'scaped his onset in the shock of arms,
6.854.1151
Whether on foot he strode, or if he spurred
6.854.1152
The hot flanks of his war-horse flecked with foam?
6.854.1153
0 lost, lamented child! If thou evade
6.854.1154
Thy evil star, Marcellus thou shalt be.
6.854.1155
0 bring me lilies! Bring with liberal hand!
6.854.1156
Sad purple blossoms let me throw—the shade
6.854.1157
Of my own kin to honor, heaping high
6.854.1158
My gifts upon his grave! So let me pay
6.854.1159
An unavailing vow!”
6.854.1160
Then, far and wide
6.854.1161
Through spacious fields of air, they wander free,
6.854.1162
Witnessing all; Anchises guides his son
6.854.1163
From point to point, and quickens in his mind
6.854.1164
Hunger for future fame. Of wars he tells
6.854.1165
Soon imminent; of fair Laurentum's tribes;
6.854.1166
Of King Latinus' town; and shows what way
6.854.1167
Each task and hardship to prevent, or bear.
6.893.1168
Now Sleep has portals twain, whereof the one
6.893.1169
Is horn, they say, and easy exit gives
6.893.1170
To visions true; the other, gleaming white
6.893.1171
With polished ivory, the.dead employ
6.893.1172
To people night with unsubstantial dreams.
6.893.1173
Here now Anchises bids his son farewell;
6.893.1174
And with Sibylla, his companion sage,
6.893.1175
Up through that ivory portal lets him rise.
6.893.1176
Back to his fleet and his dear comrades all
6.893.1177
6.893.1177
Aeneas hastes.Then hold they their straight course
6.893.1178
Into Caieta's bay. An anchor holds
6.893.1179
Each lofty prow; the sterns stand firm on shore.