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Then, thankless for a life redeem'd by shame, With sense of honor stung, and forfeit fame, Fearful besides of what in fight had pass'd,
His hands and haggard eyes to heav'n he cast; "0 Jove I" he cried, "for what offense have I
? _JO DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGI_ I)cserv'd to bear this endless infamy ?
Whence am I forc'd, and whether am I borne? How, and with what reproach, shall I return?
Shall ever I behold the Latian plain,
Or see Laurentum's lofty tow'rs again?
What will they say of their deserting chief?
The war was mine: I fly from their relief;
I led to slaughter, and in slaughter leave;
And ev'n from hence their dying groans receive. Here, overmatch'd in fight, in heaps they lie; There, scatter'd o'er the fields, ignobly fly.
Gape wide, O earth, and draw me down alive I Or, O ye pitying winds, a wretch relievel
On sands or shelves the sphtting vessel drive
Or set me shlpwrack'd on some desart shore, Where no Rutuhan eyes may see me more, Unknown to friends, or foes, or conscious Fame, Lest she should follow, and my flight proclaim. "
Thus Turnus rav'd, and various fates revolv'd: The choice was doubtful, but the death resolv'd.
And now the sword, and now the sea took place, That to revenge, and this to purge disgrace. Sometimes he thought to swim the stormy main, By stretch of arms the dlstant shore to gain. Thrice he the sword assay'd, and thrice the flood; But Juno t mov'd with plty, both withstood.
And thrice repress'd his rage; strong gales supplied, And push'd the vessel o'er the swelling tide.
At length she lands him on his natlve shores,
And to his father's longing arms restores
Meantime, by Jove's impulse, Mezentius arm'd, Succeeding Turnus, with his ardor warm'd
His fainting friends, reproach'd their shameful Repel1'd the wctors, and renew'd the fight. Against their king the Tuscan troops conspire; Such is their hate, and such their fierce desire Of wish'd revenge: on him, and him alone,
flight,
All hands employ'd, and all their darts are thrown. He, like a solid rock by seas inclos'd,
To raging winds and roaring waves oppos'd,
? THE TENTH BOOK OF THE rENEIS 3_1
From his proud summit looking down, disdains Their empty menace, and unmov'd remains.
Beneath his feet fell haughty Hebrus dead, Then Latagus, and Palmus as he fleck
At Latagus a weighty stone he flung:
His face was flatted, and his helmet rung.
But Palmus from behind receives his wound; Hamstring'd he falls, and grovels on the ground: H_s crest and armor, from his body torn,
Thy shoulders, Lausus, and thy head adorn. Evas and Mimas, both of Troy, he slew. ,Mimas his birth from fair Theano drew, :Born on that fatal night, when, big with fire, The queen produc'd young Paris to his sire: But Paris in the Phrygian fields was slain, Unthinking Mxmas on the Latian plain.
And, as a savage boar, on mountains bred, With forest mast and fatt'nmg marshes fed,
When once he sees himself in toils inclos'd,
By huntsmen and their eager hounds oppos'd_
He whets his tusks, and turns, and dares the war; Th' invaders dart their jav'lins from afar:
All keep aloof, and safely shout around;
But none presumes to give a nearer mound:
He frets and froths, erects his bristled hide, And shakes a grove of lances from his side: Not otherwise the troops, wxth hate msplr'd, And just revenge against the tyrant fir'd, Their darts with clamor at a d_stance drive, And only keep the languish'd war alive.
From Contus came Acron to the fight,
Who left his spouse betroth'd, and unconsummate night
Mezentius sees him thro' the squadrons ride, Proud of the purple favors of his bride.
Then, as a hungry lion, who beholds
A gamesome goat, who frisks about the folds, Or beamy stag, that grazes on the plain--
He runs, he roars, he shakes his rising mane, I-Ie grins, and opens wide his greedy jaws;
The prey lies pantmg underneath his paws :
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$52 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
He fills his famlsh'd maw, his mouth runs o'er With unchew'd morsels, while he churns the gore:
So proud Mezentms rushes on his foes, And first unhappy Aeron overthrows"
Stretch'd at his length, he spurns the swarthy ground;
The lance, besmear'd with blood, hes broken m the wound. Then with disdain the haughty victor view'd
Orodes flying, nor the wretch pursued.
Nor thought the dastard's back descrv'd a wound,
But, running, gain'd th' advantage of the ground:
Then turning short, he met him face to face,
To givc his victory the better grace.
Orodes falls, in equal fight oppress'd:
Mezentius fix'd his foot upon h_s breast,
And restcd lance; and thus aloud lie cries:
"'Lo ! here the champion of my rebels hes T"
The fields around with Io PwmI! ring',
And peals of shouts applaud the conqu'rmg king.
At this tile vanquish'd, with his dying breath,
Thus faintly spoke, and prohesied in death"
"Nor thou, proud nian, unpunish'd shall remain:
Like death attends thee on this fatal plato. "
Then, sourly smihng, thus the king replied:
"For what belongs to me, let Jove provide;
But die thou first, whatever chance ensue. "
He said, and from the wound the weapon drew.
A hov'rmg mist came swimming o'er his sight,
And seal'd his eyes in everlasting night.
By Ciedicus, Alcathous was slam;
Sacrator laid Hydaspes on the plain;
Orses the strong to greatcr strength must yield; He, wlth Parthenius, were by Rapo kill'd.
Then brave Messapus Ericetes slew,
Who from Lycaon's blood his lineage drew
But from his headstrong horse his fate hc found, Who threw his master, as tie made a bound:
The chief, alighting, stuck him to the ground; Then Clonius, hand to hand, on foot assails: The Trojan sinks, and Neptune's son prevails. Agis the Lycian, stepping forth w_fll pr_de,
? THE TENTH BOOK OF THE _/qEIS
To single fight the boldest foe defied; Whom Tuscan Valerus by force o'ercame.
And not belied his mighty father's fame.
Salius to death the great Antronius sent:
But the same fate the victor underwent,
Slain by Nealces' hand, well-skill'd to throw
The flying dart, and draw the far-deceiving bow.
Thus equal deaths are dealt with equal chance, By turns they quit their ground, by turns advance:
Victors and vanquish'd, in the various field, Nor wholly overcome, nor wholly yield.
The gods from heav'n survey the fatal strife, And mourn the miseries of human life
Above the rest, two goddesses appear Concern'd for each: here Venus, Juno there. Amidst the crowd, infernal Ate shakes
Her scourge aloft, and crest of hissing snakes.
Once more the proud Mezentius, with d_sdain, Brandish'd his spear, and rush'd into the plain, Where tow'ring in the m_dmost rank she stood, Like tall Orlon stalking o'er the flood.
(When with his brawny breast he cuts the waves, His shoulders scarce the topmost billow laves),
Or like a mountain ash, whose roots are spread, Deep fix'd in earth; in clouds he hides his head
The Trojan prince beheld him from afar, And dauntless undertook the doubtful ware
Collected in his strength, and like a rock,
Pois'd on his base, Mezentius stood the shock
He stood, and, measuring first with careful eyes
The space his spear could reach, aloud he cries:
"My strong right hand, and sword, assist my stroke l (Those only gods Mezentius will invoke. )
His armor, from the Trojan pirate torn,
By my triumphant Lausus shall be worn. "
He said; and with his utmost force he threw
The massy spear, which, hissing as it flew,
Reaeh'd the celestial shield, that stopp'd the course_ But, glancing thence, the yet unbroken force
Took a new bent obhquely, and betwixt
? ? _4 DRYDEI_S TRANSLATION' OF VIRGIL The side and bowels fam'd Anthores fix'&
Anthores had from Argos travel'd far, Alcides' friend, and brother of the war;
Till, tir'd with toils, fair Italy he chose, And in Evander's palace sought repose. Now, falling by another's wound, his eyes He cast to heav'n, on Argos thinks, and dies.
The pious Trojan then his jav'hn sent;
"The shield gave way; thro' treble plates it went
Of solid brass, of linen trebly roll'd,
And three bull hides which round the buckler fol&
All these it pass'd, resistless in the course, Transpierc'd his thigh, and spent its dying force. The gaping wound gush'd out a crimson flood. The Trojan, glad with sight of hostile blood, His faunchion drew, to closer fight address'd, And with new force his fainting foe oppress'd.
His father's peril Lausus view'd with grief; He sigh'd, he wept, he ran to his relief.
And here, heroic youth, 't is here I must
To thy immortal memory be just,
And sing an act so noble and so new,
Posterity will scarce believe 't is true.
Pain'd with his wound, and useless for the fight, The father sought to save himself by flight. Incumber'd, slow he dragg'd the spear along, Which pierc'd his thigh, and in his buck_or hung. The pious youth, resolv'd on death, below
The lifted sword springs forth to face the foe; Protects his parent, and prevents the blow.
Shouts of applause ran ringing thro' the field,
To see the son the vanquish'd father shield.
All, fir'd with gen'rous indignation, strive,
And with a storm of darts to distance drive
The Trojan chief, who, held at bay from far,
On his Vulcanian orb sustaln'd the war.
As, when thick hail comes rattling in the wind, The plowman, passenger, and lab'ring hind
For shelter to the neighb'ring covert fly,
Or hous'd, or safe in hollow caverns lie;
? THE TENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS 35S
But, that o'erblown, when heav'n above 'era smiles, Return to travel, and renew their toils:
. _neas thus, o'erwhelmed on ev'ry stde,
The storm of darts, undaunted, did abide;
And thus to Lausus loud with fmendly threat'nmg crted: "Why wilt thou rush to certain death, and rage
In rash attempts, beyond thy tender age,
Betray'd by plous love? " Nor, thus forborne,
The youth deststs, but with insulting scorn
Provokes the hng'rmg prince, whose pauence, t_r'd,
Gave place; and all his breast with fury fir'd. For now the Fates prepar'd their sharpen'd shears;
And lifted high the flaming sword appears,
Which, full descending w_th a frightful sway,
Thro' shield and corslet forc'd th' impetuous way, And buried deep m his fair bosom lay.
The purple streams thro' the thin armor strove, And drench'd th' imbroider'd coat his mother wove; And life at length forsook his heaving heart,
Loth from so sweet a mansion to depart
But when, with blood and paleness all o'ersptead, The pious prince beheld young Lausus dead,
He griev'd; he wept; the sight an image brought Of his own filial love, a sadly pleasing thought: Then stretch'd his hand to hold him up, and said: "Poor hapless youth I what praises can be paid
To love so great, to such transcendent store Of early worth, and sure presage of more? Accept whate'er . _Eneas can afford; Untouch'd thy arms, untaken be thy sword; And all that pleas'd thee living, still remain Inviolate, and sacred to the slam.
Thy body on thy parents I bestow,
To rest thy soul, at least, if shadows know,
Or have a sense of human things below.
There to thy fellow ghosts with glory tell"
? 'T was by the great . ,Eneas' hand I fell. '"
With this, his distant friends he beckons near, Provokes their duty, and prevents their fear: Himself assists to lift him from the ground,
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
With clotted locks, and blood that weU'd from out the wounct Meantime, his father, now no father, stood,
And wash'd his wounds by Tlber's yellow flood: Oppress'd with anguish, panting, and o'erspent, His fainting limbs against an oak he leant.
A bough his brazen helmet did sustain;
His heavier arms lay scatter'd on the plain: A chosen train of youth around him stand; His drooping head was rested on his hand: His grisly beard his pensive bosom sought; And all on Lattsus ran his restless thought. Careful, concern'd his danger to prevent,
He m_ch enquir'd, and many a message sent To warn him from the field--alas! in vain t
Behold, his mournful followers bear him slain!
O'er his broad shield still gush'd the yawning wound And drew a bloody trail along the ground.
Far off he heard their cries, far off divin'd
The dire event, with a foreboding mind.
With dust he sprinkled first his hoary head;
Then both his lifted hands to heav'n he spread;
Last, the dear corpse embracing, thus he said:
"What joys, alas l could this frail being give,
That I have been so covetous to live ?
To see my son, and such a son, resign
His life, a ransom for preserving mine!
And am I then preserv'd, and art thou lost?
How much too dear has that redemption cost ! 'T is now my bitter banishment I feel:
This is a wound too deep for time to heal.
My guilt thy growing virtues did defame ;
My blackness blotted thy unblemish'd name. Chas'd from a throne, abandon'd, and exil'd For foul misdeeds, were punishments too mild: I ow'd my people these, and, from their hate,
With less resentment could have borne my fate. _nd yet I live, and yet sustain the sight
Of hated men, and of more hated light:
But will not long. " With that he rais'd from ground His fainting limbs, that stagger'd with his wound;
? THE TENTH BOOK OF THE . _NEIS 357
Yet, with a mind resolv'd, and unappaU'd
With pains or perils, for his courser call'd; Well-mouth'd, well-manag'd, whom himself did dress With dally care, and mounted with success;
His aid xn arms, his ornament in peace.
Soothing his courage with a gentle stroke, The steed seem'd sensible, while thus he spoke:
"0 Rhcebus, we have liv'd too long for me--
If life and long were terms that could agree I
This day thou either shalt bring back the head
And bloody trophies of the Trojan dead;
This day thou either shalt revenge my woe,
For murther'd Lausus, on his cruel foe;
Or, if inexorable fate deny
Our conquest, with thy conquer'd master die:
For, after such a lord, I rest secure,
Thou wilt no foreign reins, or Trojan load endure " He said; and straight th' officious courser kneeIs,
To take his wonted weight. His hands he fills
With pointed jav'lins; on his head he lac'd
His glitt'ring helm, which terribly was grac'd
With waving horsehair, nodding from afar;
Then spurr'd his thund'rmg steed amidst the war. Love, anguish, wrath, and grief, to madness wrought, Despair, and secret shame, and conscious thought
Of inborn worth, his lab'ring soul oppress'd,
Roll'd in his eyes, and rag'd within his breast
Then loud he call'd . _neas thrice by name:
The loud repeated voice to glad . _neas came. "Great Jove," he said, "and the far-shooting god, Inspire thy mind to make thy challenge good t" He spoke no more; but hasten'd, void of fear, And threaten'd with his long protended spear.
To whom lYlezentius thus" "Thy vaunts are vain. My Lausus lies extended on the plain"
He's lost! thy conquest is already won; The wretched sire is murther'd in the son.
Nor fate I fear, but all the gods defy. Forbear thy threats: my bus'hess is to die; But first receive this parting legacy. "
? SS8 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
tie said; and straight a whirling dart he sent; Another after, and another went.
Round in a spacious ring he rides the field, And vainly plies th' impenetrable shield.
Thrice rode he round; and thrice zEneas wheel'd, Turn'd as he turn'd: the golden orb withstood
The strokes, and bore about an iron wood. Impatient of delay, and weary grown,
Still to defend, and to defend alone,
To wrench the darts which in his buckler light, Urg'd and o'er-labor'd in unequal fight;
At length resolv'd, he throws with all his force Full at the temples of the warrior horse
Just where the stroke was aim'd, th' unerring spear Made way, and stood transfix'd thro' either ear. Seiz'd with unwonted pain, surpris'd with fright,
The wounded steed curvets, and, rals'd upright,
Lights on his feet before; his hoofs behind Spring up in air aloft, and lash the wind.
Down comes the rider headlong from his height: His horse came after with unwieldy weight, And, flound'ring forward, pitching on his head, His lord's incumber'd shoulder overlaid.
From either host, the mingled shouts and cries
Of Trojans and Rutulians rend the skies.
. _neas, hast'ning, wav'd his fatal sword
High o'er his head, with this reproachful word: "Now; where are now thy vaunts, the fierce disdain Of proud Mezentius, and the lofty strain? "
Struggling, and wildly staring on the skies, With scarce recover'd sight he thus replies:
"Why these insulting words, this waste of breath, To souls undaunted, and secure of death?
'T is no dishonor for the brave to die,
Nor came I here with hope of victory;
_or ask I life, nor fought with that design: As I had us'd my fortune, use thou thine.
My dying son contracted no such band;
The gift is hateful from his murd'rer's hand. For this, this only favor let me sue,
? THE TENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS 359
If pity can to conquer'd foes be due:
Refuse it not; but let my body have
The last retreat of humankind, a grave.
Too well I know th' insulting people's hate; Protect me from their vengeance after fate: This refuge for my poor remains provide, And lay my much-lov'd Lausus by my side. " He said, and to the sword his throat applied.
The crimson stream distain'd his arms around,
And the disdainful soul came rushing thro' the wound
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TEE ARGUMENr. --. _neas erects a trophy of the spods of Mezen- 0tus,grantsa truceforburyingthedead,and sendshome the bodyofPallaswlthgreatsolemmty Latmuscallsacouncilt,o
proposeoffersof peaceto . _neas,whach occasmnsgreatanamosity betwixtTurnusandDrances Inthemeantamethereasasharp engagementof the horse,wheretoCamillamgnahzesherself,is Idll';dand the Latanetroopsare entareldyefeated.
Above the waves, and lefther wat'ry bed; CARCE had the rosy Morning rais'dher head
The pious chief,whom double caresattend For hisunburiedsoldiersand hisfriend,
Yet frstto Heav'n perform'd a victor'svows: He bar'dan ancientoak of allher boughs;
Then on a risingground the trunk he plac'd, Which withthespoilsofhisdeadfoehegrac'd. The coatof arms by proud Mezentius worn,
Now onanakedsnagintriumphborne,
Was hung on high,and glitter'fdrom afar,
A trophysacredtotheGod ofWar.
Above his arms, fix'don the leafleswsood, Appcar'd hisplumy crest,besmear'dwith blood: His brazen buckleron the leftwas seen; Truncheons of shiver'dlanceshung between;
And on therightwas placedhiscorsletb,or'd; And totheneckwas tiedhisunavailingsword.
A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man,
Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began"
"Our toils, my friends, are crown'd with sure success; The greater part perform'd, achieve the less.
36O
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS 36_
Now follow cheerful to the trembling town; Press but an entrance, and presmne it won. Fear is no more, for fierce Mezenfius lies, As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice_
Turnus shall fall extended on the plain, And, in this omen, is already slain.
Prepar'd in arms, pursue your happy chance; That none smwarn'd may plead his ignorance, And I, at Heav'n's appointed hour, may find Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind. Meantime the rites and fun'ral pomps prepare, Due to your dead companions of the war: The last respect the hving can bestow,
To shield their shadows from contempt below.
That conquer'd earth be theirs, for which they fought, And which for us with their own blood they bought; But first the corpse of our unhappy friend
To the sad city o5 Evander send,
Who, not inglorious, in his age's bloom,
Was hurried hence by too severe a doom. "
Thras, weeping while he spoke, he took his way, Where, new in death, lamented Pallas lay. Accetes watch'd the corpse; whose youth deserv'd The father's trust; and now the son he serv'd With equal faith, but less auspicious care.
Th' attendants of the slain his sorrow share. A troop of Trojans mix'd with these appear,
And mourning matrons with dishevel'd hair. Soon as the prince appears, they raise a cry;
All beat their breasts, and echoes rend the sky. They rear his drooping forehead from the ground; Bat, when eEneas view'd the grisly wound
Which Pallas in his manly bosom bore,
And the fair flesh distain'd with purple gore; First, malting into tears, the pious man
Deplor'd so sad a sight, then thus began: "Unhappy youth I when Fortune gave the rest
Of my full wishes, she refus'd the best!
She came; but brought not thee along, to bless My longing eyes, and share in my success:
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
She grudg'd thy safe return, the triumphs dwe To prosp'rous valor, in the public view.
Not thus I promis'd, when thy father lent
Thy needless succor with a sad consent; Embrac'd me, parting for th' Etrurian land, And sent me to possess a large command.
He warn'd, and from his own experience told, O_r foes were warlike, disciplin'd, and bold. And now perhaps, in hopes of thy return,
Rich odors on his loaded altars burn,
While we, with vain oi_cious pomp, prepare To send him back his portion of the war, A bloody breathless body, which can owe
No farther debt, bttt to the pow'rs below. The wretched father, ere hls race is run, Shah view the fun'ral honors of his son.
These are my triumphs of the Latian war, Fruits of my plighted faith and boasted care! And yet, unhappy sire, thou shalt not see
A son whose death disgrac'd his ancestry;
Thou shalt not blush, old man, however griev'd: Thy Pallas no dishonest wound receiv'd.
He died no death to make thee wish, too late, Thou hadst not liv'd to see his shame_tfl fate:
But what a champion has th' Ausonian coast, And what a friend hast thou, Ascanius, lost l"
Thus having mourn'd, he gave the word around, To raise the breathless body from the ground; And chose a thousand horse, the flow'r of all
His warlike troops, to wait the funeral,
To bear him back and share Evander's grief: A well-becoming, but a weak relief.
Of oaken twigs they twist an easy bier, Then on their shoulders the sad burden rear.
The body on this rural hearse is borne:
Strew'd leaves and funeral greens the bier adorn.
All pale he lies, and looks a lovely flow'r,
New cropp'd by virgin hands, to dress the bow'r: Unfaded yet, but yet unfed below,
No _are to mother earth or the green stem shall owe.
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE IENEIS 363
Then two fair vests, of wondrous work and cost, Of purple woven, and with gold emboss'd,
For ornament the Trojan hero brought,
Which with her hands Sidonian Dido wrought.
One vest array'd the corpse; and one they spread O'er hls clos'd eyes, and wrapp'd around his head, That, when the yellow hair in flame should fall, The catching fire might burn the golden caul. Besides, the spoils of foes in battle slain,
When he descended on the Latlan plain;
Arms, trappings, horses, by the hearse are led
In long array--th' achievements of the dead. Then, pinion'd with their hands behind, appear Th' unhappy captives, marching in the rear, Appointed off'rings in the victor's name,
To sprinkle with their blood the fun'ral flame. Inferior trophies by the chiefs are borne;
Gauntlets and helms their loaded hands adorn; And fair inscriptions fix'd, and titles read
Of Latian leaders conquer'd by the dead.
Acostes on his pupil's corpse attends,
With feeble steps, supported by his friends.
Pausing at ev'ry pace, in sorrow drown'd,
Betwixt their arms he sinks upon the ground;
Where grov'ling while he lies in deep despair,
He beats his breast, and rends his hoary hair.
The champion's chariot next is seen to roll,
Besmear'd with hostile blood, and honorably foul
To close the pomp, . ,Ethon, the steed of state,
Is led, the fun'rals of his lord to wa:t.
Stripp'd of hls trappings, with a sullen pace
He walks; and the b_g tears run rolling down his face The lance of Pallas, and the crimson crest,
_re borne behind: the victor seiz'd the rest.
The march begins: the trumpets hoarsely sound;
The pikes and lances trail along the ground.
Thus while the Trojan and Arcadian horse
To Pallantean tow'rs direct their course,
In long procession rank'd, the pious chief
Stopp'd in the rear, and gave a vent to grief:
? 364 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL "The public care," he said, "which war attends,
Diverts our present woes, at least suspends. Peace with the manes of great Pallas dwell!
Hail, holy relics! and a last farewell ! "
He said no more, but, inly thro' he mourn'd, Restrain'd his tears, and to the camp return'd.
Now suppliants, from Laurentum sent, demand A truce, with olive branches in their hand;
Obtest his clemency, and from the plain
Beg leave to draw the bodies of their slain
They plead, that none those common rites deny To conquer'd foes that in fair battle die.
All cause of hate was ended in their death;
Nor could he war with bodies void of breath.
A king, they hop'd, would hear a king's request, Whose son he once was caU'd, and once his guest.
Their suit, which was too just to be denied, The hero grants, and farther thus replied:
"'0 Latian princes, how severe a fate
In causeless quarrels has involv'd your state, And arm'd against an unoffending man,
Who sought your friendship ere the war began l You beg a truce, which I would gladly give,
Not only for the slain, but those who live.
I came not hither but by Heav'n's command, And sent by fate to share the Latian land.
Nor wage I wars unjust: your king denied
My proffer'd friendship, and my promis'd bride; Left me for Turnus. Turnus then should try
His cause in arms, to conquer or to die.
My right and his are in dispute: the slain
Fell without fault, our quarrel to maintain.
In equal arms let us alone contend;
And let him vanquish, whom his fates befriend. This is the way (so tell him) to possess
The royal virgin, and restore the peace.
Bear this message back, with ample leave
That your slain friends may fun'ral rites receive. "
Thus having said--th' embassadors, amaz'd, _tood mute a while, and on each other gaz'd.
? THI_, ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE ,JENEIS 3f_
Drances, their chief, who haxbor'd in his breast Long hate to Turnus, as his foe profess'd,
Broke silence first, and to the godlike man,
With graceful action bowing, thus began: "Auspicious prince, in arms a mighty name,
But yet whose actions fax transcend your fame; Would I your justice or your force express, Thought can but equal; and all words are less. Your answer we shall thankfully relate,
And favors granted to the Latian state.
If wish'd success our labor shall attend,
Think peace concluded, and the king your friend: Let Turnus leave the realm to your command, And seek alliance in some other land:
Build you the city which your fates assign;
We shall be proud in the great work to join. "
Thus Drances; and his words so well persuade The rest impower'd, that soon a truce is made. Twelve days the term allow'd: and, during those, Latians and Trojans, now no longer foes,
Mix'd in the woods, for fun'ral piles prepare
To fell the timber, and forget the war.
Loud axes thro' the groaning groves resound; Oak, mountain ash, and poplar spread the ground; First fall from high; and some the trunks receive
_Inloaden wains; with wedges some they cleave. And now the fatal news by Fame is blown
Thro' the short circuit of th' Arcadian town, Of Pallas slain--by Fame, which just before His triumphs on distended pinions bore. Rushing from out the gate, the people stand, Each with a fun'ral flambeau in his hand. Wildly they stare, distracted with amaze:
The fields are lighten'd with a i_ery blaze,
That cast a sullen splendor on their _rlemts,
The marching troop which their dead prince attends.
Both parties meet: they raise a doleful cry;
The matrons from the walls with shrieks reply,
And their mix'd mourning rc. ndsthe vaulted sky. "['he town is ffll'd with tumult and with tears,
? DRYDEI_S TRANSLAT$01_ OF $_IROI_
Till the loud clamors reach Evander's ears: Forgetful of his state, he runs along,
With a disorder'd pace, and cleaves the throng; Fails on the corpse; and groaning there he li6s,
With silent grief, that speaks but at his eyes. Short sighs and sobs succeed; till sorrow breaks
A passage, and at once he weeps and speaks:
"O Pallas! thou hast fail'd thy plighted word,
To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword l I warn'd thee, but in vain; for well I knew What perils youthful ardor would pursue, That bozhng blood would carry thee too far, Young as thou wert in dangers, raw to war 1 O curst essay of arms, disastrous doom, Prelude of bloody fields, and fights to come[ Hard elements of unauspicious war,
Vain vows to Hear'n, and unavailing care l Thrice happy thou, dear partner of my bed, Whose holy soul the stroke of Fortune fled, Pr_escious of 111s,and leaving me behind,
To drink the dregs of life by fate assign'dl Beyond the goal of nature I have gone:
My Pallas late set out, but reach'd too soon.
If, for my league against th' Ausonian state, Amidst their weapons I had found my fate, (Deserv'd from them,) then I had been return'd A breathless victor, and my son had mourn'd.
Yet will I not my Trojan friend upbraid,
Nor grudge th' alliance I so gladly made.
'T was not his fault, my Pallas fell so young,
But my own crime, for having liv'd too long.
Yet, since the gods had destin'd him to die,
At least he led the way to victory:
First for his friends he won the fatal shore,
And sent whole herds of slaughter'd foes before; A death too great, too glorious to deplore.
Nor will I add new honors to thy grave,
Content with those the Trojan hero gave:
That funeral pomp thy Phrygian friends design'd, In which the Tuscan chiefs and army join'&
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS 367
Great spoils and trophies, gain'd by thee, they bear : Then let thy own achievements be thy share.
Even thou, O Turnus, hadst a trophy stood,
Whose mighty trunk had better grac'd the wood,
If Pallas had arriv'd, with equal length
Of years, to match thy bulk with equal strength.
But why, unhappy man, dost thou detain
These troops, to view the tears thou shedd'st in vain? Go, friends, this message to your lord relate:
Tell him, that_ if I bear my bitter fate,
And, after Pallas' death, live ling'ring on,
'Tis to behold his vengeance for my son.
I stay for Turnus, whose devoted head
[s owing to the living and the dead.
My son and I expect it from his hand;
'T is all that he can give, or we demand.
_oy is no more; but I would gladly go,
To greet my Pallas with such news below. "
The morn had now dispell'd the shades of night, Restoring toils, when she restor'd the light.
The Trojan king and Tuscan chief command
To raise the piles along the winding strand.
Their friends convey the dead to fun'ral fires,
Black smold'ring smoke from the green wood expires; The light of heav'n is chok'd, and the new day retires. Then thrice around the kindled piles they go
(For ancient custom had ordain'd it so); Thrice horse and foot about the fires are led;
And thrice, with loud laments, they hail the dead.
Tears, trickling down their breasts, bedew the ground, And drums and trumpets mix their mournful sound Amzd the blaze, their pious brethren throw
The spoils, in battle taken from the foe:
Helms, bits emboss'd, and swords of shining steel;
One casts a target, one a chariot wheel;
Some to their fellows their own arms restore:
The fauchions which in luckless fight they bore,
Their bucklers pierc'd, their darts bestow'd in vain, And shiver'd lances gather'd from the plato.
,Whole herds of offer'd bulls, about the fire,
? _'
368 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL And bristled boars, and woolly sheep expire.
Around the piles a careful troop attends,
To watch the wasting flames, and weep their burning friends
Ling'rlng along the shore, till dewy night
:New decks the face of heav'n with starry light.
The conquer'd Latians, with like pious care, Piles without number for their dead prepare.
Part in the places where they fell are laid; And part are to the neighb'ring fields convey'd.
The corps of kings, and captains of renown, Borme off in state, are buried in the town; The rest, unhonor'd, and without a name, Are cast a common heap to feed the flame. Trojans and Latians vie with like desires
To make the field of battle shine with fires, And the promiscuous blaze to heav'n aspires.
Now had the morning thrice renew'd the light, And thrice dispell'd the shadows of the night, When those who round the wasted fires remain, Perform the last sad office to the slain.
They rake the yet warm ashes from below, These, and the bones unburn'd, in earth bestow; These relics with their country rites they grace, And raise a mount of turf to mark the place.
But, in the palace of the king, appears
A scene more solemn, and a pomp of tears.
Maids, matrons, widows, mix their common moans; Orphans their sires, and sires lament their sons.
All in that universal sorrow share,
And curse the cause of this unhappy war:
A broken league, a bride unjustly sought,
A crown usurp'd, which with their blood is bought! These are the crimes with which they load the name Of Turnus, and on him alone exclaim:
"Let him who lords it o'er th' Ausoman land
Engage the Trojan hero hand to hand:
His is the gain; our lot is but to serve;
'T is just, the sway he seeks, he should deserve. " This Drances aggravates; and adds, with spite: "His foe expects, and dares him to the fight. "
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THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _ENEIS 369 Nor Turnus wants a party, to support
His cause and credit in the Latian court
His former acts secure his present fame,
And the queen shades him with her mighty name.
While thus their factious minds with fury burn, The legates from th' _tolian prince return:
Sad news they bring, that, after all the cost
And care employ'd, their embassy is lost;
That Diomedes refus'd his aid m war, Unmov'd with presents, and as deaf to pray'r. Some new alliance must elsewhere be sought,
Or peace with Troy on hard conditions bought Latinus, sunk in sorrow, finds too late,
A foreign son is pointed out by _ate;
And, till _neas shall Lavmla wed,
The wrath of Heav'n is hov'ring o'er his head The gods, he saw, espous'd the juster side, When late their titles in the field were tried.
Witness the fresh laments, and fun'ral tears undrled. Thus, full of anxious thought, he summons all
The Latlan senate to the council hall.
The princes come, commanded by their head, And crowd the paths that to the palace lead
Supreme in pow'r, and reverenc'd for his years, He takes the throne, and in the midst appears. ]VIajestlcally sad, he sits in state,
And bids his envoys their success relate.
When Venulus began, the murmuring sound Was hush'd, and sacred silence relg_n'd around
"We have," said he, "perform'd your high command, And pass'd with peril a long tract of land
We reach'd the place desir'd; with wonder fill'd,
The Greclan tents and rising tow'rs beheld.
Great Diomede has compass'd round with walls The city, which Argyripa he calls,
From his own Argos nam'd We touch'd, with joy, The royal hand that raz'd unhappy Troy
When introduc'd, our presents first we bring,
Then crave an instant audience from the king.
His leave obtain'd, our native soil we name,
? 370
DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIOI_ OF VIRGIL
And tell th' important cause for which we came. Attentively he heard us, while we spoke;
Then, with soft accents, and a pleasing look, Made this return: 'Ausonian race, of old Renown'd for peace, and for an age of gold, What madness has your alter'd minds possess'd, To change for war hereditary rest,
Solicit arms unknown, and tempt the sword, A needless ill your ancestors abhorr'd? We--for myself I speak, and all the name
Of Grecians, who to Troy's destruction came, Omitting those who were in battle slain,
Or borne by rolling Slmois to the main--
Not one but suffer'd, and too dearly bought
The prize of honor which m arms he sought; Some doom'd to death, and some in exile driv'n, Outcasts, abandon'd by the care of Hear'n;
So worn, so wretched, so despis'd a crew,
As ev'n old Priam might with pity view.
Witness the vessels by Minerva toss'd
In storms; the vengeful Capharean coast;
Th' Euboean rocks! the prince, whose brother led Our armies to revenge his injur'd bed,
In Egypt lost! Ulysses with h_s men
Have seen Charybdis and the Cyclops' den.
Why should I name Idomeneus, in vain
Restor'd to scepters, and expell'd again ?
Or young Achilles, by his rival slain ?
Ev'n he, the King of Men, the foremost name
Of all the Greeks, and most renown'd by fame,
The proud revenger of another's wife, Yet by his own adult'ress lost his life;
Fell at his threshold; and the spoils of Troy The foul polluters of hls bed enjoy.
The gods have envied me the sweets of life,
My much lov'd country, and my more lov'd wife:
Banish'd from both, I mourn; while in the sky, Transform'd to birds, my lost companions fly:
Hov'ring abotlt the coasts, they make their moan, And cuff the cliffs with oinions not their own.
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What squalid specters, in the dead of night,
Break my short sleep, and sl_m before my mght l
I might have pronns'd to myself those harms,
Mad as I was, when I, with mortal arms,
Presum'd against immortal pow'rs to move,
And violate with wounds the Queen of Love.
Such arms this hand shall never more employ;
No hate remains wtth me to ruin'd Troy.
I war not with its dust; nor am I glad
To think of past events, or good or bad.
Your presents I return: whate'er you bring
To buy my friendship, send the Trojan king.
We met in fight; I know him, to my cost:
With what a whirling force his lance he toss'd ! Heav'ns! what a spring was in his arm, to throw! How high he held his shield, and rose at ev'ry blow t Had Troy produc'd two more his match in m:,ght, They would have chang'd the fortune of the fight:
Th' invasion of the Greeks had been return'd,
Our empire wasted, and our cities burn'&
The long defense the Trojan people made,
The war protracted, and the siege delay'd,
Were due to Hector's and this hero's hand:
Both brave alike, and equal in command; 2Eneas, not inferior in the field,
In pious reverence to the gods exceU'd.
Make peace, ye Latians, and avoid with care Th' impending dangers of a fatal war. '
He said no more; but, with this cold excuse, Refus'd th' alliance, and advls'd a truce. "
Thus Venulus concluded his report.
A jarring murmur fill'd the factious court: As, when a torrent rolls with rapid force,
And dashes o'er the stones that stop the course, The flood, constrain'd within a scanty space, Roars horrible along th' uneasy race;
White foam in gath'ring eddies floats around; The rocky shores rebellow to the sound.
The murmur ceas'd: then from his lofty throne The king invok'd the trods_ and thus begun:
? $_
DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL "I wish, ye Latins, what we now debate
Had been resolv'd before it was too late. Much better had it been for you and me,
Unforc'd by this our last necessity,
To have been earlier wise, than now to call
A council, when the foe surrounds the wall.
O citizens, we wage unequal war,
With men not only Heav'n's peculiar care,
But Heav'n's own race, unconquer'd in the field, Or, conquer'd, yet unknowing how to yield.
What hopes you had in Diomedes, lay down:
Our hopes must center on ourselves alone.
Yet those how feeble, and, indeed, how vain,
You see too well, nor need my words explain. Vanquish'd without resource; laid ftat by fate; Factions within, a foe without the gate!
Not but I grant that all perform'd their parts
With manly force, and with undaunted hearts:
With our united strength the war we wag'd;
With equal numbers, equal arms, engag'd.
You see th' event. --Now hear what I propose,
To save our friends, and satisfy our foes
A tract of land the Latins have possess'd
Along the Tiber, stretching to the west,
Which now Rutulians and Auruncans t111,
And their mix'd cattle graze the frmtful hill Those mountains fill'd with firs, that lower land_ If you consent, the Trojan shall command,
Call'd into part of what is ours; and there,
On terms agreed, the common country share.
There let 'em build and settle, if they please; Unless they choose once more to cross the seas, In search of seats remote from Italy,
And from unwelcome inmates set us free.
Then twice ten galleys let us build with speed, Or twice as many mor% if more they need. Materials are at hand; a well-grown wood Runs eqtlal wlth the margin of the flood:
Let them the number and the form assign; The care and cost of all the stores be mine.
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To treat the peace, a hundred senators
Shall be commission'd hence with ample pow'rs,
With olive crown'd: the presents they shall bear,
A purple robe, a royal iv'ry chair,
And all the marks of sway that Lafian monarchs wear, And sums of gold. Among yourselves debate
This great affair, and save the stoking state. "
Then Drances took the word, who grudg'd, long since, The rasing glories of the Daunian prince.
Factious and rich, bold at the council board,
But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword;
A close caballer, and tongue-valiant lord. Noble his mother was, and near the throne;
But, what his father's parentage, unknown
lie rose, and took th' advantage of the times,
To load young Turnus with invidious crimes
"Such truths, O king," said he, "your words contain,
As strike the sense, and all replies are vain;
Nor are your loyal subjects now to seek
What common needs require, but fear to speak Let him give leave of speech, that haughty man, Whose pride this unausplcious war began;
For whose ambition (let me dare to say,
Fear set apart, tho' death is m my way)
The plains of Latium run with blood around"
So many valiant heroes bite the ground;
Dejected grief in ev'ry face appears;
A town in mourning, and a land in tears;
While he, th' undoubted author of our harms,
The man who menaces the gods with arms,
Yet, after all his boasts, forsook the fight,
And sought his safety in ignoble flight
Now, best of kings, since you propose to send Such bounteous presents to your Trojan friend; Add yet a greater at our joint request,
One which he values more than all the rest:
Give him the fair Lavinia for his bride;
With that alhance let the league be tied,
And for the bleeding land a lasting peace provide. Let insolence no longer awe the throne;
? _74 DRY_D_N_S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIT_
But, with a father's right, bestow your own.
For this maligner of the general good,
If still we fear his force, he must be woo'd;
His haughty godhead we with pray'rs implore, Your scepter to release, and our just rights restore O cursed cause of all our ills, must we
Wage wars unjust, and fall in fight, for thee! What right hast thou to rule the Latian state,
And send us out to meet our certain fate?
'Tis a destructive war: from Turnus' hand
Our peace and public safety we demand.
Let the fair bride to the brave chief remain;
If not, the peace, without the pledge, is vain. Turnus, I know you think me not your friend,
Nor will I much with your belief contend: I beg your greatness not to give the law
In others' realms, but, beaten, to withdraw. Pity your own, or pity our estate;
Nor twist our fortunes with your sinking fate. Your interest is, the war should never cease; But we have felt enough to wish the peace:
A land exhausted to the last remains, Depopulated towns, and driven plains.
Yet, if desire of fame, and thirst of pow'r,
A beauteous princess, with a crown in dow'r,
So fire your mind, in arms assert your right,
And meet your foe, who dares you to the fight. Mankind, it seems, is made for you alone;
We, but the slaves who mount you to the throne: A base ignoble crowd, without a name,
Unwept, unworthy, of the fun'ral flame,
By duty bound to forfeit each his life,
That Turnus may possess a royal wife.
Permit not, mighty man, so mean a crew
Should share such triumphs, and detain from you The post of honor, your undoubted due.
Rather alone your matchless force employ,
To merit what alone you must enjoy. "
These words, so full of malice mix'd with art, Inflam'd with rage the youthful hero's heart.
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Then, groaning from the bottom of his breast,
He heav'd for wind, and thus h_s wrath express'd:
"You, Drances, never want a stream of words, Then, when the pubhc need requires our swords. F_rst in the council hall to steer the state,
And ever foremost m a tongue-debate,
While our strong walls secure us from the foe, Ere yet with blood our ditches overflow:
But let the potent orator declaim,
And with the brand of coward blot my name; Free leave is giv'n him, when his fatal hand
Has cover'd w_th more corps the sanguine strand, And high as mine his tow'ring trophies stand.
If any doubt remains, who dares the most,
Let us decide it at the Trojan's cost,
And issue both abreast, where honor calls--
Foes are not far to seek w_thout the walls--
Unless his noisy tongue can only fight,
And feet were giv'n him but to speed his flight.
I beaten from the field? I forc'd away?
Who, but so known a dastard, dar_s to say?
Had he but ev'n beheld the fight, his eyes
Had witness'd for me what his tongue denies: What heaps of Trojans by this hand were slain, And how the bloody Tiber swell'd the mare.
All saw, but he, th' Arcadian troops retire
In scatter'd squadrons, and their prince expire The giant brothers, in their camp, have found,
I was not fore'd with ease to quit my ground.
Not s_eh the Trojans tried me, when, inclos'd,
I singly their united arms oppos'd:
First fore'd an entrance thro' their thick array; Then, glutted with their slaughter, freed my way. 'Tis a destructive war? So let it be,
But to the Phrygian pirate, and to thee!
Meantime proceed to fill the people's ears
With false reports, their minds with panic fears: Extol the strength of a twice-conquer'd race;
Our foes encourage, and our friends debase. Believe thy fables, and the Trojan town
? _76 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL Triumphant stands; the Grecians are o'erthrown;
Supphant at Hector's feet Achilles lies, And Diomede from fierce . _neas flies.
Say rapid Aufidus with awfuI dread
Runs backward from the sea, and hides his head, When the great Trojan on his bank appears;
For that's as true as thy dissembled fears
Of my revenge. Dlsmlss that vanity:
Thou, Drances, art below a death from me.
Let that vile soul in that vile body rest;
The lodging is well worthy of the guest.
"Nuw, royal father, to the present state
Of our affairs, and of this high debate:
If in your arms thus early you dlffide,
And think your fortune is already tried;
If one defeat has brought us down so low,
As never more in fields to meet the foe;
Then I conclude for peace: "tis time to treat,
And he like vassals at the victor's feet
But, 0! if any ancmnt blood remains,
One drop of all our fathers', in our veins,
That man would I prefer before the rest,
Who dar'd his death with an undaunted breast;
Who comely fell, . by no dishonest wound,
To shun that sight, and, dying, gnaw'd the ground. But, if we still have fresh recrmts in store,
If our confederates can afford us more;
If the contended field we bravely fought,
And not a bloodless victory was bought;
Their losses equal'd ours; and, for their slain, With equal fires they fill'd the shining plato;
Why thus, unforc'd, should we so tamely yield, And, ere the trumpet sounds, resign the field? Good unexpected, evils unforeseen,
Appear by turns, as fortune shifts the scene:
Some, rais'd aloft, come tumbling down amain; Then fall so hard, they bound and rise again.
If Diomede refuse his aid to lend,
The great Messapus yet remains o_r friend: Tolumnius, who foretells events, is ours;
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE . JENEIS 377 Th' Itahan chiefs and princes join their pow'cs:
Nor least m number, nor in name the last,
Your own brave subjects have your cause embrac'd
Above the rest, the Volsclan Amazon
Contains an army m herself alone,
And heads a squadron, terrible to sight,
With ghtt'rmg shields, m brazen armor bright. Y. et, if the foe a single fight demand,
And I alone the pubhc peace withstand;
If you consent, he shall not be refus'd,
Nor find a hand to victory unus'd.
This new Achdles, let him take the field, Vqlth fated armor, and Vulcanian shield! For you, my royal father, and ray fame,
I, Turnuso not the least of all my name, Devote my soul. He calls me hand to hand,
And I alone will answer his demand.
Drances shall rest secure, and neither share
The danger, nor divide the prize of war. "
While they debate, nor these nor those will yield,
JEneas draws his forces to the field,
And moves his camp The scouts with flying speed
Return, and thro' the frighted city spread
Th' unpleasing news. the Trojans are descried,
In battle marching by the river side,
_nd bending to the town They take th' alarm: Some tremble, some are bold; all in confusion arm. Th' impetuous youth press forward to the field,
They clash the sword, and clatter on the sh,eld:
The fearful matrons raise a screaming cry;
Old feeble men with fainter groans reply;
A jarring sound results, and mingles m the sky, Like that of swans remurm'ring to the floods,
Or birds of dlff'ring kinds in hollow woods
Turnus th' occasion takes, and cries aloud: "Talk on, ye quaint haranguers of the crowd"
Declaim in praise of peace, when danger calls, _knd the fioree foes in arms approach the walls" I-Ie said, and, turning short, with speedy pace, Casts back a scornful glance, and qmts the place:
? 378 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
"Thou, Volusus, the Volscian troops command To mount; and lead thyself our Ardean band. Messapus and Cat111us, post your force
Along the fields, to charge the Trojan horse. Some guard the passes, others man the wall; Drawn up in arms, the rest attend my call"
They swarm from ev'ry quarter of the town, And with dlsorder'd haste the ramplres crown.
Good old Latinus, when he saw, too late,
The gath'ring storm just breaking on the state,
Dismiss'd the council till a fitter time,
And own'd his easy temper as his crime, Who, forc'd against his reason, had comphed To break the treaty for the promis'd bride.
Some help to sink new trenches; others aid
To ram the stones, or raise the palisade.
Hoarse trumpets sound th' alarm; around the walls Runs a distracted crew, whom their last labor calls. A sad procession in the streets is seen,
Of matrons, that attend the mother queen:
High in her chair she sits, and, at her side,
With downcast eyes, appears the fatal bride.
They mount the chff, where Pallas' temple stands; Pray'rs in their mouths, and presents in their hands, With censers first they fume the sacred shrine,
Then in this common supplication join:
"0 patroness of arms, unspotted ma,d,
Propltious hear, and lend thy Latms aid l
Break short the pirate's lance; pronounce his fate, And lay the Phrygian low before the gate. "
Now Turnus arms for fight. His back and breast Well-temper'd steel and scaly brass invest:
The etches which his brawny thighs infold
Are mingled metal damask'd o'er with gold.
His faithful fauchion sits upon his side;
Nor casque, nor crest, his manly features hide:
But, bare to view, amid surrounding friends,
With godlike grace, he from the tow'r descends.
Exulting in his strength, he seems to dare His absent rival, and to promise war.
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Freed from his keepers, thus, with broken reins, The wanton courser prances o'er the plains,
Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the mounds, And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds. Or seeks his wat'rlng in the well-known flood, To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood: He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain,
And o'er his shoulder flows his waving mane: He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high; Before his ample chest the frothy waters fly.
Soon as the prince appears without the gate, The Volsclans, with their virgin leader, walt
His last commands. Then, with a graceful mien, Lights from her lofty steed the warrior queen:
Her squadron imitates, and each descends; Whose common suit Camilla thus commends:
"If sense of honor, if a soul secure
Of inborn worth, that can all tests endure,
Can promise aught, or on itsell rely
Greatly to dare, to conquer or to die;
Then, I alone, sustain'd by these, will meet
The Tyrrhene troops, and promise their defeat. Ours be the danger, ours the sole renown:
You, gen'ral, stay behind, and guard the town . "
Turnus a while stood mute, with glad surprise, And on the fierce virago fix'd his eyes;
Then thus return'd: "O grace of Italy,
With what becoming thanks can I reply?
Not only words lie lab'rlng in my breast,
But thought itself is by thy praise oppress'& Yet rob me not of all; but let me join
My toils, my hazard, and my fame, with thlne. The Trojan, not in stratagem unskill'd, Sends his llght horse before to scour the field: Himself, thro' steep ascents and thorny brakes, A larger compass to the city takes.
This news my scouts confirm, and I prepare To foil his cunning, and his force to dare; Wlth chosen foot his passage to forelay,
And place an ambush in the winding way.
? 380 DRYDEI_S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Thou, with thy Volscians, face the Tuscan horse; The brave Messapus shall thy troops inforce
With those of Tibur, and the Latian band, Subjected all to thy supreme command. "
This said t he warns Messapus to the war, Then ev'ry chief exhorts with equal care.
All thus encoura_d, his own troops he joins, And hastes to prosecute his deep designs.
Inclos'd with hills, a winding valley lies,
By nature form'd for fraud, and fitted for suprlse.
A narrow track, by human steps untrode,
Leads, thro' perplexing thorns, to this obscure abode.
High o'er the vale a steepy mountain stands,
Whence the surveying sight the nether ground command. _ The top is level, an offensive seat
Of war; and from the war a safe retreat:
For, on the right and left, is room to press
The foes at hand, or from afar distress;
To drive 'era headlong downward, and to pour
On their descending backs a stony show'r.
Thither young Turnus took the well-known way,
Possess'd the pass, and in blind ambush lay.
Meantime Latonian Phoebe, from the skies, Beheld th' approaching war with hateful eyes, And caU'd the light-foot Opis to her aid,
Her most belov'd and ever-trusty maid;
Then with a sigh began: "Camilla goes To meet her death amidst her fatal foes:
The nymphs I Iov'd of all my mortal train,
Invested with Diana's arms, in vain.
Nor is my kindness for the virgin new:
'Twas born with her; and with her years it grew. Her father Metabus, when forc'd away
From old Privernum, for tyrannic sway, Snatch'd up, and sav'd from his prevailing foes,
This tender babe, companion of his woes. Casmilla was her mother; but he drown'd
One hissing letter in a softer sound,
And call'd Camilla. Thro' the woods he flies;
_rapp'cl in his robe the royal infant hes.
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His foes in sight, he mends his weary pace; With shouts and clamors they pursue the chase.
The banks of Amasene at length he gains:
The raging flood his farther flight restrains,
Rais'd o'er the borders with unusual rains. Prepar'd to plunge into the stream, he fears, Not for himself, but for the charge he bears. Anxious, he stops a while, and thinks in haste; Then, desp'rate in distress, resolves at last.
A knotty lance of well-boil'd oak he bore; The middle part with cork he cover'd o'er:
He clos'd the child within the hollow space;
With twigs of bending osier bound the case;
Then pois'd the spear, heavy with human weight, And thus invok'd my favor for the freight:
'Accept, great goddess of the woods,' he said,
'Sent by her sire, this dedicated maid l
Thro' air she flies a suppliant to thy shrine;
And the first weapons that she knows, are thine. ' He said; and with full force the spear he threw: Above the sounding waves Camilla flew.
Then, press'd by foes, he stemm'd the stormy tide, And gain'd, by stress of arms, the farther side.
His fasten'd spear he pull'd from out the ground, And, victor of his vows, his infant nymph unbound; Nor, after that, in towns which walls inclose,
Would trust his hunted life amidst his foes;
But, rough, in open air he chose to lie;
Earth was his couch, his coy'ring was the sky.
On hills unshorn, or in a desart den,
He shunn'd the dire society of men.
A shepherd's solitary life he led;
His daughter with the milk of mares he fed.
The dugs of bears, and ev'ry salvage beast,
He drew, and thro' her lips the liquor press'd. The little Amazon could scarcely go:
He loads her with a quiver and a bow;
And, that she might her stagg'ring steps command, He with a slender jav'lin fills her hand
Her flowing hair no golden fillet bound;
? 382 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Nor swept her traihng robe the dusty ground. Instead of these, a tiger's hide o'erspread
Her back and shoulders, fasten'd to her head. The flying dart she first attempts to fling,
And round her tender temples toss'd the sling; Then, as her strength with years inereas'd, began To pierce aloft in air the soaring swan,
And from the clouds to fetch the heron and the crane. The Tuscan matrons with each other vied,
To bless their rival sons with such a bride;
But she disdains their love, to share with me
The sylvan shades and vow'd virginity.
And, O l I wish, contented with my cares
Of salvage spoils, she had not sought the wars I Then had she been of my celestial train,
And shunn'd the fate that dooms her to be slain. But since, opposing Heav'n's decree, she goes
To find her death among forbidden foes,
Haste with these arms, and take thy steep), flight. Where, with the gods, averse, the Latins fight. This bow to thee, this quiver I bequeath,
This chosen arrow, to revenge her death:
By whate'er hand Camilla shall be slain,
Or of the Trojan or Italian train,
Let him not pass unpunish'd from the plain. Then, in a hollow cloud, myself will aid
To bear the breathless body of my maid: Unspoil'd shall be her arms, and unprofan'd
Her holy limbs with any human hand,
And in a marble tomb lald in her native land. "
She said. The faithful nymph descends from high With rapid flight, and cuts the sounding sky:
Black clouds and stormy winds around her body fly.
By this, the Trojan and the Tuscan horse, Drawn up in squadrons, with united force, Approach the walls: the sprightly coursers bound, Press forward on their bits, and shift their ground. Shields, arms, and spears flash horribly from far; And the fields glitter with a waving_ war. Oppos'd to these, come on with furious force
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _NEI$ 383
Messapus, Coras, and the Latian horse; These in the body plac'd, on either hand
Sustaln'd and clos'd by fair Camilla's band. Advancing in a line, they couch their spears;
And less and less the middle space appears.
Thick smoke obscures the field; and scarce are seen
The neighing coursers, and the shouting men. In distance of their darts they stop their course; Then man to man they rush, and horse to horse. The face of heav'n their flying jav'llns hider And deaths unseen are dealt on either side_ Tyrrhenus, and Aconteus, void of fearf
By mettled coursers borne in full career,
Meet first oppos'd; and, with a mighty shock,
Their horses' heads against each other knock.