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.
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.
Dryden - Virgil - Aeineid
"
He said, and to the void advanc'd his pace
Pale horror sate on each Arcadian face.
Then Turnus, from his chariot leaping light, Address'd himself on foot to single fight.
And. as a lion--when he spies from far
A bull that seems to meditate the war,
Bending his neck, and spurning back the sand-- Runs roaring downward from his hilly stand: Imagine eager Turnus not more slow,
To rush from high on his unequal foe
Young Pallas, when he saw the chief advance
Within due distance of his flying lance,
Prepares to charge him first, resolv'd to try
If fortune would his want of force supply;
And thus to Heav'n and Hercules address'd;
"Alcides, once on earth Evander's guest,
His son adjures you by those holy rites,
That hospitable board, those genial nights;
Assist my great attempt to gain this prize,
And let proud Turnus view, with dying eyes,
His ravish'd spoils" 'T was heard, the vain request_ Alcldes mourn'd, and stifled sighs within his breast. Then Jove, to soothe his sorrow, thus began:
"Short bounds of life are set to mortal man.
'T is virtue's work alone to stretch the narrow span.
So many sons of gods, in bloody fight,
Aro-and the walls of Troy, have lost the light:
My own Sarpedon fell beneath his foe;
Nor I, his mighty sire, could ward the blow.
Ev'n Turnus shortly shall resign his breath_
? THE TENTH BOOK 0I_ T_H_ _NEIS _,4_
And stands already on the verge o_ death. " This said, the god permits the fatal fight,
But from the Latian fields averts his sight.
Now with full force his spear young Pallas threw,
And, having thrown, his shining fauchion drew The steel just graz'd along the shoulder joint,
And mark'd it slightly with the glancing point, Fierce Turnus first to nearer distance drew,
And pois'd his pointed spear, before he threw: Then, as the winged weapon whizz'd along,
"See now," said he, "whose arm is better strung. " The spear kept on the fatal course, unstay'd
By plates of if'n, which o'er the shield were l_id: Thro' folded brass and tough bull hides it pass'd, His covslet plerc'd, and reach'd his heart at last. In vain the youth tugs at the broken wood;
The soul comes issuing with the vital blood:
He fails; his arms upon his body sound;
And with his bloody teeth he bites the ground.
Turnus bestrode the corpse: "Arcadians, hear," Said he; "my message to your master bear:
Such as the sire deserv'd, the son I send;
It costs him dear to be the Phryglans' friend,
The lifeless body, tell him, I bestow,
Unask'd, to rest his wand'ring ghost below. "
He said, and trampled down with all the force Of his left foot, and spurn'd the wretched corse: Then snatch'd the shining belt, with gold inlaid; The belt Eurytion's artful hands had made, Where fifty fatal brides, express'd to sight,
All in the compass of one mournful night, Depriv'd their bridegrooms of returning light.
In an ill hour insulting Turnus tore
Those golden spoils, and in a worse he wore.
O mortals, blind in fate, who never know
To bear high fortune, or endure the low!
The time shall come, when Turnus, but iu va_n, Shall wish untouch'd the trophies of the slain; Shall wish the fatal belt were far away,
And curse the dire remembrance of the day.
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
The sad Arcadians, from th' unhappy field, Bear back the breathless body on a shield.
O grace and grief of war l at once restor'd,
With praises, to thy sire, at once deplor'd!
One day first sent thee to the fighting field,
Beheld whole heaps of foes in battle kill'd;
One day beheld thee dead, and borne upon thy shield. This dismal news, not from uncertain fame,
But sad spectators, to the hero came:
His friends upon the brink of ruin stand,
Unless reliev'd by his victorious hand.
He whirls his sword around, without delay, And hews thro' adverse foes an ample way, To find fierce Turnus, of his conquest proud: Evander, Pallas, all that friendshlp ow'd
To large deserts, are present to his eyes;
His plighted hand, and hospitable ties.
Four sons of Sulmo, four whom Ufens bred, He took in fight, and living victims led,
To please the ghost of Pallas, and expire,
In sacrifice, before his fun'r,al fire.
At Magus next he threw: he stoop'd below
The flying spear, and shunn'd the promis'd blow; Then, creeping, clasp'd the hero's knees, and pray'd: "By young Iulus, by thy father's shade,
0 spare my life, and send me back to see
My longing sire, and tender progeny!
A lofty house I have, and wealth untold,
In silver ingots, and in bars of gold:
All these, and sums besides, which see no day, The ransom of this one poor life shall pay.
If I survive, will Troy the less prevail_
A single soul's too light to turn the scale"
He said. The hero sternly thus replied
"Thy bars and ingots, and the sums beside, Leave for thy children's lot. Thy Turnus broke All rules of war by one relentless stroke, When Pallas fell- so deems, nor deems alone My father's shadow, but my living son"
Thus having saidt of kind remorse bereft,
? rile TENTH B_DOK OF THE . _NEIS 34,5
He selz'd h:s helm, and dragg'd h:m with his left; Then with his right hand, while his neck he wreath'd, Up to the hilts h4s shining fauchion sheath'd.
Apollo's priest, Emonides, was near;
His holy fillets on his front appear;
Glitt'ring in arms, he shone amidst the crowd; Much of his god, more of his purple, proud.
Him the fierce Trojan follow'd thro' the field:
The holy coward fell; and, forc'd to yield,
The prince stood o'er the priest, and, at one blow, Sent him an off'ring to the shades below.
His arms Seresthus on his shoulders bears, Design'd a trophy to the God of \\Tars.
Vulcanian Cmculus renews the fight,
And Umbro, born upon the mountains' height.
The champion cheers his troops t' encounter those, And seeks revenge himself on other foes.
At Anxur's shield he drove; and, at the blow, Both shield and arm to ground together go.
Anxur had boasted much of magic charms, And thaught he wore impenetrable arms,
So made by mutter'd spells; and, from the spheres, Had life secur'd, m vain, for length of years
Then Tarquitus the field in triumph trod;
A nymph his mother, and his sire a god.
ExuIting in bright arms, he braves the prince: With his protended lance he makes defense; Bears back his feeble foe; then, pressing on, Arrests his better hand, and drags him down; Stands o'er the prostrate wretch, and, as he lay, Vain tales inventing, and prepar'd to pray, Mows off his head: the trunk a moment stood, Then sunk, and roll'd along the sand in blood. The vengeful victor thus upbraids the slain: "Lie there, proud man, unpitied, on the plain; Lie there, inglorious, and without a tomb,
Far from thy mother and thy native home, Expos'd to savage beasts, and birds of prey,
Or thrown for food to monsters of the sea. " On ]-. yeas and Ant_us next he ran,
? $46 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Two chiefs of Turnus, and who led his van.
They fled for fear; with these, he chas'd along Careers the yellow-look'd, and Numa strong;
Both great in arms, and both were fair and youn_ Careers was son to Volscens lately slam,
In wealth surpassing all the Latian train,
And in Amycla fix'd his silent easy reign.
And, as ? Egmon, when with heav'n he strove,
Stood opposite in arms to mighty Jove;
Mov'd all his hundred hands, provok'd the wars Defied the forky lightning from afar;
At fifty months his flaming breath expires,
And flash for flash returns, and fires for fires;
In his right hand as many swords he wields,
And takes the thunder on as many shields:
With strength like his, the Trojan hero stood;
And soon the fields with falling corps were strow'd, When once his fauchion found the taste of blood. With fury scarce to be conceiv'd, he flew
Against Niphmus, whom four coursers drew.
They, when they see the fiery chief advance,
And pushing dt their chests his pointed lance, Wheel'd with so swift a motion, mad with fear,
They threw their master headlong from the chair. They stare, they start, nor stop their course, before They bear the bounding chariot to the shore.
Now Lucagus and Liger scour the plains,
With two white steeds; but Liger holds the Veins,
And Lucagns the lofty seat maintains:
Bold brethren both. The former wav'd in air
His flaming sword: _neas couch'd his spear, Unus'd to threats, and more unus'd to fear.
Then Liger thus: "Thy confidence is vain
To scape from hence, as from the Trojan plain:
Nor these the steeds which Diomede bestrode, Nor this the chariot where Achilles rode;
Nor Venus' veil is here, near Neptune's shield; Thy fatal hour is come, and this the field. "
Thus Liger vainly vaunts: the Trojan peer Return'd his answer witii his flying _pear.
? THE TEWfH BOOK OF THR _NEIS _47 L _s Lucagus, to lash his horses, bends,
Prone to the wheels, and his left foot protends, Prepar'd for fight; the fatal dart arrives,
And thro' the borders of his buckler drives;
Pass'd thro' and pierc'd his groin: the deadly wound, Cast from his chariot, roll'd him on the ground
Whom thus the chief upbraids with scornful spite: "Blame not the slowness of your steeds in flight; Vain shadows did not force their swift retreat;
But you yourself forsake your empty seat. "
He said, and seiz'd at once the loosen'd rein;
For Liger lay already on the plain,
By the same shock: then, stretch|ng out his hands, The recreant thus his wretched life demands:
"Now, by thyself, O more than mortal man t
By her and him from whom thy breath began,
Who form'd thee thus divine, I beg thee, spare
This forfeit llfe, and hear thy suppllant's pray'r/' Thus much he spoke, and more he would have said; But the stern hero turn'd aside his head,
And cut him short: "I hear another man;
You talk'd not thus before the fight began.
Now take your turn; and, as a brother should,
Attend your brother to the Stygian flood. *
Then thro' his breast his fatal sword he sent,
And the soul issued at the gaping ,cent.
As storms the skies, and torrents tear the ground, Thus ragad the prince, and scatter'd deaths around. At length Ascanius and the Trojan train
Broke from the camp, so long besieg'd in valn.
Meantime the King of Gods and Mortal Man Held conference with his queen, and thus began"
"My sister goddess, and well-pleaslng wife,
Still think you Venus' aid supports the strife--
Sustains her Trojans--or themselves, alone, With inborn valor force their fortune on?
How fierce in fight, with courage undeeay'd! Judge if such warriors want immortal aid. "
To whom the goddess with the charming eye, Solt in her tone_submissivelyreplies:
i ,_
? a !
/
848
DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
"Why, 0 my sov'reign lord, whose frown I fear, And cannot, unconcern'd, your anger bear;
Why urge you thus my grlcf? when, if I stilt
(As once I was) were mistress of your will, From your almighty pow'r your pleasing wife Might gain the grace of length'ning Turnus' life, Securely snatch him from the fatal fight,
And give him to his aged father's sight
Now let him perish, since you hold ,t good,
And glut the Trojans w_th his pious blood.
Yet from our lineage he derives his name,
And, in the fourth degree, from god PlIumnus came; Yet he devoutly pays you rites divine,
And offers daily incense at your shrine"
Then shortly thus the sov'relgn god rephed:
"Since in my pow'r and goodness you confide,
If for a little space, a lengthen'd span,
You beg reprieve for this expiring man,
I grant you leave to take your Turnus hence
From instant fate, and can so far dispense.
But, if some secret meaning lies beneath,
To save the short-liv'd youth from destin'd death, Or if a farther thought you entertain,
To change the fates; you feed your hopes in vain. " To whom the goddess thus, with weeping eyes: "And what if that request, your tongue denies,
Your heart should grant; and not a short reprieve, But length of certain life. to Turnus give?
Now speedy death attends the guiltless youth,
If my presaging soul divines with truth;
Which, O! I wish, might err thro' causeless _ears, And you (for you have pow'r) prolong his years v'
Thus having sald, involv'd in clouds, she flies, :And drives a storm before her thro' the skies.
Swift she descends, alighting on the plain, Where the fierce foes a dubious fight maintain.
Of air condens'd a specter soon she made: And, what _neas was, such seem'd the shade. _dorn'd with Dardan arms, the phantom bore His head aloft; a plumy crest he wore;
? THE TENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS S4g This hand appear'd a shining sword to wield,
And that sustain'd an imitated shield.
With manly mien he stalk'd along the ground, Nor wanted voice behed, nor vaunting sound.
(Thus haunting ghosts appear to waking sight. Or dreadful visions in our dreams by night ) The specter seems the Daunian chief to dare, And flourishes his empty sword in air
At this, advancing, Turnus hurl'd his spear" The phantom wheel'd, and seem d to fly for fear.
Deluded Turnus thought the Trojan fled,
And with vain hopes his haughty fancy fed. "Whether, 0 coward? " (thus he calls aloud,
Nor found he spoke to wind, and chas'd a cloud,) "Why thus forsake your bride! Receixe from me The fated land you sought so long by sea"
He said, and, brandishing at once his blade,
With eager pace pursued the flying shade.
By chance a ship was fasten'd to the shore,
Which from old Clusium King Osinius bore:
The plank was ready laid for safe ascent,
For shelter there the trembling shadow bent,
And skipp't and skulk'd, and under hatches went. Exulting Turnus, with regardless haste,
Ascends the plank, and to the galley pass'd
Scarce had he reach'd the prow: Saturma's hand The hau|sers cuts, and shoots the ship from land. With wind in poop, the vessel plows the sea,
And measures back with speed her former way. Meantime . _neas seeks his absent foe,
And sends his slaughter'd troops to shades below.
The guileful phantom now forsook the shroud, And flew sublime, and varlsh'd in a cloud.
Too late young Turnus the delusion found,
Far on the sea, still making from the ground. 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 :
? f
?
$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
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE /ENEIS
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. "
? I'
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.
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _ENEIS
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.
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS 373
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.
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS $75
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!
He said, and to the void advanc'd his pace
Pale horror sate on each Arcadian face.
Then Turnus, from his chariot leaping light, Address'd himself on foot to single fight.
And. as a lion--when he spies from far
A bull that seems to meditate the war,
Bending his neck, and spurning back the sand-- Runs roaring downward from his hilly stand: Imagine eager Turnus not more slow,
To rush from high on his unequal foe
Young Pallas, when he saw the chief advance
Within due distance of his flying lance,
Prepares to charge him first, resolv'd to try
If fortune would his want of force supply;
And thus to Heav'n and Hercules address'd;
"Alcides, once on earth Evander's guest,
His son adjures you by those holy rites,
That hospitable board, those genial nights;
Assist my great attempt to gain this prize,
And let proud Turnus view, with dying eyes,
His ravish'd spoils" 'T was heard, the vain request_ Alcldes mourn'd, and stifled sighs within his breast. Then Jove, to soothe his sorrow, thus began:
"Short bounds of life are set to mortal man.
'T is virtue's work alone to stretch the narrow span.
So many sons of gods, in bloody fight,
Aro-and the walls of Troy, have lost the light:
My own Sarpedon fell beneath his foe;
Nor I, his mighty sire, could ward the blow.
Ev'n Turnus shortly shall resign his breath_
? THE TENTH BOOK 0I_ T_H_ _NEIS _,4_
And stands already on the verge o_ death. " This said, the god permits the fatal fight,
But from the Latian fields averts his sight.
Now with full force his spear young Pallas threw,
And, having thrown, his shining fauchion drew The steel just graz'd along the shoulder joint,
And mark'd it slightly with the glancing point, Fierce Turnus first to nearer distance drew,
And pois'd his pointed spear, before he threw: Then, as the winged weapon whizz'd along,
"See now," said he, "whose arm is better strung. " The spear kept on the fatal course, unstay'd
By plates of if'n, which o'er the shield were l_id: Thro' folded brass and tough bull hides it pass'd, His covslet plerc'd, and reach'd his heart at last. In vain the youth tugs at the broken wood;
The soul comes issuing with the vital blood:
He fails; his arms upon his body sound;
And with his bloody teeth he bites the ground.
Turnus bestrode the corpse: "Arcadians, hear," Said he; "my message to your master bear:
Such as the sire deserv'd, the son I send;
It costs him dear to be the Phryglans' friend,
The lifeless body, tell him, I bestow,
Unask'd, to rest his wand'ring ghost below. "
He said, and trampled down with all the force Of his left foot, and spurn'd the wretched corse: Then snatch'd the shining belt, with gold inlaid; The belt Eurytion's artful hands had made, Where fifty fatal brides, express'd to sight,
All in the compass of one mournful night, Depriv'd their bridegrooms of returning light.
In an ill hour insulting Turnus tore
Those golden spoils, and in a worse he wore.
O mortals, blind in fate, who never know
To bear high fortune, or endure the low!
The time shall come, when Turnus, but iu va_n, Shall wish untouch'd the trophies of the slain; Shall wish the fatal belt were far away,
And curse the dire remembrance of the day.
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
The sad Arcadians, from th' unhappy field, Bear back the breathless body on a shield.
O grace and grief of war l at once restor'd,
With praises, to thy sire, at once deplor'd!
One day first sent thee to the fighting field,
Beheld whole heaps of foes in battle kill'd;
One day beheld thee dead, and borne upon thy shield. This dismal news, not from uncertain fame,
But sad spectators, to the hero came:
His friends upon the brink of ruin stand,
Unless reliev'd by his victorious hand.
He whirls his sword around, without delay, And hews thro' adverse foes an ample way, To find fierce Turnus, of his conquest proud: Evander, Pallas, all that friendshlp ow'd
To large deserts, are present to his eyes;
His plighted hand, and hospitable ties.
Four sons of Sulmo, four whom Ufens bred, He took in fight, and living victims led,
To please the ghost of Pallas, and expire,
In sacrifice, before his fun'r,al fire.
At Magus next he threw: he stoop'd below
The flying spear, and shunn'd the promis'd blow; Then, creeping, clasp'd the hero's knees, and pray'd: "By young Iulus, by thy father's shade,
0 spare my life, and send me back to see
My longing sire, and tender progeny!
A lofty house I have, and wealth untold,
In silver ingots, and in bars of gold:
All these, and sums besides, which see no day, The ransom of this one poor life shall pay.
If I survive, will Troy the less prevail_
A single soul's too light to turn the scale"
He said. The hero sternly thus replied
"Thy bars and ingots, and the sums beside, Leave for thy children's lot. Thy Turnus broke All rules of war by one relentless stroke, When Pallas fell- so deems, nor deems alone My father's shadow, but my living son"
Thus having saidt of kind remorse bereft,
? rile TENTH B_DOK OF THE . _NEIS 34,5
He selz'd h:s helm, and dragg'd h:m with his left; Then with his right hand, while his neck he wreath'd, Up to the hilts h4s shining fauchion sheath'd.
Apollo's priest, Emonides, was near;
His holy fillets on his front appear;
Glitt'ring in arms, he shone amidst the crowd; Much of his god, more of his purple, proud.
Him the fierce Trojan follow'd thro' the field:
The holy coward fell; and, forc'd to yield,
The prince stood o'er the priest, and, at one blow, Sent him an off'ring to the shades below.
His arms Seresthus on his shoulders bears, Design'd a trophy to the God of \\Tars.
Vulcanian Cmculus renews the fight,
And Umbro, born upon the mountains' height.
The champion cheers his troops t' encounter those, And seeks revenge himself on other foes.
At Anxur's shield he drove; and, at the blow, Both shield and arm to ground together go.
Anxur had boasted much of magic charms, And thaught he wore impenetrable arms,
So made by mutter'd spells; and, from the spheres, Had life secur'd, m vain, for length of years
Then Tarquitus the field in triumph trod;
A nymph his mother, and his sire a god.
ExuIting in bright arms, he braves the prince: With his protended lance he makes defense; Bears back his feeble foe; then, pressing on, Arrests his better hand, and drags him down; Stands o'er the prostrate wretch, and, as he lay, Vain tales inventing, and prepar'd to pray, Mows off his head: the trunk a moment stood, Then sunk, and roll'd along the sand in blood. The vengeful victor thus upbraids the slain: "Lie there, proud man, unpitied, on the plain; Lie there, inglorious, and without a tomb,
Far from thy mother and thy native home, Expos'd to savage beasts, and birds of prey,
Or thrown for food to monsters of the sea. " On ]-. yeas and Ant_us next he ran,
? $46 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Two chiefs of Turnus, and who led his van.
They fled for fear; with these, he chas'd along Careers the yellow-look'd, and Numa strong;
Both great in arms, and both were fair and youn_ Careers was son to Volscens lately slam,
In wealth surpassing all the Latian train,
And in Amycla fix'd his silent easy reign.
And, as ? Egmon, when with heav'n he strove,
Stood opposite in arms to mighty Jove;
Mov'd all his hundred hands, provok'd the wars Defied the forky lightning from afar;
At fifty months his flaming breath expires,
And flash for flash returns, and fires for fires;
In his right hand as many swords he wields,
And takes the thunder on as many shields:
With strength like his, the Trojan hero stood;
And soon the fields with falling corps were strow'd, When once his fauchion found the taste of blood. With fury scarce to be conceiv'd, he flew
Against Niphmus, whom four coursers drew.
They, when they see the fiery chief advance,
And pushing dt their chests his pointed lance, Wheel'd with so swift a motion, mad with fear,
They threw their master headlong from the chair. They stare, they start, nor stop their course, before They bear the bounding chariot to the shore.
Now Lucagus and Liger scour the plains,
With two white steeds; but Liger holds the Veins,
And Lucagns the lofty seat maintains:
Bold brethren both. The former wav'd in air
His flaming sword: _neas couch'd his spear, Unus'd to threats, and more unus'd to fear.
Then Liger thus: "Thy confidence is vain
To scape from hence, as from the Trojan plain:
Nor these the steeds which Diomede bestrode, Nor this the chariot where Achilles rode;
Nor Venus' veil is here, near Neptune's shield; Thy fatal hour is come, and this the field. "
Thus Liger vainly vaunts: the Trojan peer Return'd his answer witii his flying _pear.
? THE TEWfH BOOK OF THR _NEIS _47 L _s Lucagus, to lash his horses, bends,
Prone to the wheels, and his left foot protends, Prepar'd for fight; the fatal dart arrives,
And thro' the borders of his buckler drives;
Pass'd thro' and pierc'd his groin: the deadly wound, Cast from his chariot, roll'd him on the ground
Whom thus the chief upbraids with scornful spite: "Blame not the slowness of your steeds in flight; Vain shadows did not force their swift retreat;
But you yourself forsake your empty seat. "
He said, and seiz'd at once the loosen'd rein;
For Liger lay already on the plain,
By the same shock: then, stretch|ng out his hands, The recreant thus his wretched life demands:
"Now, by thyself, O more than mortal man t
By her and him from whom thy breath began,
Who form'd thee thus divine, I beg thee, spare
This forfeit llfe, and hear thy suppllant's pray'r/' Thus much he spoke, and more he would have said; But the stern hero turn'd aside his head,
And cut him short: "I hear another man;
You talk'd not thus before the fight began.
Now take your turn; and, as a brother should,
Attend your brother to the Stygian flood. *
Then thro' his breast his fatal sword he sent,
And the soul issued at the gaping ,cent.
As storms the skies, and torrents tear the ground, Thus ragad the prince, and scatter'd deaths around. At length Ascanius and the Trojan train
Broke from the camp, so long besieg'd in valn.
Meantime the King of Gods and Mortal Man Held conference with his queen, and thus began"
"My sister goddess, and well-pleaslng wife,
Still think you Venus' aid supports the strife--
Sustains her Trojans--or themselves, alone, With inborn valor force their fortune on?
How fierce in fight, with courage undeeay'd! Judge if such warriors want immortal aid. "
To whom the goddess with the charming eye, Solt in her tone_submissivelyreplies:
i ,_
? a !
/
848
DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
"Why, 0 my sov'reign lord, whose frown I fear, And cannot, unconcern'd, your anger bear;
Why urge you thus my grlcf? when, if I stilt
(As once I was) were mistress of your will, From your almighty pow'r your pleasing wife Might gain the grace of length'ning Turnus' life, Securely snatch him from the fatal fight,
And give him to his aged father's sight
Now let him perish, since you hold ,t good,
And glut the Trojans w_th his pious blood.
Yet from our lineage he derives his name,
And, in the fourth degree, from god PlIumnus came; Yet he devoutly pays you rites divine,
And offers daily incense at your shrine"
Then shortly thus the sov'relgn god rephed:
"Since in my pow'r and goodness you confide,
If for a little space, a lengthen'd span,
You beg reprieve for this expiring man,
I grant you leave to take your Turnus hence
From instant fate, and can so far dispense.
But, if some secret meaning lies beneath,
To save the short-liv'd youth from destin'd death, Or if a farther thought you entertain,
To change the fates; you feed your hopes in vain. " To whom the goddess thus, with weeping eyes: "And what if that request, your tongue denies,
Your heart should grant; and not a short reprieve, But length of certain life. to Turnus give?
Now speedy death attends the guiltless youth,
If my presaging soul divines with truth;
Which, O! I wish, might err thro' causeless _ears, And you (for you have pow'r) prolong his years v'
Thus having sald, involv'd in clouds, she flies, :And drives a storm before her thro' the skies.
Swift she descends, alighting on the plain, Where the fierce foes a dubious fight maintain.
Of air condens'd a specter soon she made: And, what _neas was, such seem'd the shade. _dorn'd with Dardan arms, the phantom bore His head aloft; a plumy crest he wore;
? THE TENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS S4g This hand appear'd a shining sword to wield,
And that sustain'd an imitated shield.
With manly mien he stalk'd along the ground, Nor wanted voice behed, nor vaunting sound.
(Thus haunting ghosts appear to waking sight. Or dreadful visions in our dreams by night ) The specter seems the Daunian chief to dare, And flourishes his empty sword in air
At this, advancing, Turnus hurl'd his spear" The phantom wheel'd, and seem d to fly for fear.
Deluded Turnus thought the Trojan fled,
And with vain hopes his haughty fancy fed. "Whether, 0 coward? " (thus he calls aloud,
Nor found he spoke to wind, and chas'd a cloud,) "Why thus forsake your bride! Receixe from me The fated land you sought so long by sea"
He said, and, brandishing at once his blade,
With eager pace pursued the flying shade.
By chance a ship was fasten'd to the shore,
Which from old Clusium King Osinius bore:
The plank was ready laid for safe ascent,
For shelter there the trembling shadow bent,
And skipp't and skulk'd, and under hatches went. Exulting Turnus, with regardless haste,
Ascends the plank, and to the galley pass'd
Scarce had he reach'd the prow: Saturma's hand The hau|sers cuts, and shoots the ship from land. With wind in poop, the vessel plows the sea,
And measures back with speed her former way. Meantime . _neas seeks his absent foe,
And sends his slaughter'd troops to shades below.
The guileful phantom now forsook the shroud, And flew sublime, and varlsh'd in a cloud.
Too late young Turnus the delusion found,
Far on the sea, still making from the ground. 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 :
? f
?
$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
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE /ENEIS
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. "
? I'
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.
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _ENEIS
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.
? THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS $75
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!
