The Aeneids of Virgil - Part 17
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Part 17

Here was the son, the fate-foretold, the outland wanderer, Called on by equal doom of G.o.d the equal throne to share; He from whose loins those glorious sons of valour should come forth To take the whole world for their own by utter might of worth.

At last he spake out joyfully: "G.o.d grace our deed begun, And his own bidding! man of Troy, thine asking shall be done: 260 I take your gifts: nought shall ye lack from King Latinus' hand, Riches of Troy, nor health and wealth of fat and fruitful land.

But let aeneas come himself if he so yearn for me, If he be eager for our house, and would our fellow be; Nor let him fear to look upon friends' faces close anigh, Part of the peace-troth shall be this, my hand in his to lie.

And now bear back unto your king this bidding that I send: I have a daughter; her indeed with countryman to blend The answers of my father's house forbid, and many a sign Sent down from heaven: from over sea comes one to wed our line; 270 They say this bideth Latin Land; a man to raise our blood Up to the very stars of heaven: that this is he fate would, I think, yea hope, if any whit my heart herein avail."

He spake, and bade choose horses out from all his n.o.ble tale, Whereof three hundred sleek and fair stood in the stables high: These biddeth he for Teucrian men be led forth presently, Wing-footed purple-bearing beasts, with pictures o'er them flung Of woven stuff, and, on their b.r.e.a.s.t.s are golden collars hung: Gold-housed are they, and champ in teeth the yellow-golden chain But to aeneas, absent thence, a car and yoke-beasts twain 280 He sends: the seed of heaven are they, and breathing very fire, The blood of those that Circe stole when she beguiled her sire, That crafty mistress, winning them, b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, from earthy mare.

So back again aeneas' folk high on their horses fare, Bearing Latinus' gifts and words, and all the tale of peace.

But lo, where great Jove's bitter wife comes from the town of Greece, From Argos wrought of Inachus, and holds the airy way.

Far off she sees aeneas' joy, and where the ship-host lay Of Dardans: yea from Sicily and far Pachynus head She seeth him on earth at last and raising roofed stead, 290 And all the ships void: fixed she stood, smit through with bitter wrath, And shook her head: then from her breast the angry words came forth:

"Ah, hated race! Ah, Phrygian fates that shear my fates atwain!

Was there no dead man's place for you on that Sigean plain?

Had ye no might to wend as slaves? gave Troy so poor a flame To burn her men, that through the fire and through the swords ye came?

I think at last my G.o.dhead's might is wearied and gone by, That I have drunk enough of hate, and now at rest may lie:-- I, who had heart to follow up those outcasts from their land, And as they fled o'er all the sea still in their path would stand. 300 Against these Teucrians sea and sky have spent their strength for nought: Was Syrtes aught, or Scylla aught, or huge Charybdis aught?

Lo now the longed-for Tiber's breast that nation cherisheth Safe from the deep and safe from me: while Mars might do to death Those huge-wrought folk of Lapithae: the very Father-G.o.d Gave up the ancient Calydon to Dian's wrath and rod.

What was the guilt of Lapithae? what crime wrought Calydon?

But I, the mighty spouse of Jove, who nought have left undone My evil hap might compa.s.s, I who ran through all craft's tale Am vanquished of aeneas now. But if of no avail 310 My G.o.dhead be, I will not spare to pray what is of might, Since Heaven I move not, needs must I let loose the Nether Night.

Ah! say it is not fated me the Latin realm to ban, Lavinia must be fated wife of this same Trojan man, Yet may I draw out time at least, and those great things delay; At least may I for either king an host of people slay: For father and for son-in-law shall plenteous price be paid, With Trojan and Rutulian blood shalt thou be dowered, O maid; Bellona's self shall bridal thee; not Cisseus' seed alone Was big with brand; not she alone with wedding-ring has shone: 320 Yea, and this too is Venus' child; another Paris comes To kindle deadly torch again in new-born Trojan homes."

So spake she terrible, and sank into the earth below, Yea to the nether night, and stirred Alecto, forge of woe, From the dread G.o.ddesses' abode: sad wars she loveth well, And murderous wrath, and lurking guile, and evil deeds and fell: E'en Pluto loathes her; yea, e'en they of that Tartarean place, Her sisters, hate her: sure she hath as many a changing face, As many a cruel body's form, as her black snakes put forth.

To whom in such wise Juno spake and whetted on her wrath: 330

"Win me a work after thine heart, O Virgin of the night, Lest all my fame, unstained of old, my glory won aright, Give place: lest there aeneas' sons Latinus overcome By wedlock, and in Italy set up their house and home: Thou, who the brothers of one heart canst raise up each 'gainst each, And overturn men's homes with hate, and through the house-walls' breach Bear in the stroke and deadly brand--a thousand names hast thou,-- A thousand arts of ill: Stir up thy fruitful bosom now; Be render of the plighted peace; of war-seed be the sower; 339 That men may yearn for arms, and ask, and s.n.a.t.c.h in one same hour."

Thereon Alecto, steeped at heart with Gorgon venoming.

Sought Latium first and high-built house of that Laurentian king, And by the silent threshold stood whereby Amata lay, In whose hot heart a woman's woe and woman's wrath did play, About those Teucrian new-comers and Turnus' bridal bed: On her she cast an adder blue, a tress from off her head, And sent it to her breast to creep her very heart-strings through, That she, bewildered by the bane, may all the house undo.

So he betwixt her bosom smooth and dainty raiment slid, And crawled as if he touched her not, and maddened her yet hid, 350 And breathed the adder's soul in her: the dreadful wormy thing Seemed the wrought gold about her neck, or the long silken string That knit her hair, and slippery soft it glided o'er her limbs.

And now while first the plague begins, and soft the venom swims, Touching her sense, and round her bones the fiery web is pressed, Nor yet her soul had caught the flame through all her poisoned breast, Still soft, and e'en as mothers will, she spake the word and said Her woes about her daughter's case, and Phrygian bridal bed.

"To Teucrian outcasts shall our maid, Lavinia, wedded be?

O Father, hast thou nought of ruth of her, forsooth, and thee? 360 Nor of the mother, whom that man forsworn shall leave behind, Bearing the maiden o'er the sea with the first northern wind?

Nay, not e'en so the Phrygian herd pierced Lacedaemon's fold, And bore Ledaean Helen off unto the Trojan hold.

Nay, where is gone thine hallowed faith, thy kinsomeness of yore?

Thine hand that oft to Turnus' hand, thy kinsman, promise bore?

Lo, if we needs must seek a son strange to the Latin folk, And Father Faunus' words on thee are e'en so strait a yoke, I deem, indeed, that every land free from our kingdom's sway Is stranger land, and even so I deem the G.o.ds would say: 370 And Turnus comes, if we shall seek beginning of his race.

From Inachus, Acrisius old, and mid Mycenae's place."

But when she thus had said in vain, and saw Latinus still Withstand her: when all inwardly the maddening serpent's ill Hath smitten through her heart of hearts and pa.s.sed through all her frame, Then verily the hapless one, with dreadful things aflame, Raves through the city's length and breadth in G.o.d-wrought agonies: As 'neath the stroke of twisted lash at whiles the whip-top flies, Which lads all eager for the game drive, ever circling wide Round some void hall; it, goaded on beneath the strip of hide, 380 From circle unto circle goes; the silly childish throng Still hanging o'er, and wondering how the box-tree spins along, The while their lashes make it live: no quieter she ran Through the mid city, borne amid fierce hearts of many a man.

Then in the wilderness she feigns the heart that Bacchus fills, And stirs a greater madness up, beginning greater ills, And mid the leafy mountain-side her daughter hides away, To s.n.a.t.c.h her from the Teucrian bed, the bridal torch to stay; Foaming: "Hail, Bacchus! thou alone art worthy lord to wed This virgin thing: for thee she takes the spear's soft-fruited head, 390 For thee she twinkleth dancing feet, and feeds her holy hair."

The rumour flies, and one same rage all mother-folk doth bear, Heart-kindled by the Fury's ill, to roofs of all unrest: They flee the house and let the wind play free o'er hair and breast: While others fill the very heavens with shrilly quivering wail, And skin-clad toss about the spear the wreathing vine-leaves veil: But she ablaze amidst of them upholds the fir-lit flame, And sings her daughter's bridal song, and sings of Turnus' name, Rolling her blood-shot eyes about; then eager suddenly She shouts: "Ho, mothers! Latin wives, wherever ye may be, 400 Hearken! if in your righteous souls abideth any love Of lorn Amata; if your souls a mother's right may move, Cast off the fillets from your locks, with me the madness bear."

So through the woodland wilderness and deserts of the deer Alecto drave the Queen around, with Bacchus' stings beset But when she deemed enough was wrought that rage of hers to whet, And that Latinus' rede and house was utterly undone, Forthwith away on dusky wings is borne that evil one Unto the bold Rutulian's wall: a city, saith the tale, Raised up by Danae for her Acrisian folks' avail 410 When on the hurrying South she fled: Ardea in days of yore Our fathers called it; nor as yet is name thereof pa.s.sed o'er, Though wealth be gone: there Turnus lay within his house on high, And midmost sleep of dusky night was winning peacefully.

When there Alecto cruel face and h.e.l.lish body shed, And to an ancient woman's like her shape she fashioned, Wrinkling her forehead villanous; and h.o.a.ry coifed hair She donned, and round about it twined the olive-garland fair, And seemed the ancient Calybe of Juno's holy place; And so with such a word she thrust before the hero's face: 420

"Turnus, and wilt thou bear it now, such labour spent in vain, And give thy folk to Dardan men, the outcasts of the main?

The King gainsays thy wedding couch, and dowry justly bought By very blood, and for his throne an outland heir is sought.

Go, thou bemocked, and thrust thyself mid perils none shall thank; For cloaking of the Latin peace o'erthrow the Tuscan rank!

The mighty Saturn's Seed herself hath bid me openly To bear thee this, while thou in peace of middle night shouldst lie.

So up! be merry! arm the lads! bid wend from out the gate.

Up, up, and arm! The Phrygian folk who in the fair stream wait, Burn thou their dukes of men with fire! burn every painted keel!

'Tis heavenly might that biddeth this. Let King Latinus feel Thy strength, and learn to know at last what meaneth Turnus' sword, Unless he grant the wedding yet, and hold his plighted word."

But therewithal the young man spake, and answered her in scorn: "Thou errest: tidings of all this failed nowise to be borne Unto mine ears, how stranger ships the Tiber-flood beset.

Nay, make me not so sore afeared,--belike she minds me yet, Juno, the Queen of Heaven aloft.

Nay, mother, Eld the mouldy-dull, the empty of all sooth, 440 Tormenteth thee with cares in vain, and mid the arms of kings Bemocks the seer with idle shows of many fearful things.

Nay, 'tis for thee to watch G.o.d's house, and ward the images, And let men deal with peace and war; for they were born for these."

But at such word Alecto's wrath in utter fire outbrake; A tremor ran throughout his limbs e'en as the word he spake; Fixed stared his eyes, the Fury hissed with Serpent-world so dread, And such a mighty body woke: then rolling in her head Her eyes of flame, she thrust him back, stammering and seeking speech, As on her head she reared aloft two adders each by each, 450 And sounded all her fearful whip, and cried from raving mouth:

"Lo, I am she, the mouldy-dull, whom Eld, the void of sooth, Bemocks amid the arms of kings with empty lies of fear!

Look, look! for from the Sisters' House, the Dread Ones, come I here; And war and death I have in hand."

She spake, and on the youth she cast her torch and set its blaze, A mirky gleam of smoke-wreathed flame, amidmost of his heart: And mighty dread his slumber brake, and forth from every part, From bones and body, burst the sweat, and o'er his limbs 'gan fall; And wild he cries for arms, and seeks for arms from bed and wall: 460 The sword-l.u.s.t rageth in his soul, and wicked thirst of war.

So was it as at whiles it is, when with a mighty roar The twiggen flame goes up about the hollow side of bra.s.s; The water leapeth up therewith, within comes rage to pa.s.s, The while the cloudy foaming flood spouts up a bubbling stir, Until the sea refrains no more; the black cloud flies in air.

So to the dukes of men he shows how peace hath evil end, And on Latinus biddeth them in weed of war to wend; That they may save their Italy, and thrust the foemen forth.

And he will fare unto the field more than the twain of worth, 470 Teucrians and Latins: so he saith, and calls the G.o.ds to aid.

Then eagerly Rutulian men to war and battle bade: For some his glorious beauty stirred, and some his youth drave on, And some his sires; and some were moved by deeds his hand had done.

But while he fills Rutulian souls with love for glorious things, Alecto to the Teucrians wends on Stygian-fashioned wings, With fresh guile spying out the place where goodly on the sh.o.r.e, With toils and speed 'gainst woodland beasts, Iulus waged the war.

Here for his hounds Cocytus' Maid a sudden madness blent, Crossing the nostrils of the beasts with long familiar scent, 480 As eagerly they chased a hart. This first began the toil, And kindled field-abiders' souls to war and deadly broil.

There was a hart most excellent, a n.o.ble horned thing, That Tyrrheus' sons had stolen from its own dam's cherishing, And fostered: he, their father, had the kingly herd to heed, And well was trusted far and wide, the warden of the mead.

But to their sister Sylvia's hand the beast was used, and oft She decked him lovingly, and wreathed his horns with leaf.a.ge soft, And combed him oft, and washed him oft in water of the well.

Tame to her hand, and used enow amid manfolk to dwell, 490 He strayed the woods; but day by day betook him evermore, Of his own will at twilight-tide, to that familiar door.

Him now Iulus' hunting hounds mad-eager chanced to stir Afar from home, and floating whiles adown the river fair, Or whiles on bank of gra.s.sy green beguiling summer's flame.

Therewith Ascanius, all afire with l.u.s.t of n.o.ble fame, Turned on the beast the spiky reed from out the curved horn; Nor lacked the G.o.d to his right hand; on was the arrow borne With plenteous whirr, and smote the hart through belly and through flank; Who, wounded, to the well-known house fled fast, and groaning shrank Into the stalls of his abode, and b.l.o.o.d.y, e'en as one 501 Who cries for pity, filled the place with woefulness of moan.

Then first the sister Sylvia there, smiting her breast, cried out, Calling to aid the hardy hearts of field-folk thereabout; And swifter than the thought they came; for still that bitter Bane Lurked in the silent woods: this man a half-burned brand did gain For weapon; that a knotted stake: whate'er came first to hand, The seeker's wrath a weapon made: there Tyrrheus cheers his band, Come from the cleaving of an oak with foursome driven wedge, Panting and fierce he tossed aloft the wood-bill's grinded edge. 510 But she, that Evil, on the watch, noting the death anigh, Climbs up upon the stall-house loft, and from its roof on high Singeth the shepherd's gathering sign, and through the crooked horn Sends voice of h.e.l.l: and e'en therewith, as forth the notes were borne, The forest trembled; the deep woods resounded; yea afar The mere of Trivia heard the sound, and that white water, Nar, That bears the sulphur down its stream; the Veline well-springs heard: Mothers caught up their little ones, and trembled sore afeard.

Then hurrying at the voice sent forth by the dread war-horn's song, The hardy-hearted folk of fields from everywhither throng, 520 With weapons caught in haste: and now the Trojan folk withal Pour from their opened gates, and on to aid Ascanius fall.

And there the battle is arrayed; and now no war they wake, Where field-folk strive with knotty club or fire-behardened stake; But with the two-edged sword they strive: the meadows bristle black With harvest of the naked steel: the gleaming bra.s.s throws back Unto the clouds that swim aloft the smiting of the sun: As when the whitening of the wind across the flood doth run, And step by step the sea gets up, and higher heaps the wave, Until heaven-high it sweeps at last up from its lowest cave. 530

And here, by dint of whistling shaft in forefront of the fight, A youth, e'en Tyrrheus' eldest son, by name of Almo hight, Was laid alow: there in his throat the reedy bane abode, And shut with blood the path of speech, the tender life-breath's road.

And many a body fell around: there, thrusting through the press With peaceful word, Galaesus old died in his righteousness; Most just of men; most rich erewhile of all Ausonian land: Five flocks of bleaters once he had: five-fold came home to hand His herds of neat: an hundred ploughs turned up the earth for him. 539

But while they wrought these deeds of Mars mid doubtful fate and dim, The G.o.ddess, strong in pledge fulfilled, since she the war had stained With very blood, and death of men in that first battle gained, Leaveth the Westland, and upborne along the hollow sky, To Juno such a word of pride sets forth victoriously:

"Lo thou, the discord fashioned fair with misery of fight!

Come let them join in friendship now, and troth together plight!

But now, since I have sprinkled Troy with that Ausonian blood, I will do more, if thereunto thy will abideth good; For all the cities neighbouring to war my word shall bring, And in their souls the love of Mars and maddening fire shall fling 550 Till all strike in, and all the lea crops of my sowing bear."

But Juno answered: "Full enough there is of fraud and fear; Fast stands the stumbling-block of war, and hand to hand they fight: The sword that Fate first gave to them hath man's death stained aright Forsooth let King Latinus now and Venus' n.o.ble son Join hand to hand, and hold high feast for such a wedding won.

But thee, the Father of the G.o.ds, lord of Olympus high, Will nowise have a-wandering free beneath the worldly sky: Give place; and whatso more of toil Fortune herein may make Myself shall rule." 560 Such words as these Saturnian Juno spake, And on the wing the Evil rose, with snaky sweeping whirr, Seeking Cocytus' house, and left the light world's steep of air.

Midst Italy a place there is 'neath mountains high set down, Whose n.o.ble tale in many a land hath fame and great renown, The valley of Amsanctus called, hemmed in by woody steep On either side, and through whose midst a rattling stream doth leap, With clattering stones and eddying whirl: a strange den gapeth there, The very breathing-hole of Dis; an awful place of fear, A mighty gulf of baneful breath that Acheron hath made When he brake forth: therein as now the baneful Fury laid 570 Her hated G.o.dhead, lightening so the load of earth and heaven.

No less meanwhile did Saturn's Queen still turn her hand to leaven That war begun. The shepherd folk rush from the battle-wrack Into the city of the king, bearing their dead aback, Almo the lad, Galaesus slain with changed befouled face.

They bid Latinus witness bear, and cry the G.o.ds for grace.

Turnus is there, and loads the tale of bale-fire and the sword, And swells the fear: "The land shall have a Teucrian host for lord: With Phrygians shall ye foul your race and drive me from your door."