The Aeneid Part 33

Some firebrands throw, some flights of arrows send; And some with darts, and some with stones defend.

Amid the press appears the beauteous boy, The care of Venus, and the hope of Troy.

His lovely face unarm'd, his head was bare; In ringlets o'er his shoulders hung his hair.

His forehead circled with a diadem; Distinguish'd from the crowd, he shines a gem, Enchas'd in gold, or polish'd iv'ry set, Amidst the meaner foil of sable jet.

Nor Ismarus was wanting to the war, Directing pointed arrows from afar, And death with poison arm'd- in Lydia born, Where plenteous harvests the fat fields adorn; Where proud Pactolus floats the fruitful lands, And leaves a rich manure of golden sands.

There Capys, author of the Capuan name, And there was Mnestheus too, increas'd in fame, Since Turnus from the camp he cast with shame.

Thus mortal war was wag'd on either side.

Meantime the hero cuts the nightly tide: For, anxious, from Evander when he went, He sought the Tyrrhene camp, and Tarchon's tent; Expos'd the cause of coming to the chief; His name and country told, and ask'd relief; Propos'd the terms; his own small strength declar'd; What vengeance proud Mezentius had prepar'd: What Turnus, bold and violent, design'd; Then shew'd the slipp'ry state of humankind, And fickle fortune; warn'd him to beware, And to his wholesome counsel added pray'r.

Tarchon, without delay, the treaty signs, And to the Trojan troops the Tuscan joins.

They soon set sail; nor now the fates withstand; Their forces trusted with a foreign hand.

Aeneas leads; upon his stern appear Two lions carv'd, which rising Ida bear- Ida, to wand'ring Trojans ever dear.

Under their grateful shade Aeneas sate, Revolving war's events, and various fate.

His left young Pallas kept, fix'd to his side, And oft of winds enquir'd, and of the tide; Oft of the stars, and of their wat'ry way; And what he suffer'd both by land and sea.

Now, sacred sisters, open all your spring!

The Tuscan leaders, and their army sing, Which follow'd great Aeneas to the war: Their arms, their numbers, and their names declare.

A thousand youths brave Ma.s.sicus obey, Borne in the Tiger thro' the foaming sea; From Asium brought, and Cosa, by his care: For arms, light quivers, bows and shafts, they bear.

Fierce Abas next: his men bright armor wore; His stern Apollo's golden statue bore.

Six hundred Populonia sent along, All skill'd in martial exercise, and strong.

Three hundred more for battle Ilva joins, An isle renown'd for steel, and unexhausted mines.

Asylas on his prow the third appears, Who heav'n interprets, and the wand'ring stars; From offer'd entrails prodigies expounds, And peals of thunder, with presaging sounds.

A thousand spears in warlike order stand, Sent by the Pisans under his command.

Fair Astur follows in the wat'ry field, Proud of his manag'd horse and painted shield.

Gravisca, noisome from the neighb'ring fen, And his own Caere, sent three hundred men; With those which Minio's fields and Pyrgi gave, All bred in arms, unanimous, and brave.

Thou, Muse, the name of Cinyras renew, And brave Cupavo follow'd but by few; Whose helm confess'd the lineage of the man, And bore, with wings display'd, a silver swan.

Love was the fault of his fam'd ancestry, Whose forms and fortunes in his ensigns fly.

For Cycnus lov'd unhappy Phaeton, And sung his loss in poplar groves, alone, Beneath the sister shades, to soothe his grief.

Heav'n heard his song, and hasten'd his relief, And chang'd to snowy plumes his h.o.a.ry hair, And wing'd his flight, to chant aloft in air.

His son Cupavo brush'd the briny flood: Upon his stern a brawny Centaur stood, Who heav'd a rock, and, threat'ning still to throw, With lifted hands alarm'd the seas below: They seem'd to fear the formidable sight, And roll'd their billows on, to speed his flight.

Ocnus was next, who led his native train Of hardy warriors thro' the wat'ry plain: The son of Manto by the Tuscan stream, From whence the Mantuan town derives the name- An ancient city, but of mix'd descent: Three sev'ral tribes compose the government; Four towns are under each; but all obey The Mantuan laws, and own the Tuscan sway.

Hate to Mezentius arm'd five hundred more, Whom Mincius from his sire Benacus bore: Mincius, with wreaths of reeds his forehead cover'd o'er.

These grave Auletes leads: a hundred sweep With stretching oars at once the gla.s.sy deep.

Him and his martial train the Triton bears; High on his p.o.o.p the sea-green G.o.d appears: Frowning he seems his crooked sh.e.l.l to sound, And at the blast the billows dance around.

A hairy man above the waist he shows; A porpoise tail beneath his belly grows; And ends a fish: his breast the waves divides, And froth and foam augment the murm'ring tides.

Full thirty ships transport the chosen train For Troy's relief, and scour the briny main.

Now was the world forsaken by the sun, And Phoebe half her nightly race had run.

The careful chief, who never clos'd his eyes, Himself the rudder holds, the sails supplies.

A choir of Nereids meet him on the flood, Once his own galleys, hewn from Ida's wood; But now, as many nymphs, the sea they sweep, As rode, before, tall vessels on the deep.

They know him from afar; and in a ring Inclose the ship that bore the Trojan king.

Cymodoce, whose voice excell'd the rest, Above the waves advanc'd her snowy breast; Her right hand stops the stern; her left divides The curling ocean, and corrects the tides.

She spoke for all the choir, and thus began With pleasing words to warn th' unknowing man: "Sleeps our lov'd lord? O G.o.ddess-born, awake!

Spread ev'ry sail, pursue your wat'ry track, And haste your course. Your navy once were we, From Ida's height descending to the sea; Till Turnus, as at anchor fix'd we stood, Presum'd to violate our holy wood.

Then, loos'd from sh.o.r.e, we fled his fires profane (Unwillingly we broke our master's chain), And since have sought you thro' the Tuscan main.

The mighty Mother chang'd our forms to these, And gave us life immortal in the seas.

But young Ascanius, in his camp distress'd, By your insulting foes is hardly press'd.

Th' Arcadian hors.e.m.e.n, and Etrurian host, Advance in order on the Latian coast: To cut their way the Daunian chief designs, Before their troops can reach the Trojan lines.

Thou, when the rosy morn restores the light, First arm thy soldiers for th' ensuing fight: Thyself the fated sword of Vulcan wield, And bear aloft th' impenetrable shield.

To-morrow's sun, unless my skill be vain, Shall see huge heaps of foes in battle slain."

Parting, she spoke; and with immortal force Push'd on the vessel in her wat'ry course; For well she knew the way. Impell'd behind, The ship flew forward, and outstripp'd the wind.

The rest make up. Unknowing of the cause, The chief admires their speed, and happy omens draws.

Then thus he pray'd, and fix'd on heav'n his eyes: "Hear thou, great Mother of the deities.

With turrets crown'd! (on Ida's holy hill Fierce tigers, rein'd and curb'd, obey thy will.) Firm thy own omens; lead us on to fight; And let thy Phrygians conquer in thy right."

He said no more. And now renewing day Had chas'd the shadows of the night away.

He charg'd the soldiers, with preventing care, Their flags to follow, and their arms prepare; Warn'd of th' ensuing fight, and bade 'em hope the war.

Now, his lofty p.o.o.p, he view'd below His camp incompa.s.s'd, and th' inclosing foe.

His blazing shield, imbrac'd, he held on high; The camp receive the sign, and with loud shouts reply.

Hope arms their courage: from their tow'rs they throw Their darts with double force, and drive the foe.

Thus, at the signal giv'n, the cranes arise Before the stormy south, and blacken all the skies.

King Turnus wonder'd at the fight renew'd, Till, looking back, the Trojan fleet he view'd, The seas with swelling canvas cover'd o'er, And the swift ships descending on the sh.o.r.e.

The Latians saw from far, with dazzled eyes, The radiant crest that seem'd in flames to rise, And dart diffusive fires around the field, And the keen glitt'ring of the golden shield.

Thus threat'ning comets, when by night they rise, Shoot sanguine streams, and sadden all the skies: So Sirius, flashing forth sinister lights, Pale humankind with plagues and with dry famine fright:

Yet Turnus with undaunted mind is bent To man the sh.o.r.es, and hinder their descent, And thus awakes the courage of his friends: "What you so long have wish'd, kind Fortune sends; In ardent arms to meet th' invading foe: You find, and find him at advantage now.

Yours is the day: you need but only dare; Your swords will make you masters of the war.

Your sires, your sons, your houses, and your lands, And dearest wifes, are all within your hands.

Be mindful of the race from whence you came, And emulate in arms your fathers' fame.

Now take the time, while stagg'ring yet they stand With feet unfirm, and prepossess the strand: Fortune befriends the bold." Nor more he said, But balanc'd whom to leave, and whom to lead; Then these elects, the landing to prevent; And those he leaves, to keep the city pent.

Meantime the Trojan sends his troops ash.o.r.e: Some are by boats expos'd, by bridges more.

With lab'ring oars they bear along the strand, Where the tide languishes, and leap aland.

Tarchon observes the coast with careful eyes, And, where no ford he finds, no water fries, Nor billows with unequal murmurs roar, But smoothly slide along, and swell the sh.o.r.e, That course he steer'd, and thus he gave command: "Here ply your oars, and at all hazard land: Force on the vessel, that her keel may wound This hated soil, and furrow hostile ground.

Let me securely land- I ask no more; Then sink my ships, or shatter on the sh.o.r.e."

This fiery speech inflames his fearful friends: They tug at ev'ry oar, and ev'ry stretcher bends; They run their ships aground; the vessels knock, (Thus forc'd ash.o.r.e,) and tremble with the shock.

Tarchon's alone was lost, that stranded stood, Stuck on a bank, and beaten by the flood: She breaks her back; the loosen'd sides give way, And plunge the Tuscan soldiers in the sea.

Their broken oars and floating planks withstand Their pa.s.sage, while they labor to the land, And ebbing tides bear back upon th' uncertain sand.

Now Turnus leads his troops without delay, Advancing to the margin of the sea.

The trumpets sound: Aeneas first a.s.sail'd The clowns new-rais'd and raw, and soon prevail'd.

Great Theron fell, an omen of the fight; Great Theron, large of limbs, of giant height.

He first in open field defied the prince: But armor scal'd with gold was no defense Against the fated sword, which open'd wide His plated shield, and pierc'd his naked side.

Next, Lichas fell, who, not like others born, Was from his wretched mother ripp'd and torn; Sacred, O Phoebus, from his birth to thee; For his beginning life from biting steel was free.

Not far from him was Gyas laid along, Of monstrous bulk; with Cisseus fierce and strong: Vain bulk and strength! for, when the chief a.s.sail'd, Nor valor nor Herculean arms avail'd, Nor their fam'd father, wont in war to go With great Alcides, while he toil'd below.

The noisy Pharos next receiv'd his death: Aeneas writh'd his dart, and stopp'd his bawling breath.

Then wretched Cydon had receiv'd his doom, Who courted Clytius in his beardless bloom, And sought with l.u.s.t obscene polluted joys: The Trojan sword had curd his love of boys, Had not his sev'n bold brethren stopp'd the course Of the fierce champions, with united force.

Sev'n darts were thrown at once; and some rebound From his bright shield, some on his helmet sound: The rest had reach'd him; but his mother's care Prevented those, and turn'd aside in air.