The Aeneid Part 4

Inviolable pow'rs, ador'd with dread!

Ye fatal fillets, that once bound this head!

Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I fled!

Be all of you adjur'd; and grant I may, Without a crime, th' ungrateful Greeks betray, Reveal the secrets of the guilty state, And justly punish whom I justly hate!

But you, O king, preserve the faith you gave, If I, to save myself, your empire save.

The Grecian hopes, and all th' attempts they made, Were only founded on Minerva's aid.

But from the time when impious Diomede, And false Ulysses, that inventive head, Her fatal image from the temple drew, The sleeping guardians of the castle slew, Her virgin statue with their b.l.o.o.d.y hands Polluted, and profan'd her holy bands; From thence the tide of fortune left their sh.o.r.e, And ebb'd much faster than it flow'd before: Their courage languish'd, as their hopes decay'd; And Pallas, now averse, refus'd her aid.

Nor did the G.o.ddess doubtfully declare Her alter'd mind and alienated care.

When first her fatal image touch'd the ground, She sternly cast her glaring eyes around, That sparkled as they roll'd, and seem'd to threat: Her heav'nly limbs distill'd a briny sweat.

Thrice from the ground she leap'd, was seen to wield Her brandish'd lance, and shake her horrid shield.

Then Calchas bade our host for flight And hope no conquest from the tedious war, Till first they sail'd for Greece; with pray'rs besought Her injur'd pow'r, and better omens brought.

And now their navy plows the wat'ry main, Yet soon expect it on your sh.o.r.es again, With Pallas pleas'd; as Calchas did ordain.

But first, to reconcile the blue-ey'd maid For her stol'n statue and her tow'r betray'd, Warn'd by the seer, to her offended name We rais'd and dedicate this wondrous frame, So lofty, lest thro' your forbidden gates It pa.s.s, and intercept our better fates: For, once admitted there, our hopes are lost; And Troy may then a new Palladium boast; For so religion and the G.o.ds ordain, That, if you violate with hands profane Minerva's gift, your town in flames shall burn, (Which omen, O ye G.o.ds, on Graecia turn!) But if it climb, with your a.s.sisting hands, The Trojan walls, and in the city stands; Then Troy shall Argos and Mycenae burn, And the reverse of fate on us return.'

"With such deceits he gain'd their easy hearts, Too p.r.o.ne to credit his perfidious arts.

What Diomede, nor Thetis' greater son, A thousand ships, nor ten years' siege, had done- False tears and fawning words the city won.

"A greater omen, and of worse portent, Did our unwary minds with fear torment, Concurring to produce the dire event.

Laoc.o.o.n, Neptune's priest by lot that year, With solemn pomp then sacrific'd a steer; When, dreadful to behold, from sea we spied Two serpents, rank'd abreast, the seas divide, And smoothly sweep along the swelling tide.

Their flaming crests above the waves they show; Their bellies seem to burn the seas below; Their speckled tails advance to steer their course, And on the sounding sh.o.r.e the flying billows force.

And now the strand, and now the plain they held; Their ardent eyes with b.l.o.o.d.y streaks were fill'd; Their nimble tongues they brandish'd as they came, And lick'd their hissing jaws, that sputter'd flame.

We fled amaz'd; their destin'd way they take, And to Laoc.o.o.n and his children make; And first around the tender boys they wind, Then with their sharpen'd fangs their limbs and bodies grind.

The wretched father, running to their aid With pious haste, but vain, they next invade; Twice round his waist their winding volumes roll'd; And twice about his gasping throat they fold.

The priest thus doubly chok'd, their crests divide, And tow'ring o'er his head in triumph ride.

With both his hands he labors at the knots; His holy fillets the blue venom blots; His roaring fills the flitting air around.

Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound, He breaks his bands, the fatal altar flies, And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies.

Their tasks perform'd, the serpents quit their prey, And to the tow'r of Pallas make their way: Couch'd at her feet, they lie protected there By her large buckler and protended spear.

Amazement seizes all; the gen'ral cry Proclaims Laoc.o.o.n justly doom'd to die, Whose hand the will of Pallas had withstood, And dared to violate the sacred wood.

All vote t' admit the steed, that vows be paid And incense offer'd to th' offended maid.

A s.p.a.cious breach is made; the town lies bare; Some hoisting-levers, some the wheels prepare And fasten to the horse's feet; the rest With cables haul along th' unwieldly beast.

Each on his fellow for a.s.sistance calls; At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls, Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets crown'd, And choirs of virgins, sing and dance around.

Thus rais'd aloft, and then descending down, It enters o'er our heads, and threats the town.

O sacred city, built by hands divine!

O valiant heroes of the Trojan line!

Four times he struck: as oft the clashing sound Of arms was heard, and inward groans rebound.

Yet, mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate, We haul along the horse in solemn state; Then place the dire portent within the tow'r.

Ca.s.sandra cried, and curs'd th' unhappy hour; Foretold our fate; but, by the G.o.d's decree, All heard, and none believ'd the prophecy.

With branches we the fanes adorn, and waste, In jollity, the day ordain'd to be the last.

Meantime the rapid heav'ns roll'd down the light, And on the shaded ocean rush'd the night; Our men, secure, nor guards nor sentries held, But easy sleep their weary limbs compell'd.

The Grecians had embark'd their naval pow'rs From Tenedos, and sought our well-known sh.o.r.es, Safe under covert of the silent night, And guided by th' imperial galley's light; When Sinon, favor'd by the partial G.o.ds, Unlock'd the horse, and op'd his dark abodes; Restor'd to vital air our hidden foes, Who joyful from their long confinement rose.

Tysander bold, and Sthenelus their guide, And dire Ulysses down the cable slide: Then Thoas, Athamas, and Pyrrhus haste; Nor was the Podalirian hero last, Nor injur'd Menelaus, nor the fam'd Epeus, who the fatal engine fram'd.

A nameless crowd succeed; their forces join T' invade the town, oppress'd with sleep and wine.

Those few they find awake first meet their fate; Then to their fellows they unbar the gate.

"'T was in the dead of night, when sleep repairs Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares, When Hector's ghost before my sight appears: A b.l.o.o.d.y shroud he seem'd, and bath'd in tears; Such as he was, when, by Pelides slain, Thessalian coursers dragg'd him o'er the plain.

Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs were thrust Thro' the bor'd holes; his body black with dust; Unlike that Hector who return'd from toils Of war, triumphant, in Aeacian spoils, Or him who made the fainting Greeks retire, And launch'd against their navy Phrygian fire.

His hair and beard stood stiffen'd with his gore; And all the wounds he for his country bore Now stream'd afresh, and with new purple ran.

I wept to see the visionary man, And, while my trance continued, thus began: 'O light of Trojans, and support of Troy, Thy father's champion, and thy country's joy!

O, long expected by thy friends! from whence Art thou so late return'd for our defense?

Do we behold thee, wearied as we are With length of labors, and with toils of war?

After so many fun'rals of thy own Art thou restor'd to thy declining town?

But say, what wounds are these? What new disgrace Deforms the manly features of thy face?'

"To this the specter no reply did frame, But answer'd to the cause for which he came, And, groaning from the bottom of his breast, This warning in these mournful words express'd: 'O G.o.ddess-born! escape, by timely flight, The flames and horrors of this fatal night.

The foes already have possess'd the wall; Troy nods from high, and totters to her fall.

Enough is paid to Priam's royal name, More than enough to duty and to fame.

If by a mortal hand my father's throne Could be defended, 't was by mine alone.

Now Troy to thee commends her future state, And gives her G.o.ds companions of thy fate: From their a.s.sistance walls expect, Which, wand'ring long, at last thou shalt erect.'

He said, and brought me, from their blest abodes, The venerable statues of the G.o.ds, With ancient Vesta from the sacred choir, The wreaths and relics of th' immortal fire.

"Now peals of shouts come thund'ring from afar, Cries, threats, and loud laments, and mingled war: The noise approaches, tho' our palace stood Aloof from streets, encompa.s.s'd with a wood.

Louder, and yet more loud, I hear th' alarms Of human cries distinct, and clashing arms.

Fear broke my slumbers; I no longer stay, But mount the terrace, thence the town survey, And hearken what the frightful sounds convey.

Thus, when a flood of fire by wind is borne, Crackling it rolls, and mows the standing corn; Or deluges, descending on the plains, Sweep o'er the yellow year, destroy the pains Of lab'ring oxen and the peasant's gains; Unroot the forest oaks, and bear away Flocks, folds, and trees, and undistinguish'd prey: The shepherd climbs the cliff, and sees from far The wasteful ravage of the wat'ry war.

Then Hector's faith was manifestly clear'd, And Grecian frauds in open light appear'd.

The palace of Deiphobus ascends In smoky flames, and catches on his friends.

Ucalegon burns next: the seas are bright With splendor not their own, and shine with Trojan light.

New clamors and new clangors now arise, The sound of trumpets mix'd with fighting cries.

With frenzy seiz'd, I run to meet th' alarms, Resolv'd on death, resolv'd to die in arms, But first to gather friends, with them t' oppose (If fortune favor'd) and repel the foes; Spurr'd by my courage, by my country fir'd, With sense of honor and revenge inspir'd.

"Pantheus, Apollo's priest, a sacred name, Had scap'd the Grecian swords, and pa.s.s'd the flame: With relics loaden. to my doors he fled, And by the hand his tender grandson led.

'What hope, O Pantheus? whither can we run?

Where make a stand? and what may yet be done?'

Scarce had I said, when Pantheus, with a groan: 'Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town!

The fatal day, th' appointed hour, is come, When wrathful Jove's irrevocable doom Transfers the Trojan state to Grecian hands.

The fire consumes the town, the foe commands; And armed hosts, an unexpected force, Break from the bowels of the fatal horse.

Within the gates, proud Sinon throws about The flames; and foes for entrance press without, With thousand others, whom I fear to name, More than from Argos or Mycenae came.

To sev'ral posts their parties they divide; Some block the narrow streets, some scour the wide: The bold they kill, th' unwary they surprise; Who fights finds death, and death finds him who flies.

The warders of the gate but scarce maintain Th' unequal combat, and resist in vain.'

"I heard; and Heav'n, that well-born souls inspires, Prompts me thro' lifted swords and rising fires To run where clashing arms and clamor calls, And rush undaunted to defend the walls.

Ripheus and Iph'itus by my side engage, For valor one renown'd, and one for age.

Dymas and Hypanis by moonlight knew My motions and my mien, and to my party drew; With young Coroebus, who by love was led To win renown and fair Ca.s.sandra's bed, And lately brought his troops to Priam's aid, Forewarn'd in vain by the prophetic maid.

Whom when I saw resolv'd in arms to fall, And that one spirit animated all: 'Brave souls!' said I,- 'but brave, alas! in vain- Come, finish what our cruel fates ordain.

You see the desp'rate state of our affairs, And heav'n's protecting pow'rs are deaf to pray'rs.

The pa.s.sive G.o.ds behold the Greeks defile Their temples, and abandon to the spoil Their own abodes: we, feeble few, conspire To save a sinking town, involv'd in fire.

Then let us fall, but fall amidst our foes: Despair of life the means of living shows.'

So bold a speech incourag'd their desire Of death, and added fuel to their fire.

"As hungry wolves, with raging appet.i.te, Scour thro' the fields, nor fear the stormy night- Their whelps at home expect the promis'd food, And long to temper their dry chaps in blood- So rush'd we forth at once; resolv'd to die, Resolv'd, in death, the last extremes to try.

We leave the narrow lanes behind, and dare Th' unequal combat in the public square: Night was our friend; our leader was despair.

What tongue can tell the slaughter of that night?

What eyes can weep the sorrows and affright?

An ancient and imperial city falls: The streets are fill'd with frequent funerals; Houses and holy temples float in blood, And hostile nations make a common flood.

Not only Trojans fall; but, in their turn, The vanquish'd triumph, and the victors mourn.

Ours take new courage from despair and night: Confus'd the fortune is, confus'd the fight.

All parts resound with tumults, plaints, and fears; And grisly Death in sundry shapes appears.

Androgeos fell among us, with his band, Who thought us Grecians newly come to land.

'From whence,' said he, 'my friends, this long delay?

You loiter, while the spoils are borne away: Our ships are laden with the Trojan store; And you, like truants, come too late ash.o.r.e.'