The Aeneids of Virgil Part 20

And now if thou wouldst wage the war, if thus thy soul is set, 400 Thy longing shall have whatsoe'er this craft of mine may lend; Whatever in iron may be done, or silver-golden blend; Whatever wind and fire may do: I prithee pray no more, But trust the glory of thy might."

So when his words wore o'er He gave the enfolding that she would, and shed upon her breast He lay, and over all his limbs he drew the sleepy rest.

But when the midmost night was worn, and slumber, past its prime, Had faded out, in sooth it was that woman's rising-time, Who needs must prop her life with rock and slender mastery 409 That Pallas gives: she wakes the ash and flames that smouldering lie, And, adding night unto her toil, driveth her maids to win Long task before its kindled light, that she may keep from sin Her bride-bed; that her little ones well waxen-up may be.

Not otherwise that Might of Fire, no sluggard more than she, To win his art and handicraft from that soft bed arose.

Upon the flank of Sicily there hangs an island close To Lipari of aeolus, with shear-hewn smoky steep; Beneath it thunder caves and dens aetnaean, eaten deep With forges of the Cyclops: thence men hear the anvils cry 'Neath mighty strokes, and through the cave the hissing sparkles fly 420 From iron of the Chalybes, and pants the forge with flame.

The house is Vulcan's, and the land Vulcania hath to name.

Thither the Master of the Fire went down from upper air, Where Cyclop folk in mighty den were forging iron gear; Pyracmon of the naked limbs, Brontes and Steropes.

A thunderbolt half-fashioned yet was in the hands of these, Part-wrought, suchwise as many an one the Father casts on earth From all the heaven, but otherwhere unfinished from the birth, Three rays they wrought of writhen storm, three of the watery wrack; Nor do the three of ruddy flame nor windy winging lack: 430 And now the work of fearful flash, and roar, and dread they won, And blent amid their craftsmanship the flame that followeth on.

But otherwhere they dight the wain and winged wheels of Mars, Wherewith the men and walls of men he waketh up to wars.

There angry Pallas's arms they wrought and aegis full of fear, And set the gold and serpent scales, and did with mighty care The knitted adders, and for breast of very G.o.d did deck The Gorgon rolling eyen still above her severed neck.

"Do all away," he said, "lay by the labour so far done; Cyclops of aetna, turn your minds to this one thing alone: 440 Arms for a great man must be wrought; betake ye to your might; Betake ye to your nimble hands and all your mastery's sleight, And hurry tarrying into haste."

No more he spake: all they Fall swift to work and portion out the labour of the day: The brazen rivers run about with metal of the gold, And soft the Chalyb bane-master flows in the forges' hold.

A mighty shield they set on foot to match all weapons held By Latin men, and sevenfold ring on ring about it weld.

Meanwhile, in windy bellows' womb some in the breezes take And give them forth, some dip the bra.s.s all hissing in the lake, 450 And all the cavern is agroan with strokes on anvil laid.

There turn and turn about betwixt, with plenteous might to aid, They rear their arms; with grip of tongs they turn the iron o'er.

But while the Lemnian Father thus speeds on the aeolean sh.o.r.e The lovely light Evander stirs amid his lowly house, And morning song of eave-dwellers from sleep the king doth rouse.

Riseth that ancient man of days and on his kirtle does, And both his feet he binds about with bonds of Tyrrhene shoes; Then Tegeaean sword he girds to shoulder and to side, And on the left he flings aback the cloak of panther-hide. 460 Moreover, from the threshold step goes either watchful ward, Two dogs to wit, that follow close the footsteps of their lord.

So to the chamber of his guest the hero goes his way, Well mindful of his spoken word and that well-promised stay.

Nor less aeneas was afoot betimes that morning-tide, And Pallas and Achates went each one their lord beside.

So met, they join their right hands there and in the house sit down, And win the joy of spoken words, that lawful now hath grown; And thuswise speaks Evander first:

"O mightiest duke of Trojan men,--for surely, thou being safe, 470 My heart may never more believe in Troy-town's vanquishing,-- The battle-help that I may give is but a little thing For such a name: by Tuscan stream on this side are we bound; On that side come Rutulian arms to gird our walls with sound.

But 'tis my rede to join to you a mighty folk of fight, A wealthy lordship: chance unhoped this hope for us hath dight; So draw thou thither whereunto the Fates are calling on.

Not far hence is a place of men, on rock of yore agone Built up; Agylla's city 'tis, where glorious folk of war, The Lydian folk, on Tuscan hills pitched their abode of yore. 480 A many years of blooming once they had, until the king Mezentius held them 'neath his pride and cruel warfaring.

Why tell those deaths unspeakable, and many a tyrant's deed?

May the G.o.ds store them for the heads of him and all his seed!

Yea, yea, dead corpses would he join to bodies living yet, And hand to hand, O misery! and mouth to mouth would set; There, drenched with gore and drenched with dew of death, must they abide, A foul embrace unspeakable, and long and long they died.

Worn out at last, his folk in arms beset his house about, And him therein all mad with rage, cut of his following rout, 490 And cast the wildfire therewithal over his roof on high: But he, amidst the slaughter slipped, to fields of Rutuli Made shift to flee, and there is held a guest by Turnus' sword.

So by just anger raised today Etruria is abroad, Crying with Mars to aid, 'Give back the king to pay the cost!'

aeneas, I will make thee now the captain of their host: For down the whole coast goes the roar from out their ship-host's pack; They cry to bear the banners forth; but them still holdeth back The ancient seer, thus singing Fate: _Maeonia's chosen peers,_ _The heart and flower of men of old, whom grief's just measure bears_ 500 _Against the foe; souls that your king hath stirred to righteous wrath,_ _No man of Italy is meet to lead this army forth;_ _Seek outland captains._ Then, indeed, the Tuscan war array, Feared by such warnings of the G.o.ds, amidst these meadows lay.

Tarchon himself hath hither sent sweet speakers, bearing me Their lordships' kingly staff and crown, and signs of royalty; And bidding take the Tuscan land and join their camp of war.

But eld adull with winter frost and spent with days of yore, My body over-old for deeds begrudged such government.

I would have stirred my son, but he, with Sabine mother blent, 510 Shared blood of this Italian land: but thee the Fates endow With years and race full meet hereto; the G.o.ds call on thee now.

Go forth, O captain valorous of Italy and Troy.

Yea, I will give thee Pallas here, my hope and darling joy, And bid him 'neath thy mastery learn in battle to be bold, And win the heavy work of Mars, and all thy deeds behold; And, wondering at thy valiancy, win through his earliest years.

Two hundred knights of Arcady, the bloom of all it bears, I give thee; in his own name, too, like host shall Pallas bring."

Scarce had he said, and still their gaze unto the earth did cling, 520 aeneas of Anchises born and his Achates true, For many thoughts of matters hard their minds were running through, When Cytherea gave a sign amid the open sky; For from the left a flash of light went quivering suddenly, And sound went with it, and all things in utter turmoil fared, And clangour of the Tyrrhene trump along the heavens blared.

They look up; ever and anon a mighty clash they hear, And gleams they see betwixt the clouds, amid the sky-land clear, The glitter of the arms of G.o.d, the thunder of their clang.

The man of Troy, while others' hearts amazed and fearful hang, 530 Knoweth the sound, the promised help, his G.o.ddess-mother's meed.

He saith: "Yea, verily, O host, to ask is little need What hap this portent draweth on: the G.o.ds will have me wend; The G.o.d that made me promised erst such heavenly signs to send If war were toward; and through the sky she promised to bear down Arms Vulcan-fashioned for my need.

Woe's me for poor Laurentium's folk! what death, what b.l.o.o.d.y graves!

--Ah, Turnus, thou shalt pay it me!--how many 'neath thy waves, O Father Tiber, shalt thou roll the shields and helms of men, And bodies of the mighty ones! Cry war, oath-breakers, then!" 540

And as he spake the word he rose from off the lofty throne, And the slaked fire of Hercules roused on the altar-stone; And joyfully he drew anear the G.o.d of yesterday And little House-G.o.ds: chosen ewes in manner due they slay, Evander and the youth of Troy together side by side.

Then to the ships they wend their ways, where yet their fellows bide: There men to follow him in fight he chooseth from the peers, The flower of hardy hearts; the rest the downlong water bears; Deedless they swim adown the stream, Ascanius home to bring The tidings of his coming sire and matters flourishing. 550

But horses get such Teucrian men as are for Tyrrhene mead; By lot they choose aeneas one which yellow lion's weed Goes all about; full fair it shone, for it was golden-clawed.

Then sudden through the little town the rumour flies abroad, That knights will speedily ride forth to Tyrrhene kingly stead.

Then fear redoubleth mothers' prayers, and nigher draweth dread In peril's hand, and greater still the face of Mars doth grow.

Father Evander strains the hand of him that needs must go, Clinging with tears insatiate, and such a word doth say: "O me! would Jove bring back again the years long worn away! 560 Were I as when the foremost foes upon Praeneste's field I felled, and burnt victoriously a heap of shield on shield: When with this very hand I sent King Herilus to h.e.l.l, Whose dam, Feronia, at his birth,--wild is the tale to tell,-- Had given him gift of threefold life; three times the sword to shake, And thrice to fall upon the field: yet did this right hand take That threefold life away from him, thrice spoiled him of his gear.

O were I such, ne'er would I break from thine embracing dear, O son; nor had Mezentius erst, the tyrant neighbour lord, In my despite so many deaths wrought with his cruel sword, 570 Nor widowed this our city here of such a host of sons.

But ye, O G.o.ds!--thou Mightiest, King of all heavenly ones, O Jove, have pity now, I pray, upon the Arcadian King, And hear a father's prayers! for if your mighty governing,-- If Fate shall keep my Pallas safe, and I may live to see His face again,--if he return to keep our unity, Then may I live, and any toil, such as ye will, abide!

But, Fortune, if thou threatenest ill, and misery betide, Then let me now, yea, now indeed, the cruel life break through, While yet my fear is unfulfilled and hope may yet come true; 580 While thee, beloved joy of eld, I wrap mine arms around, Ere yet the tale of evil hap mine ancient ears may wound."

Thus at their last departing-tide the father poured the prayer, Whom, fainting now, the serving-men back within doors must bear; While forth from out the open gate the host of hors.e.m.e.n ride, aeneas and Achates leal in forefront of their pride, And then the other Trojan lords: amidst the company, In cloak adorned and painted arms, was Pallas fair to see: E'en such as Lucifer, when he bathed in the ocean stream, The light beloved of Venus well o'er every starry beam, 590 Hath raised his holy head in heaven and down the darkness rent.

The fearful mothers on the walls their eyen after sent, Following the dusty cloud of them and ranks of glittering bra.s.s.

But mid the thicket places there by nighest road they pa.s.s Unto their end in weed of war: with shout and serried band The clattering hooves of four-foot things shake down the dusty land.

There is a mighty thicket-place by chilly Caeres' side, By ancient dread of fathers gone held holy far and wide: A place that hollow hills shut in and pine-wood black begirds.

Men say that to Silva.n.u.s erst, the G.o.d of fields and herds, 600 The old Pelasgi hallowed it, and made a holy day, E'en those who in the time agone on Latin marches lay.

No great way hence the Tuscan folk and Tarcho held them still In guarded camp; the host of them from rising of a hill Might now be seen, as far and wide they spread about the field.

Father aeneas and his folk, the mighty under shield, Speed hither, and forewearied now their steeds and bodies tend.

But through the clouds of heavenly way doth fair white Venus wend, Bearing the gift; who when she saw in hidden valley there Her son afar, apart from men by river cool and fair, 610 Then kind she came before his eyes, and in such words she spake: "These promised gifts, my husband's work, O son, I bid thee take: So shalt thou be all void of doubt, O son, when presently Laurentines proud and Turnus fierce thou bidst the battle try."

So spake the Cytherean one and sought her son's embrace, And hung the beaming arms upon an oak that stood in face.

But he, made glad by G.o.dhead's gift, and such a glory great, Marvelleth and rolleth o'er it all his eyes insatiate, And turns the pieces o'er and o'er his hands and arms between; The helm that flasheth flames abroad with crest so dread beseen: 620 The sword to do the deeds of Fate; the hard-wrought plates of bra.s.s, Blood-red and huge; yea, e'en as when the bright sun brings to pa.s.s Its burning through the coal-blue clouds and shines o'er field and fold: The light greaves forged and forged again of silver-blend and gold: The spear, and, thing most hard to tell, the plating of the shield.

For there the tale of Italy and Roman joy afield That Master of the Fire had wrought, not unlearned of the seers, Or blind to see the days before. The men of coming years, Ascanius stem, all foughten fields, were wrought in due array.

In the green den of Mavors there the fostering she-wolf lay, 630 The twin lads sporting round the beast, clung to her udders there, And sucked the nursing mother-wolf, and nothing knew of fear; But she, with lithe neck turned about, now this now that caressed, And either body with her tongue for hardy shaping pressed.

Rome had he done anigh thereto and Sabine maidens caught From concourse of the hollow seats when roundway games were wrought There for the sons of Romulus the sudden war upstarts With Tatius, the old king of days, and Cures' hardy hearts.

Then those two kings, the battle quenched, yet clad in battle-gear, Stand with the bowl in hand before the fire of Jupiter, 640 As each to each o'er slaughtered sow the troth of peace they plight.

Anigh is Metius piecemeal dragged by foursome chariots light.

--Ah, Alban, by the troth of words 'twere better to abide!-- There Tullus strews his lying flesh about the thicket wide, Nor sprinkling of a traitor's blood the bramble-bushes lack.

There was Porsena bidding men take outcast Tarquin back, The while his mighty leaguer lay about the city's weal.

For freedom there aeneas' sons were rushing on the steel: As full of wrath, as one who threats, might ye behold his frown, Because that Cocles was of heart to break the bridge adown; 650 And Cloelia from her bursten bonds was swimming o'er the flood.

On topmost of Tarpeian burg the warden Manlius stood Before the house of G.o.d, and held the Capitol high-set; Whereon with straw of Romulus the roof was bristling yet.

There fluttering mid the golden porch the silver goose was done, The seer that told of Gaulish feet unto the threshold won: Then through the brake the Gauls were come, and held the castle's height, Beneath the shielding of the mirk and gift of shadowy night.

All golden are the locks of these, and golden is their gear, 659 And fair they shine in welted coats; their milk-white necks do bear The twisted gold; each one in hand two Alpine spears doth wield, And guarded are their bodies well with plenteous length of shield.

The Salii in their dancing game; the naked Luperci, With crests that bore the tuft of wool and shields from out the sky, There had he wrought: the mothers chaste in softly-gliding car Bore holy things the city through. Yea, he had wrought afar The very house of Tartarus, and doors of Dis the deep, And dooms of evil: there wert thou hung on the beetling steep, O Catiline, and quaking sore 'neath many a fiendly face; While Cato gave the good their laws in happy hidden place. 670

The image of the swelling sea amidst of these there lay All golden, with the blue o'erfoamed with flecks of h.o.a.ry spray, And dolphins shining silver-white with tail-stroke swept the wave, And gathered in an orbed band the flowing waters clave.

And in the midst were brazen fleets and show of Actium's wars And all Leucate set a-boil with ordered game of Mars There might ye see; and all the flood lit up with golden light.

Augustus Caesar, leading on Italian men to fight With Father-folk, and Household G.o.ds, and G.o.ds of greater name, Stood high on deck: his joyful brow flashed forth a twofold flame, 680 His father's star above his head is shining glory-clear.

With wind to aid and G.o.d to aid, Agrippa otherwhere Leads on the host from high; whose brows with glorious battle-sign Are decked; for with the crown of beaks, the ship-host's prize, they shine.

But Antony, with outland force and arms wrought diversely, Victorious from the morning-folks and ruddy-stranded sea, Bore Egypt and the Eastland might and Bactria's outer ends; And after him--O shame to tell!--a wife of Egypt wends.

They rush together; all the sea is beaten into foam, Torn by the great three-tyned beaks and oar-blades driven home: 690 They seek the deep: ye might have thought that uptorn Cyclades Swam o'er the main, that mountains met high mountains on the seas, With such a world of towered ships fall on those folks of war.

The hempen flame they fling from hand; they cast the dart afar Of winged steel, and Neptune's lea reddens with death anew.

The Queen amidst calls on her host with timbrel fashioned due In Egypt's guise, nor looks aback the adders twain to see; Barking Anubis, shapes of G.o.d wild-wrought and diversely 'Gainst Neptune and 'gainst Venus fair, and 'gainst Minerva's weal Put forth the spear; and Mavors' wrath was fashioned forth in steel 700 Amidst the fight: the Dreadful Ones stooped evil-wrought from heaven, And Discord stalked all glad at heart beneath her mantle riven; And after her, red scourge in hand, did dire Bellona go.