The Aeneids of Virgil Part 22

Saith Nisus: "Nay, I feared of thee no such a thing, I swear, No such ill thought; so may he bring thy friend back with the prize, Great Jove, or whosoe'er beholds these things with equal eyes.

But if some hap (thou seest herein how many such may fall), If any hap, if any G.o.d bear me the end of all, 210 Fain were I thou wert left: thine age is worthier life-day's gain; Let there be one to buy me back s.n.a.t.c.hed from amidst the slain, And give me earth: or if e'en that our wonted fortune ban, Do thou the rites, and raise the tomb unto the missing man; Nor make me of thy mother's woe the fashioner accurst: She who, O friend, alone of all our many mothers durst To follow thee, nor heeded aught of great Acestes' town."

He said: "For weaving of delay vain is thy shuttle thrown; Nor is my heart so turned about that I will leave the play: Let us be doing!"

Therewithal he stirs the guards, and they 220 Come up in turn, wherewith he leaves the warding-stead behind, And goes with Nisus, and the twain set forth the prince to find.

All other creatures, laid asleep o'er all the earthly soil, Let slip the cares from off their hearts, forgetful of their toil, But still the dukes of Trojan men and chosen folk of war Held counsel of that heavy tide that on the kingdom bore, What was to do, or who would go aeneas' messenger.

There shield on arm, and leaned upon the length of shafted spear, They stand amid their stronghold's mead: in eager haste the twain, Nisus and young Euryalus, the presence crave to gain, 230 For matters great and worth the time: straight doth Iulus take Those hurried men to him, and bids that Nisus speech should wake.

Then saith the son of Hyrtacus: "Just-hearted, hearken now, Folk of aeneas, neither look upon the things we show As by our years. The Rutuli slackened by wine and sleep Lie hushed, and we have seen whereby upon our way to creep, E'en by the double-roaded gate that near the sea-strand lies: Their fires are slaked, and black the smoke goes upward to the skies.

If ye will suffer us to use this fortune that doth fall We will go seek aeneas now and Pallanteum's wall: 240 Ye shall behold him and his spoils from mighty victory wrought Come hither presently: the way shall fail our feet in nought, For we have seen the city's skirts amid the valleys dim In daily hunt, whereby we learned the river's uplong brim."

Then spake Aletes weighty-wise, heart-ripe with plenteous eld: "G.o.ds of our fathers, under whom the weal of Troy is held, Ye have not doomed all utterly the Teucrian folk undone, When ye for us such souls of youth, such hardy hearts have won."

So saying by shoulder and by hand he took the goodly twain, While all his countenance and cheeks were wet with plenteous rain, 250 "What gifts may I deem worthy, men, to pay such hearts athirst For utmost glory? certainly the fairest and the first The G.o.ds and your own hearts shall grant: the rest your lord shall give, G.o.dly aeneas; and this man with all his life to live, Ascanius here, no memory of such desert shall lack."

"But I," Ascanius breaketh in, "whose father brought aback Is all my heal--Nisus, I pray by those great G.o.ds of mine, By him of old, a.s.saracus, by h.o.a.ry Vesta's shrine, Bring back my father! whatsoe'er is left with me today Of Fate or Faith, into your b.r.e.a.s.t.s I give it all away. 260 O give me back the sight of him, and grief is all gone by.

Two cups of utter silver wrought and rough with imagery I give you, which my father took from wracked Arisbe's hold; Two tripods eke, two talents' weight of fire-beproven gold; A beaker of the time agone, Sidonian Dido's gift.

But if we hap to win the day and spoil of battle shift, If we lay hand on Italy and staff of kingship bear,-- Ye saw the horse that bore today gold Turnus and his gear, That very same, the shield withal, and helm-crest ruddy dyed, Thy gifts, O Nisus, from the spoil henceforth I set aside. 270 Moreover of the mother-folk twice six most excellent My sire shall give, and captive men with all their armament, And therewithal the kingly field, Latinus' garden-place.

But thou, O boy most worshipful, whom nigher in the race Mine own years follow, thee I take unto mine inmost heart, Embracing thee my very friend in all to have a part; Nor any glory of my days without thee shall I seek, Whether I fashion peace or war; all that I do or speak I trust to thee."

In answer thus Euryalus 'gan say: "No day henceforth of all my life shall prove me fallen away 280 From this my deed: only may fate in kindly wise befall, Nor stand against me: now one gift I ask thee over all: I have a mother born on earth from Priam's ancient race, Who wretched in the land of Troy had no abiding-place, Nor in Acesta's steadfast wall; with me she still must wend: Her, who knows nought of this my risk, whatever may be the end Unto thy safeguard do I leave: Night and thy right hand there Be witness that my mother's tears I had no heart to bear.

But solace thou her lack, I pray; comfort her desert need; Yea let me bear this hope with me, and boldlier shall I speed 290 Amid all haps."

Touched to the heart the Dardans might not keep Their tears aback, and chief of all did fair Iulus weep, The image of his father's love so flashed upon his soul: And therewithal he spake the word:

"All things I duly answer for worthy thy deed of fame; Thy mother shall my mother be, nor lack but e'en the name To be Creusa: store of thanks no little hath she won That bore thee. Whatsoever hap thy valorous deed bear on, By this my head, whereon my sire is wont the troth to plight, Whatever I promised thee come back, with all things wrought aright, 300 Thy mother and thy kin shall bide that very same reward."

So spake he, weeping, and did off his shoulder-girded sword All golden, that with wondrous craft Lycaon out of Crete Had fashioned, fitting it withal in ivory scabbard meet.

And Mnestheus unto Nisus gives a stripped-off lion's hide And s.h.a.ggy coat; and helm for helm giveth Aletes tried.

Then forth they wend in weed of war, and they of first estate, Young men and old, went forth with them, and leave them at the gate With following vows; and therewithal Iulus, goodly-wrought, Who far beyond his tender years had mind of manly thought, 310 Charged them with many messages unto his father's ear,-- Vain words the night-winds bore away and gave the clouds to bear.

Forth now they wend and pa.s.s the ditch, and through the mirk night gain The baneful camp: yet ere their death they too shall be the bane Of many: bodies laid in sleep and wine they see strewed o'er The herbage, and the battle-cars upreared along the sh.o.r.e; And mid the reins and wheels thereof are men and weapons blent With wine-jars: so Hyrtacides such word from tooth-hedge sent:

"Euryalus, the hand must dare, the time cries on the deed; Here lies the way: do thou afar keep watch and have good heed, 320 Lest any hand aback of us arise 'gainst thee and me: Here will I make a waste forsooth, and wide thy way shall be."

He speaks, and hushes all his voice, and so with naked blade Falls on proud Rhamnes; who, as happed, on piled-up carpets laid, Amid his sleep was blowing forth great voice from inner breast.

A king he was; king Turnus' seer, of all beloved best; Yet nought availed his wizardry to drive his bane away.

Three thralls unware, as heeding nought amid the spears they lay, He endeth: Remus' shield-bearer withal and charioteer, 329 Caught 'neath the very steeds: his sword their drooping necks doth shear; Then from their lord he takes the head, and leaves the trunk to spout Gushes of blood: the earth is warm with black gore all about.

The beds are wet. There Lamyrus and Lamus doth he slay, And young Serra.n.u.s fair of face, who played the night away For many an hour, until his limbs 'neath G.o.d's abundance failed, And down he lay: ah! happier 'twere if he had still prevailed To make the live-long night one game until the morning cold.

As famished lion Nisus fares amid the sheep-filled fold, When ravening hunger driveth on; the soft things, dumb with dread, He draggeth off, devouring them, and foams from mouth blood-red. 340

Nor less the death Euryalus hath wrought; for all aflame He wades in wrath, and on the way slays many lacking name: Fadus, Herbesus therewithal, Rhoetus and Abaris; Unwary they: but Rhoetus waked, and looking on all this, Fulfilled of fear was hiding him behind a wine-jar pressed: The foe was on him as he rose; the sword-blade pierced his breast Up to the hilts, and drew aback abundant stream of death.

His purple life he poureth forth, and, dying, vomiteth Blent blood and wine. On death-stealth still onward the Trojan went, And toward Messapus' leaguer drew, where watch-fires well-nigh spent He saw, and horses all about, tethered in order due, 351 Cropping the gra.s.s: but Nisus spake in hasty words and few, Seeing him borne away by l.u.s.t of slaughter overmuch:

"Hold we our hands, for dawn our foe hasteth the world to touch: Deep have we drunk of death, and cut a road amid the foe."

The gear of men full goodly-wrought of silver through and through They leave behind, and bowls therewith, and carpets fashioned fair.

Natheless Euryalus caught up the prophet Rhamnes' gear And gold-bossed belt, which Caedicus, the wealthy man of old, Sent to Tiburtine Remulus, that he his name might hold, 360 Though far he were; who, dying, gave his grandson their delight; And he being dead, Rutulian men won them in war and fight These now he takes, and all for nought does on his valorous breast, And dons Messapus' handy helm with goodly-fashioned crest, Wherewith they leave the camp and gain the road that safer lay.

But hors.e.m.e.n from the Latin town meantime were on the way, Sent on before to carry word to Turnus, lord and king, While in array amid the fields the host was tarrying.

Three hundred knights, all shielded folk, 'neath Volscens do they fare.

And now they drew anigh the camp and 'neath its rampart were, 370 When from afar they saw the twain on left-hand footway lurk; Because Euryalus' fair helm mid glimmer of the mirk Betrayed the heedless youth, and flashed the moonbeams back again.

Nor was the sight unheeded: straight cries Volscens midst his men: "Stand ho! why thus afoot, and why in weapons do ye wend, And whither go ye?"

Nought had they an answer back to send, But speed their fleeing mid the brake, and trust them to the night; The hors.e.m.e.n cast themselves before each crossway known aright, And every outgoing there is with guard they girdle round. 379 Rough was the wood; a thicket-place where black holm-oaks abound, And with the tanglement of thorns choked up on every side, The road but glimmering faintly out from where the foot-tracks hide.

The blackness of overhanging boughs and heavy battle-prey Hinder Euryalus, and fear beguiles him of the way.

Nisus comes out, and now had won unwitting from the foe, And reached the place from Alba's name called Alban Meadows now; Where King Latinus had as then his high-built herd-houses.

So there he stands, and, looking round, his fellow nowhere sees:

"Hapless Euryalus! ah me, where have I left thy face?

Where shall I seek thee, gathering up that tangle of the ways 390 Through the blind wood?"

So therewithal he turns upon his track, Noting his footsteps, and amid the hushed brake strays aback, Hearkening the horse-hoofs and halloos and calls of following folk.

Nor had he long abided there, ere on his ears outbroke Great clamour, and Euryalus he sees, whom all the band Hath taken, overcome by night, and blindness of the land, And wildering tumult: there in vain he strives in battle-play.

Ah, what to do? What force to dare, what stroke to s.n.a.t.c.h away The youth? Or shall he cast himself amid the swords to die, And hasten down the way of wounds to lovely death anigh? 400 Then swiftly, with his arm drawn back and brandishing his spear, He looks up at the moon aloft, and thuswise poureth prayer:

"To aid, thou G.o.ddess! Stay my toil, and let the end be good!

Latonian glory of the stars, fair watcher of the wood, If ever any gift for me upon thine altars gave My father Hyrtacus; if I for thee the hunting drave; If aught I hung upon thy dome, or set upon thy roof, Give me to break their gathered host, guide thou my steel aloof!"

He spake, and in the shafted steel set all his body's might, 409 And hurled it: flying forth the spear clave through the dusk of night, And, reaching Sulmo turned away, amidst his back it flew, And brake there; but the splintering shaft his very heart pierced through, And o'er he rolleth, vomiting the hot stream from his breast: Then heave his flanks with long-drawn sobs and cold he lies at rest.

On all sides then they peer about: but, whetted on thereby, The quivering shaft from o'er his ear again he letteth fly.

Amid their wilderment the spear whistleth through either side Of Tagus' temples, and wet-hot amidst his brain doth bide.

Fierce Volscens rageth, seeing none who might the spear-shot send, Or any man on whom his wrath and heat of heart to spend. 420

"But thou, at least, with thine hot blood shalt pay the due award For both," he cries; and therewithal, swift drawing forth the sword, He falleth on Euryalus. Then, wild with all affright, Nisus shrieks out, and cares no more to cloak himself with night, And hath no heart to bear against so great a misery.

"On me, me! Here--I did the deed! turn ye the sword on me, Rutulians!--all the guilt is mine: he might not do nor dare.

May heaven and those all-knowing stars true witness of it bear!

Only with too exceeding love he loved his hapless friend." 429

Such words he poured forth, but the sword no less its way doth wend, Piercing the flank and rending through the goodly breast of him; And rolls Euryalus in death: in plenteous blood they swim His lovely limbs, his drooping neck low on his shoulder lies: As when the purple field-flower faints before the plough and dies, Or poppies when they hang their heads on wearied stems outworn, When haply by the rainy load their might is overborne.

Then Nisus falls amidst of them, and Volscens seeks alone For aught that any man may do: save him he heedeth none.

About him throng the foe: all round the strokes on him are laid To thrust him off: but on he bears, whirling his lightning blade, 440 Till full in Volscens' shouting mouth he burieth it at last, Tearing the life from out the foe, as forth his own life pa.s.sed.

Then, ploughed with wounds, he cast him down upon his lifeless friend, And so in quietness of death gat resting in the end.

O happy twain, if anywise my song-craft may avail, From out the memory of the world no day shall blot your tale, While on the rock-fast Capitol aeneas' house abides, And while the Roman Father still the might of empire guides.

The Rutuli, victorious now with spoils and prey of war, But sorrowing still, amid the camp the perished Volscens bore. 450 Nor in the camp was grief the less, when they on Rhamnes came Bloodless; and many a chief cut off by one death and the same; Serra.n.u.s dead and Numa dead: a many then they swarm About the dead and dying men, and places wet and warm With new-wrought death, and runnels full with plenteous foaming blood.

Then one by one the spoils they note; the glittering helm and good Messapus owned: the gear such toil had won back from the dead.

But timely now Aurora left t.i.thonus' saffron bed, And over earth went scattering wide the light of new-born day: The sun-flood flowed, and all the world unveiled by daylight lay. 460

Then Turnus, clad in arms himself, wakes up the host to arms, And every lord to war-array bids on his brazen swarms; And men with diverse tidings told their battle-anger whet.

Moreover (miserable sight!) on upraised spears they set Those heads, and follow them about with most abundant noise, Euryalus and Nisus dead.

Meanwhile aeneas' hardy sons upon their leftward wall Stand in array; for on the right the river girdeth all.

In woe they ward the ditches deep, and on the towers on high 469 Stand sorrowing; for those heads upreared touch all their hearts anigh, Known overwell to their sad eyes mid the black flow of gore.

Therewith in winged fluttering haste, the trembling city o'er Goes tell-tale Fame, and swift amidst the mother's ears doth glide; And changed she was, nor in her bones the life-heat would abide: The shuttle falls from out her hand, unrolled the web doth fall, And with a woman's hapless shrieks she flieth to the wall: Rending her hair, beside herself, she faced the front of fight, Heedless of men, and haps of death, and all the weapons' flight, And there the very heavens she filled with wailing of her grief:

"O son, and do I see thee so? Thou rest and last relief 480 Of my old days! hadst thou the heart to leave me lone and spent?

O cruel! might I see thee not on such a peril sent?

Was there no time for one last word amid my misery?

A prey for Latin fowl and dogs how doth thy body lie, On lands uncouth! Not e'en may I, thy mother, streak thee, son, Thy body dead; or close thine eyes, or wash thy wounds well won, Or shroud thee in the cloth I wrought for thee by night and day, When hastening on the weaving-task I kept eld's cares at bay?