The Works of Lord Byron Volume I Part 46

Then in his warm embrace the boys he press'd, And, quivering, strain'd them to his aged breast; With tears the burning cheek of each bedew'd, And, sobbing, thus his first discourse renew'd:-- 130 "What gift, my countrymen, what martial prize, Can we bestow, which you may not despise?

Our Deities the first best boon have given-- Internal virtues are the gift of Heaven.

What poor rewards can bless your deeds on earth, Doubtless await such young, exalted worth; aeneas and Ascanius shall combine To yield applause far, far surpa.s.sing mine."

Iulus then:--"By all the powers above!

By those Penates, who my country love! 140 By h.o.a.ry Vesta's sacred Fane, I swear, My hopes are all in you, ye generous pair!

Restore my father, to my grateful sight, And all my sorrows, yield to one delight.

Nisus! two silver goblets are thine own, Sav'd from Arisba's stately domes o'erthrown; My sire secured them on that fatal day, Nor left such bowls an Argive robber's prey.

Two ma.s.sy tripods, also, shall be thine, Two talents polish'd from the glittering mine; 150 An ancient cup, which Tyrian Dido gave, While yet our vessels press'd the Punic wave: But when the hostile chiefs at length bow down, When great aeneas wears Hesperia's crown, The casque, the buckler, and the fiery steed Which Turnus guides with more than mortal speed, Are thine; no envious lot shall then be cast, I pledge my word, irrevocably past: Nay more, twelve slaves, and twice six captive dames, To soothe thy softer hours with amorous flames, 160 And all the realms, which now the Latins sway, The labours of to-night shall well repay.

But thou, my generous youth, whose tender years Are near my own, whose worth my heart reveres, Henceforth, affection, sweetly thus begun, Shall join our bosoms and our souls in one; Without thy aid, no glory shall be mine, Without thy dear advice, no great design; Alike, through life, esteem'd, thou G.o.dlike boy, In war my bulwark, and in peace my joy." 170

To him Euryalus:--"No day shall shame The rising glories which from this I claim.

Fortune may favour, or the skies may frown, But valour, spite of fate, obtains renown.

Yet, ere from hence our eager steps depart, One boon I beg, the nearest to my heart: My mother, sprung from Priam's royal line, Like thine enn.o.bled, hardly less divine, Nor Troy nor king Acestes' realms restrain Her feeble age from dangers of the main; 180 Alone she came, all selfish fears above, [vii]

A bright example of maternal love.

Unknown, the secret enterprise I brave, Lest grief should bend my parent to the grave; From this alone no fond adieus I seek, No fainting mother's lips have press'd my cheek; By gloomy Night and thy right hand I vow, Her parting tears would shake my purpose now: [viii]

Do thou, my prince, her failing age sustain, In thee her much-lov'd child may live again; 190 Her dying hours with pious conduct bless, a.s.sist her wants, relieve her fond distress: So dear a hope must all my soul enflame, [ix]

To rise in glory, or to fall in fame."

Struck with a filial care so deeply felt, In tears at once the Trojan warriors melt; Faster than all, Iulus' eyes o'erflow!

Such love was his, and such had been his woe.

"All thou hast ask'd, receive," the Prince replied; "Nor this alone, but many a gift beside. 200 To cheer thy mother's years shall be my aim, Creusa's [2] style but wanting to the dame; Fortune an adverse wayward course may run, But bless'd thy mother in so dear a son.

Now, by my life!--my Sire's most sacred oath-- To thee I pledge my full, my firmest troth, All the rewards which once to thee were vow'd, [x]

If thou should'st fall, on her shall be bestow'd."

Thus spoke the weeping Prince, then forth to view A gleaming falchion from the sheath he drew; 210 Lycaon's utmost skill had grac'd the steel, For friends to envy and for foes to feel: A tawny hide, the Moorish lion's spoil, [xi]

Slain 'midst the forest in the hunter's toil, Mnestheus to guard the elder youth bestows, [xii]

And old Alethes' casque defends his brows; Arm'd, thence they go, while all th' a.s.sembl'd train, To aid their cause, implore the G.o.ds in vain. [xiii]

More than a boy, in wisdom and in grace, Iulus holds amidst the chiefs his place: 220 His prayer he sends; but what can prayers avail, Lost in the murmurs of the sighing gale? [xiv]

The trench is pa.s.s'd, and favour'd by the night, Through sleeping foes, they wheel their wary flight.

When shall the sleep of many a foe be o'er?

Alas! some slumber, who shall wake no more!

Chariots and bridles, mix'd with arms, are seen, And flowing flasks, and scatter'd troops between: Bacchus and Mars, to rule the camp, combine; A mingled Chaos this of war and wine. 230 "Now," cries the first, "for deeds of blood prepare, With me the conquest and the labour share: Here lies our path; lest any hand arise, Watch thou, while many a dreaming chieftain dies; I'll carve our pa.s.sage, through the heedless foe, And clear thy road, with many a deadly blow."

His whispering accents then the youth repress'd, And pierced proud Rhamnes through his panting breast: Stretch'd at his ease, th' incautious king repos'd; Debauch, and not fatigue, his eyes had clos'd; 240 To Turnus dear, a prophet and a prince, His omens more than augur's skill evince; But he, who thus foretold the fate of all, Could not avert his own untimely fall.

Next Remus' armour-bearer, hapless, fell, And three unhappy slaves the carnage swell; The charioteer along his courser's sides Expires, the steel his sever'd neck divides; And, last, his Lord is number'd with the dead: Bounding convulsive, flies the gasping head; 250 From the swol'n veins the blackening torrents pour; Stain'd is the couch and earth with clotting gore.

Young Lamyrus and Lamus next expire, And gay Serra.n.u.s, fill'd with youthful fire; Half the long night in childish games was pa.s.s'd; [xv]

Lull'd by the potent grape, he slept at last: Ah! happier far, had he the morn survey'd, And, till Aurora's dawn, his skill display'd. [xvi]

In slaughter'd folds, the keepers lost in sleep, [xvii]

His hungry fangs a lion thus may steep; 260 'Mid the sad flock, at dead of night he prowls, With murder glutted, and in carnage rolls Insatiate still, through teeming herds he roams; [xviii]

In seas of gore, the lordly tyrant foams.

Nor less the other's deadly vengeance came, But falls on feeble crowds without a name; His wound unconscious Fadus scarce can feel, Yet wakeful Rhaesus sees the threatening steel; His coward breast behind a jar he hides, And, vainly, in the weak defence confides; 270 Full in his heart, the falchion search'd his veins, The reeking weapon bears alternate stains; Through wine and blood, commingling as they flow, One feeble spirit seeks the shades below.

Now where Messapus dwelt they bend their way, Whose fires emit a faint and trembling ray; There, unconfin'd, behold each grazing steed, Unwatch'd, unheeded, on the herbage feed: [xix]

Brave Nisus here arrests his comrade's arm, Too flush'd with carnage, and with conquest warm: 280 "Hence let us haste, the dangerous path is pa.s.s'd; Full foes enough, to-night, have breath'd their last: Soon will the Day those Eastern clouds adorn; Now let us speed, nor tempt the rising morn."

What silver arms, with various art emboss'd, What bowls and mantles, in confusion toss'd, They leave regardless! yet one glittering prize Attracts the younger Hero's wandering eyes; The gilded harness Rhamnes' coursers felt, The gems which stud the monarch's golden belt: 290 This from the pallid corse was quickly torn, Once by a line of former chieftains worn.

Th' exulting boy the studded girdle wears, Messapus' helm his head, in triumph, bears; Then from the tents their cautious steps they bend, To seek the vale, where safer paths extend.

Just at this hour, a band of Latian horse To Turnus' camp pursue their destin'd course: While the slow foot their tardy march delay, The knights, impatient, spur along the way: 300 Three hundred mail-clad men, by Volscens led, To Turnus with their master's promise sped: Now they approach the trench, and view the walls, When, on the left, a light reflection falls; The plunder'd helmet, through the waning night, Sheds forth a silver radiance, glancing bright; Volscens, with question loud, the pair alarms:-- "Stand, Stragglers! stand! why early thus in arms?

From whence? to whom?"--He meets with no reply; Trusting the covert of the night, they fly: 310 The thicket's depth, with hurried pace, they tread, While round the wood the hostile squadron spread.

With brakes entangled, scarce a path between, Dreary and dark appears the sylvan scene: Euryalus his heavy spoils impede, The boughs and winding turns his steps mislead; But Nisus scours along the forest's maze, To where Latinus' steeds in safety graze, Then backward o'er the plain his eyes extend, On every side they seek his absent friend. 320 "O G.o.d! my boy," he cries, "of me bereft, [xx]

In what impending perils art thou left!"

Listening he runs--above the waving trees, Tumultuous voices swell the pa.s.sing breeze; The war-cry rises, thundering hoofs around Wake the dark echoes of the trembling ground.

Again he turns--of footsteps hears the noise-- The sound elates--the sight his hope destroys: The hapless boy a ruffian train surround, [xxi]

While lengthening shades his weary way confound; 330 Him, with loud shouts, the furious knights pursue, Struggling in vain, a captive to the crew. [xxii]

What can his friend 'gainst thronging numbers dare?

Ah! must he rush, his comrade's fate to share?

What force, what aid, what stratagem essay, Back to redeem the Latian spoiler's prey?

His life a votive ransom n.o.bly give, Or die with him, for whom he wish'd to live?

Poising with strength his lifted lance on high, On Luna's...o...b..he cast his frenzied eye:-- 340

"G.o.ddess serene, transcending every star! [xxiii]

Queen of the sky, whose beams are seen afar!

By night Heaven owns thy sway, by day the grove, When, as chaste Dian, here thou deign'st to rove; If e'er myself, or Sire, have sought to grace Thine altars, with the produce of the chase, Speed, speed my dart to pierce yon vaunting crowd, To free my friend, and scatter far the proud."

Thus having said, the hissing dart he flung; Through parted shades the hurtling weapon sung; 350 The thirsty point in Sulmo's entrails lay, Transfix'd his heart, and stretch'd him on the clay: He sobs, he dies,--the troop in wild amaze, Unconscious whence the death, with horror gaze; While pale they stare, thro' Tagus' temples riven, A second shaft, with equal force is driven: Fierce Volscens rolls around his lowering eyes; Veil'd by the night, secure the Trojan lies. [xxiv]

Burning with wrath, he view'd his soldiers fall.

"Thou youth accurst, thy life shall pay for all!" 360 Quick from the sheath his flaming glaive he drew, And, raging, on the boy defenceless flew.

Nisus, no more the blackening shade conceals, Forth, forth he starts, and all his love reveals; Aghast, confus'd, his fears to madness rise, And pour these accents, shrieking as he flies; "Me, me,--your vengeance hurl on me alone; Here sheathe the steel, my blood is all your own; Ye starry Spheres! thou conscious Heaven! attest!

He could not--durst not--lo! the guile confest! 370 All, all was mine,--his early fate suspend; He only lov'd, too well, his hapless friend: Spare, spare, ye Chiefs! from him your rage remove; His fault was friendship, all his crime was love."

He pray'd in vain; the dark a.s.sa.s.sin's sword Pierced the fair side, the snowy bosom gor'd; Lowly to earth inclines his plume-clad crest, And sanguine torrents mantle o'er his breast: As some young rose whose blossom scents the air, Languid in death, expires beneath the share; 380 Or crimson poppy, sinking with the shower, Declining gently, falls a fading flower; Thus, sweetly drooping, bends his lovely head, And lingering Beauty hovers round the dead.

But fiery Nisus stems the battle's tide, Revenge his leader, and Despair his guide; [xxv]

Volscens he seeks amidst the gathering host, Volscens must soon appease his comrade's ghost; Steel, flashing, pours on steel, foe crowds on foe; Rage nerves his arm, Fate gleams in every blow; 390 In vain beneath unnumber'd wounds he bleeds, Nor wounds, nor death, distracted Nisus heeds; In viewless circles wheel'd his falchion flies, Nor quits the hero's grasp till Volscens dies; Deep in his throat its end the weapon found, The tyrant's soul fled groaning through the wound. [xxvi]

Thus Nisus all his fond affection prov'd-- Dying, revenged the fate of him he lov'd; Then on his bosom sought his wonted place, [xxvii]

And death was heavenly, in his friend's embrace! 400

Celestial pair! if aught my verse can claim, Wafted on Time's broad pinion, yours is fame! [xxviii]

Ages on ages shall your fate admire, No future day shall see your names expire, While stands the Capitol, immortal dome!

And vanquished millions hail their Empress, Rome!

[Footnote 1: Lines 1-18 were first published in 'P. on V. Occasions', under the t.i.tle of "Fragment of a Translation from the 9th Book of Virgil's 'aeneid'."]

[Footnote 2: The mother of Iulus, lost on the night when Troy was taken.]

[Footnote i:

'Him Ida sent, a hunter, now no more, To combat foes, upon a foreign sh.o.r.e; Near him, the loveliest of the Trojan band, Did fair Euryalus, his comrade, stand; Few are the seasons of his youthful life, As yet a novice in the martial strife: The G.o.ds to him unwonted gifts impart, A female's beatify, with a hero's heart.

['P. on V. Occasions.']

From Ida torn he left his native grove, Through distant climes, and trackless seas to rove.'

['Hours of Idleness.']]

[Footnote ii:

'And now combin'd, the ma.s.sy gate they guard'.