<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=479714" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">ALL were attentive to the godlike man, <br>When from his lofty couch he thus began: <br>“Great queen, what you command me to relate <br>Renews the sad remembrance of our fate: <br>An empire from its old foundations rent, 5 <br>And ev’ry woe the Trojans underwent; <br>A peopled city made a desart place; <br>All that I saw, and part of which I was: <br>Not ev’n the hardest of our foes could hear, <br>Nor stern Ulysses tell without a tear. 10 <br>And now the latter watch of wasting night, <br>And setting stars, to kindly rest invite; <br>But, since you take such int’rest in our woe, <br>And Troy’s disastrous end desire to know, <br>I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell 15 <br>What in our last and fatal night befell. <br>“By destiny compell’d, and in despair, <br>The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war, <br>And by Minerva’s aid a fabric rear’d, <br>Which like a steed of monstrous height appear’d: 20 <br>The sides were plank’d with pine; they feign’d it made <br>For their return, and this the vow they paid. <br>Thus they pretend, but in the hollow side <br>Selected numbers of their soldiers hide: <br>With inward arms the dire machine they load, 25 <br>And iron bowels stuff the dark abode. <br>In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle <br>(While Fortune did on Priam’s empire smile) <br>Renown’d for wealth; but, since, a faithless bay, <br>Where ships expos’d to wind and weather lay. 30 <br>There was their fleet conceal’d. We thought, for Greece <br>Their sails were hoisted, and our fears release. <br>The Trojans, coop’d within their walls so long, <br>Unbar their gates, and issue in a throng, <br>Like swarming bees, and with delight survey 35 <br>The camp deserted, where the Grecians lay: <br>The quarters of the sev’ral chiefs they show’d; <br>Here Phœnix, here Achilles, made abode; <br>Here join’d the battles; there the navy rode. <br>Part on the pile their wond’ring eyes employ: 40 <br>The pile by Pallas rais’d to ruin Troy. <br>Thymoetes first (’t is doubtful whether hir’d, <br>Or so the Trojan destiny requir’d) <br>Mov’d that the ramparts might be broken down, <br>To lodge the monster fabric in the town. 45 <br>But Capys, and the rest of sounder mind, <br>The fatal present to the flames designed, <br>Or to the wat’ry deep; at least to bore <br>The hollow sides, and hidden frauds explore. <br>The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, 50 <br>With noise say nothing, and in parts divide. <br>Laocoon, follow’d by a num’rous crowd, <br>Ran from the fort, and cried, from far, aloud: <br>‘O wretched countrymen! what fury reigns? <br>What more than madness has possess’d your brains? 55 <br>Think you the Grecians from your coasts are gone? <br>And are Ulysses’ arts no better known? <br>This hollow fabric either must inclose, <br>Within its blind recess, our secret foes; <br>Or ’t is an engine rais’d above the town, 60 <br>T’ o’erlook the walls, and then to batter down. <br>Somewhat is sure design’d, by fraud or force: <br>Trust not their presents, nor admit the horse.’ <br>Thus having said, against the steed he threw <br>His forceful spear, which, hissing as it flew, 65 <br>Pierc’d thro’ the yielding planks of jointed wood, <br>And trembling in the hollow belly stood. <br>The sides, transpierc’d, return a rattling sound, <br>And groans of Greeks inclos’d come issuing thro’ the wound. <br>And, had not Heav’n the fall of Troy design’d, 70 <br>Or had not men been fated to be blind, <br>Enough was said and done t’ inspire a better mind. <br>Then had our lances pierc’d the treach’rous wood, <br>And Ilian tow’rs and Priam’s empire stood. <br>Meantime, with shouts, the Trojan shepherds bring 75 <br>A captive Greek, in bands, before the king; <br>Taken to take; who made himself their prey, <br>T’ impose on their belief, and Troy betray; <br>Fix’d on his aim, and obstinately bent <br>To die undaunted, or to circumvent. 80 <br>About the captive, tides of Trojans flow; <br>All press to see, and some insult the foe. <br>Now hear how well the Greeks their wiles disguis’d; <br>Behold a nation in a man compris’d. <br>Trembling the miscreant stood, unarm’d and bound; 85 <br>He star’d, and roll’d his haggard eyes around, <br>Then said: ‘Alas! what earth remains, what sea <br>Is open to receive unhappy me? <br>What fate a wretched fugitive attends, <br>Scorn’d by my foes, abandon’d by my friends?’ 90 <br>He said, and sigh’d, and cast a rueful eye: <br>Our pity kindles, and our passions die. <br>We cheer the youth to make his own defense, <br>And freely tell us what he was, and whence: <br>What news he could impart, we long to know, 95 <br>And what to credit from a captive foe. <br>“His fear at length dismiss’d, he said: ‘Whate’er <br>My fate ordains, my words shall be sincere: <br>I neither can nor dare my birth disclaim; <br>Greece is my country, Sinon is my name. 100 <br>Tho’ plung’d by Fortune’s pow’r in misery, <br>’T is not in Fortune’s pow’r to make me lie. <br>If any chance has hither brought the name <br>Of Palamedes, not unknown to fame, <br>Who suffer’d from the malice of the times, 105 <br>Accus’d and sentenc’d for pretended crimes, <br>Because these fatal wars he would prevent; <br>Whose death the wretched Greeks too late lament— <br>Me, then a boy, my father, poor and bare <br>Of other means, committed to his care, 110 <br>His kinsman and companion in the war. <br>While Fortune favor’d, while his arms support <br>The cause, and rul’d the counsels, of the court, <br>I made some figure there; nor was my name <br>Obscure, nor I without my share of fame. 115 <br>But when Ulysses, with fallacious arts, <br>Had made impression in the people’s hearts, <br>And forg’d a treason in my patron’s name <br>(I speak of things too far divulg’d by fame), <br>My kinsman fell. Then I, without support, 120 <br>In private mourn’d his loss, and left the court. <br>Mad as I was, I could not bear his fate <br>With silent grief, but loudly blam’d the state, <br>And curs’d the direful author of my woes. <br>’T was told again; and hence my ruin rose. 125 <br>I threaten’d, if indulgent Heav’n once more <br>Would land me safely on my native shore, <br>His death with double vengeance to restore. <br>This mov’d the murderer’s hate; and soon ensued <br>Th’ effects of malice from a man so proud. 130 <br>Ambiguous rumors thro’ the camp he spread, <br>And sought, by treason, my devoted head; <br>New crimes invented; left unturn’d no stone, <br>To make my guilt appear, and hide his own; <br>Till Calchas was by force and threat’ning wrought— 135 <br>But why—why dwell I on that anxious thought? <br>If on my nation just revenge you seek, <br>And ’t is t’ appear a foe, t’ appear a Greek; <br>Already you my name and country know; <br>Assuage your thirst of blood, and strike the blow: 140 <br>My death will both the kingly brothers please, <br>And set insatiate Ithacus at ease.’ <br>This fair unfinish’d tale, these broken starts, <br>Rais’d expectations in our longing hearts: <br>Unknowing as we were in Grecian arts. 145 <br>His former trembling once again renew’d, <br>With acted fear, the villain thus pursued: <br>“’Long had the Grecians (tir’d with fruitless care, <br>And wearied with an unsuccessful war) <br>Resolv’d to raise the siege, and leave the town; 150 <br>And, had the gods permitted, they had gone; <br>But oft the wintry seas and southern winds <br>Withstood their passage home, and chang’d their minds. <br>Portents and prodigies their souls amaz’d; <br>But most, when this stupendous pile was rais’d: 155 <br>Then flaming meteors, hung in air, were seen, <br>And thunders rattled thro’ a sky serene. <br>Dismay’d, and fearful of some dire event, <br>Eurypylus t’ enquire their fate was sent. <br>He from the gods this dreadful answer brought: 160 <br>“O Grecians, when the Trojan shores you sought, <br>Your passage with a virgin’s blood was bought: <br>So must your safe return be bought again, <br>And Grecian blood once more atone the main.” <br>The spreading rumor round the people ran; 165 <br>All fear’d, and each believ’d himself the man. <br>Ulysses took th’ advantage of their fright; <br>Call’d Calchas, and produc’d in open sight: <br>Then bade him name the wretch, ordain’d by fate <br>The public victim, to redeem the state. 170 <br>Already some presag’d the dire event, <br>And saw what sacrifice Ulysses meant. <br>For twice five days the good old seer withstood <br>Th’ intended treason, and was dumb to blood, <br>Till, tir’d, with endless clamors and pursuit 175 <br>Of Ithacus, he stood no longer mute; <br>But, as it was agreed, pronounc’d that I <br>Was destin’d by the wrathful gods to die. <br>All prais’d the sentence, pleas’d the storm should fall <br>On one alone, whose fury threaten’d all. 180 <br>The dismal day was come; the priests prepare <br>Their leaven’d cakes, and fillets for my hair. <br>I follow’d nature’s laws, and must avow <br>I broke my bonds and fled the fatal blow. <br>Hid in a weedy lake all night I lay, 185 <br>Secure of safety when they sail’d away. <br>But now what further hopes for me remain, <br>To see my friends, or native soil, again; <br>My tender infants, or my careful sire, <br>Whom they returning will to death require; 190 <br>Will perpetrate on them their first design, <br>And take the forfeit of their heads for mine? <br>Which, O! if pity mortal minds can move, <br>If there be faith below, or gods above, <br>If innocence and truth can claim desert, 195 <br>Ye Trojans, from an injur’d wretch avert.’ <br>“False tears true pity move; the king commands <br>To loose his fetters, and unbind his hands: <br>Then adds these friendly words: ‘Dismiss thy fears; <br>Forget the Greeks; be mine as thou wert theirs. 200 <br>But truly tell, was it for force or guile, <br>Or some religious end, you rais’d the pile?’ <br>Thus said the king. He, full of fraudful arts, <br>This well-invented tale for truth imparts: <br>‘Ye lamps of heav’n!’ he said, and lifted high 205 <br>His hands now free, ‘thou venerable sky! <br>Inviolable pow’rs, ador’d with dread! <br>Ye fatal fillets, that once bound this head! <br>Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I fled! <br>Be all of you adjur’d; and grant I may, 210 <br>Without a crime, th’ ungrateful Greeks betray, <br>Reveal the secrets of the guilty state, <br>And justly punish whom I justly hate! <br>But you, O king, preserve the faith you gave, <br>If I, to save myself, your empire save. 215 <br>The Grecian hopes, and all th’ attempts they made, <br>Were only founded on Minerva’s aid. <br>But from the time when impious Diomede, <br>And false Ulysses, that inventive head, <br>Her fatal image from the temple drew, 220 <br>The sleeping guardians of the castle slew, <br>Her virgin statue with their bloody hands <br>Polluted, and profan’d her holy bands; <br>From thence the tide of fortune left their shore, <br>And ebb’d much faster than it flow’d before: 225 <br>Their courage languish’d, as their hopes decay’d; <br>And Pallas, now averse, refus’d her aid. <br>Nor did the goddess doubtfully declare <br>Her alter’d mind and alienated care. <br>When first her fatal image touch’d the ground, 230 <br>She sternly cast her glaring eyes around, <br>That sparkled as they roll’d, and seem’d to threat: <br>Her heav’nly limbs distill’d a briny sweat. <br>Thrice from the ground she leap’d, was seen to wield <br>Her brandish’d lance, and shake her horrid shield. 235 <br>Then Calchas bade our host for flight prepare, <br>And hope no conquest from the tedious war, <br>Till first they sail’d for Greece; with pray’rs besought <br>Her injur’d pow’r, and better omens brought. <br>And now their navy plows the wat’ry main, 240 <br>Yet soon expect it on your shores again, <br>With Pallas pleas’d; as Calchas did ordain. <br>But first, to reconcile the blue-ey’d maid <br>For her stol’n statue and her tow’r betray’d, <br>Warn’d by the seer, to her offended name 245 <br>We rais’d and dedicate this wondrous frame, <br>So lofty, lest thro’ your forbidden gates <br>It pass, and intercept our better fates: <br>For, once admitted there, our hopes are lost; <br>And Troy may then a new Palladium boast; 250 <br>For so religion and the gods ordain, <br>That, if you violate with hands profane <br>Minerva’s gift, your town in flames shall burn, <br>(Which omen, O ye gods, on Græcia turn!) <br>But if it climb, with your assisting hands, 255 <br>The Trojan walls, and in the city stands; <br>Then Troy shall Argos and Mycenæ burn, <br>And the reverse of fate on us return.’ <br>“With such deceits he gain’d their easy hearts, <br>Too prone to credit his perfidious arts. 260 <br>What Diomede, nor Thetis’ greater son, <br>A thousand ships, nor ten years’ siege, had done— <br>False tears and fawning words the city won. <br>“A greater omen, and of worse portent, <br>Did our unwary minds with fear torment, 265 <br>Concurring to produce the dire event. <br>Laocoon, Neptune’s priest by lot that year, <br>With solemn pomp then sacrific’d a steer; <br>When, dreadful to behold, from sea we spied <br>Two serpents, rank’d abreast, the seas divide, 270 <br>And smoothly sweep along the swelling tide. <br>Their flaming crests above the waves they show; <br>Their bellies seem to burn the seas below; <br>Their speckled tails advance to steer their course, <br>And on the sounding shore the flying billows force. 275 <br>And now the strand, and now the plain they held; <br>Their ardent eyes with bloody streaks were fill’d; <br>Their nimble tongues they brandish’d as they came, <br>And lick’d their hissing jaws, that sputter’d flame. <br>We fled amaz’d; their destin’d way they take, 280 <br>And to Laocoon and his children make; <br>And first around the tender boys they wind, <br>Then with their sharpen’d fangs their limbs and bodies grind <br>The wretched father, running to their aid <br>With pious haste, but vain, they next invade; 285 <br>Twice round his waist their winding volumes roll’d; <br>And twice about his gasping throat they fold. <br>The priest thus doubly chok’d, their crests divide, <br>And tow’ring o’er his head in triumph ride. <br>With both his hands he labors at the knots; 290 <br>His holy fillets the blue venom blots; <br>His roaring fills the flitting air around. <br>Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound, <br>He breaks his bands, the fatal altar flies, <br>And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies. 295 <br>Their tasks perform’d, the serpents quit their prey, <br>And to the tow’r of Pallas make their way: <br>Couch’d at her feet, they lie protected there <br>By her large buckler and protended spear. <br>Amazement seizes all; the gen’ral cry 300 <br>Proclaims Laocoon justly doom’d to die, <br>Whose hand the will of Pallas had withstood, <br>And dared to violate the sacred wood. <br>All vote t’ admit the steed, that vows be paid <br>And incense offer’d to th’ offended maid. 305 <br>A spacious breach is made; the town lies bare; <br>Some hoisting-levers, some the wheels prepare <br>And fasten to the horse’s feet; the rest <br>With cables haul along th’ unwieldly beast. <br>Each on his fellow for assistance calls; 310 <br>At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls, <br>Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets crown’d, <br>And choirs of virgins, sing and dance around. <br>Thus rais’d aloft, and then descending down, <br>It enters o’er our heads, and threats the town. 315 <br>O sacred city, built by hands divine! <br>O valiant heroes of the Trojan line! <br>Four times he struck: as oft the clashing sound <br>Of arms was heard, and inward groans rebound. <br>Yet, mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate, 320 <br>We haul along the horse in solemn state; <br>Then place the dire portent within the tow’r. <br>Cassandra cried, and curs’d th’ unhappy hour; <br>Foretold our fate; but, by the god’s decree, <br>All heard, and none believ’d the prophecy. 325 <br>With branches we the fanes adorn, and waste, <br>In jollity, the day ordain’d to be the last. <br>Meantime the rapid heav’ns roll’d down the light, <br>And on the shaded ocean rush’d the night; <br>Our men, secure, nor guards nor sentries held, 330 <br>But easy sleep their weary limbs compell’d. <br>The Grecians had embark’d their naval pow’rs <br>From Tenedos, and sought our well-known shores, <br>Safe under covert of the silent night, <br>And guided by th’ imperial galley’s light; 335 <br>When Sinon, favor’d by the partial gods, <br>Unlock’d the horse, and op’d his dark abodes; <br>Restor’d to vital air our hidden foes, <br>Who joyful from their long confinement rose. <br>Tysander bold, and Sthenelus their guide, 340 <br>And dire Ulysses down the cable slide: <br>Then Thoas, Athamas, and Pyrrhus haste; <br>Nor was the Podalirian hero last, <br>Nor injur’d Menelaus, nor the fam’d <br>Epeus, who the fatal engine fram’d. 345 <br>A nameless crowd succeed; their forces join <br>T’ invade the town, oppress’d with sleep and wine. <br>Those few they find awake first meet their fate; <br>Then to their fellows they unbar the gate. <br>“’T was in the dead of night, when sleep repairs 350 <br>Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares, <br>When Hector’s ghost before my sight appears: <br>A bloody shroud he seem’d, and bath’d in tears; <br>Such as he was, when, by Pelides slain, <br>Thessalian coursers dragg’d him o’er the plain. 355 <br>Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs were thrust <br>Thro’ the bor’d holes; his body black with dust; <br>Unlike that Hector who return’d from toils <br>Of war, triumphant, in Æacian spoils, <br>Or him who made the fainting Greeks retire, 360 <br>And launch’d against their navy Phrygian fire. <br>His hair and beard stood stiffen’d with his gore; <br>And all the wounds he for his country bore <br>Now stream’d afresh, and with new purple ran. <br>I wept to see the visionary man, 365 <br>And, while my trance continued, thus began: <br>‘O light of Trojans, and support of Troy, <br>Thy father’s champion, and thy country’s joy! <br>O, long expected by thy friends! from whence <br>Art thou so late return’d for our defense? 370 <br>Do we behold thee, wearied as we are <br>With length of labors, and with toils of war? <br>After so many fun’rals of thy own <br>Art thou restor’d to thy declining town? <br>But say, what wounds are these? What new disgrace 375 <br>Deforms the manly features of thy face?’ <br>“To this the specter no reply did frame, <br>But answer’d to the cause for which he came, <br>And, groaning from the bottom of his breast, <br>This warning in these mournful words express’d: 380 <br>‘O goddess-born! escape, by timely flight, <br>The flames and horrors of this fatal night. <br>The foes already have possess’d the wall; <br>Troy nods from high, and totters to her fall. <br>Enough is paid to Priam’s royal name, 385 <br>More than enough to duty and to fame. <br>If by a mortal hand my father’s throne <br>Could be defended, ’t was by mine alone. <br>Now Troy to thee commends her future state, <br>And gives her gods companions of thy fate: 390 <br>From their assistance happier walls expect, <br>Which, wand’ring long, at last thou shalt erect.’ <br>He said, and brought me, from their blest abodes, <br>The venerable statues of the gods, <br>With ancient Vesta from the sacred choir, 395 <br>The wreaths and relics of th’ immortal fire. <br>“Now peals of shouts come thund’ring from afar, <br>Cries, threats, and loud laments, and mingled war: <br>The noise approaches, tho’ our palace stood <br>Aloof from streets, encompass’d with a wood. 400 <br>Louder, and yet more loud, I hear th’ alarms <br>Of human cries distinct, and clashing arms. <br>Fear broke my slumbers; I no longer stay, <br>But mount the terrace, thence the town survey, <br>And hearken what the frightful sounds convey. 405 <br>Thus, when a flood of fire by wind is borne, <br>Crackling it rolls, and mows the standing corn; <br>Or deluges, descending on the plains, <br>Sweep o’er the yellow year, destroy the pains <br>Of lab’ring oxen and the peasant’s gains; 410 <br>Unroot the forest oaks, and bear away <br>Flocks, folds, and trees, an undistinguish’d prey: <br>The shepherd climbs the cliff, and sees from far <br>The wasteful ravage of the wat’ry war. <br>Then Hector’s faith was manifestly clear’d, 415 <br>And Grecian frauds in open light appear’d. <br>The palace of Deiphobus ascends <br>In smoky flames, and catches on his friends. <br>Ucalegon burns next: the seas are bright <br>With splendor not their own, and shine with Trojan light. 420 <br>New clamors and new clangors now arise, <br>The sound of trumpets mix’d with fighting cries. <br>With frenzy seiz’d, I run to meet th’ alarms, <br>Resolv’d on death, resolv’d to die in arms, <br>But first to gather friends, with them t’ oppose 425 <br>(If fortune favor’d) and repel the foes; <br>Spurr’d by my courage, by my country fir’d, <br>With sense of honor and revenge inspir’d. <br>“Pantheus, Apollo’s priest, a sacred name, <br>Had scap’d the Grecian swords, and pass’d the flame: 430 <br>With relics loaden, to my doors he fled, <br>And by the hand his tender grandson led. <br>‘What hope, O Pantheus? whither can we run? <br>Where make a stand? and what may yet be done?’ <br>Scarce had I said, when Pantheus, with a groan: 435 <br>‘Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town! <br>The fatal day, th’ appointed hour, is come, <br>When wrathful Jove’s irrevocable doom <br>Transfers the Trojan state to Grecian hands. <br>The fire consumes the town, the foe commands; 440 <br>And armed hosts, an unexpected force, <br>Break from the bowels of the fatal horse. <br>Within the gates, proud Sinon throws about <br>The flames; and foes for entrance press without, <br>With thousand others, whom I fear to name, 445 <br>More than from Argos or Mycenæ came. <br>To sev’ral posts their parties they divide; <br>Some block the narrow streets, some scour the wide: <br>The bold they kill, th’ unwary they surprise; <br>Who fights finds death, and death finds him who flies. 450 <br>The warders of the gate but scarce maintain <br>Th’ unequal combat, and resist in vain.’ <br>“I heard; and Heav’n, that well-born souls inspires, <br>Prompts me thro’ lifted swords and rising fires <br>To run where clashing arms and clamor calls, 455 <br>And rush undaunted to defend the walls. <br>Ripheus and Iph’itus by my side engage, <br>For valor one renown’d, and one for age. <br>Dymas and Hypanis by moonlight knew <br>My motions and my mien, and to my party drew; 460 <br>With young Coroebus, who by love was led <br>To win renown and fair Cassandra’s bed, <br>And lately brought his troops to Priam’s aid, <br>Forewarn’d in vain by the prophetic maid. <br>Whom when I saw resolv’d in arms to fall, 465 <br>And that one spirit animated all: <br>‘Brave souls!’ said I,—’but brave, alas! in vain— <br>Come, finish what our cruel fates ordain. <br>You see the desp’rate state of our affairs, <br>And heav’n’s protecting pow’rs are deaf to pray’rs. 470 <br>The passive gods behold the Greeks defile <br>Their temples, and abandon to the spoil <br>Their own abodes: we, feeble few, conspire <br>To save a sinking town, involv’d in fire. <br>Then let us fall, but fall amidst our foes: 475 <br>Despair of life the means of living shows.’ <br>So bold a speech incourag’d their desire <br>Of death, and added fuel to their fire. <br>“As hungry wolves, with raging appetite, <br>Scour thro’ the fields, nor fear the stormy night— 480 <br>Their whelps at home expect the promis’d food, <br>And long to temper their dry chaps in blood— <br>So rush’d we forth at once; resolv’d to die, <br>Resolv’d, in death, the last extremes to try. <br>We leave the narrow lanes behind, and dare 485 <br>Th’ unequal combat in the public square: <br>Night was our friend; our leader was despair. <br>What tongue can tell the slaughter of that night? <br>What eyes can weep the sorrows and affright? <br>An ancient and imperial city falls: 490 <br>The streets are fill’d with frequent funerals; <br>Houses and holy temples float in blood, <br>And hostile nations make a common flood. <br>Not only Trojans fall; but, in their turn, <br>The vanquish’d triumph, and the victors mourn. 495 <br>Ours take new courage from despair and night: <br>Confus’d the fortune is, confus’d the fight. <br>All parts resound with tumults, plaints, and fears; <br>And grisly Death in sundry shapes appears. <br>Androgeos fell among us, with his band, 500 <br>Who thought us Grecians newly come to land. <br>‘From whence,’ said he, ‘my friends, this long delay? <br>You loiter, while the spoils are borne away: <br>Our ships are laden with the Trojan store; <br>And you, like truants, come too late ashore.’ 505 <br>He said, but soon corrected his mistake, <br>Found, by the doubtful answers which we make: <br>Amaz’d, he would have shunn’d th’ unequal fight; <br>But we, more num’rous, intercept his flight. <br>As when some peasant, in a bushy brake, 510 <br>Has with unwary footing press’d a snake; <br>He starts aside, astonish’d, when he spies <br>His rising crest, blue neck, and rolling eyes; <br>So from our arms surpris’d Androgeos flies. <br>In vain; for him and his we compass’d round, 515 <br>Possess’d with fear, unknowing of the ground, <br>And of their lives an easy conquest found. <br>Thus Fortune on our first endeavor smil’d. <br>Coroebus then, with youthful hopes beguil’d, <br>Swoln with success, and of a daring mind, 520 <br>This new invention fatally design’d. <br>‘My friends,’ said he, ‘since Fortune shows the way, <br>’T is fit we should th’ auspicious guide obey. <br>For what has she these Grecian arms bestow’d, <br>But their destruction, and the Trojans’ good? 525 <br>Then change we shields, and their devices bear: <br>Let fraud supply the want of force in war. <br>They find us arms.’ This said, himself he dress’d <br>In dead Androgeos’ spoils, his upper vest, <br>His painted buckler, and his plumy crest. 530 <br>Thus Ripheus, Dymas, all the Trojan train, <br>Lay down their own attire, and strip the slain. <br>Mix’d with the Greeks, we go with ill presage, <br>Flatter’d with hopes to glut our greedy rage; <br>Unknown, assaulting whom we blindly meet, 535 <br>And strew with Grecian carcasses the street. <br>Thus while their straggling parties we defeat, <br>Some to the shore and safer ships retreat; <br>And some, oppress’d with more ignoble fear, <br>Remount the hollow horse, and pant in secret there. 540 <br>“But, ah! what use of valor can be made, <br>When heav’n’s propitious pow’rs refuse their aid! <br>Behold the royal prophetess, the fair <br>Cassandra, dragg’d by her dishevel’d hair, <br>Whom not Minerva’s shrine, nor sacred bands, 545 <br>In safety could protect from sacrilegious hands: <br>On heav’n she cast her eyes, she sigh’d, she cried— <br>’T was all she could—her tender arms were tied. <br>So sad a sight Coroebus could not bear; <br>But, fir’d with rage, distracted with despair, 550 <br>Amid the barb’rous ravishers he flew: <br>Our leader’s rash example we pursue. <br>But storms of stones, from the proud temple’s height, <br>Pour down, and on our batter’d helms alight: <br>We from our friends receiv’d this fatal blow, 555 <br>Who thought us Grecians, as we seem’d in show. <br>They aim at the mistaken crests, from high; <br>And ours beneath the pond’rous ruin lie. <br>Then, mov’d with anger and disdain, to see <br>Their troops dispers’d, the royal virgin free, 560 <br>The Grecians rally, and their pow’rs unite, <br>With fury charge us, and renew the fight. <br>The brother kings with Ajax join their force, <br>And the whole squadron of Thessalian horse. <br>“Thus, when the rival winds their quarrel try, 565 <br>Contending for the kingdom of the sky, <br>South, east, and west, on airy coursers borne; <br>The whirlwind gathers, and the woods are torn: <br>Then Nereus strikes the deep; the billows rise, <br>And, mix’d with ooze and sand, pollute the skies. 570 <br>The troops we squander’d first again appear <br>From several quarters, and enclose the rear. <br>They first observe, and to the rest betray, <br>Our diff’rent speech; our borrow’d arms survey. <br>Oppress’d with odds, we fall; Coroebus first, 575 <br>At Pallas’ altar, by Peneleus pierc’d. <br>Then Ripheus follow’d, in th’ unequal fight; <br>Just of his word, observant of the right: <br>Heav’n thought not so. Dymas their fate attends, <br>With Hypanis, mistaken by their friends. 580 <br>Nor, Pantheus, thee, thy miter, nor the bands <br>Of awful Phœbus, sav’d from impious hands. <br>Ye Trojan flames, your testimony bear, <br>What I perform’d, and what I suffer’d there; <br>No sword avoiding in the fatal strife, 585 <br>Expos’d to death, and prodigal of life; <br>Witness, ye heavens! I live not by my fault: <br>I strove to have deserv’d the death I sought. <br>But, when I could not fight, and would have died, <br>Borne off to distance by the growing tide, 590 <br>Old Iphitus and I were hurried thence, <br>With Pelias wounded, and without defense. <br>New clamors from th’ invested palace ring: <br>We run to die, or disengage the king. <br>So hot th’ assault, so high the tumult rose, 595 <br>While ours defend, and while the Greeks oppose <br>As all the Dardan and Argolic race <br>Had been contracted in that narrow space; <br>Or as all Ilium else were void of fear, <br>And tumult, war, and slaughter, only there. 600 <br>Their targets in a tortoise cast, the foes, <br>Secure advancing, to the turrets rose: <br>Some mount the scaling ladders; some, more bold, <br>Swerve upwards, and by posts and pillars hold; <br>Their left hand gripes their bucklers in th’ ascent, 605 <br>While with their right they seize the battlement. <br>From their demolish’d tow’rs the Trojans throw <br>Huge heaps of stones, that, falling, crush the foe; <br>And heavy beams and rafters from the sides <br>(Such arms their last necessity provides) 610 <br>And gilded roofs, come tumbling from on high, <br>The marks of state and ancient royalty. <br>The guards below, fix’d in the pass, attend <br>The charge undaunted, and the gate defend. <br>Renew’d in courage with recover’d breath, 615 <br>A second time we ran to tempt our death, <br>To clear the palace from the foe, succeed <br>The weary living, and revenge the dead. <br>“A postern door, yet unobserv’d and free, <br>Join’d by the length of a blind gallery, 620 <br>To the king’s closet led: a way well known <br>To Hector’s wife, while Priam held the throne, <br>Thro’ which she brought Astyanax, unseen, <br>To cheer his grandsire and his grandsire’s queen. <br>Thro’ this we pass, and mount the tow’r, from whence 625 <br>With unavailing arms the Trojans make defense. <br>From this the trembling king had oft descried <br>The Grecian camp, and saw their navy ride. <br>Beams from its lofty height with swords we hew, <br>Then, wrenching with our hands, th’ assault renew; 630 <br>And, where the rafters on the columns meet, <br>We push them headlong with our arms and feet. <br>The lightning flies not swifter than the fall, <br>Nor thunder louder than the ruin’d wall: <br>Down goes the top at once; the Greeks beneath 635 <br>Are piecemeal torn, or pounded into death. <br>Yet more succeed, and more to death are sent; <br>We cease not from above, nor they below relent. <br>Before the gate stood Pyrrhus, threat’ning loud, <br>With glitt’ring arms conspicuous in the crowd. 640 <br>So shines, renew’d in youth, the crested snake, <br>Who slept the winter in a thorny brake, <br>And, casting off his slough when spring returns, <br>Now looks aloft, and with new glory burns; <br>Restor’d with pois’nous herbs, his ardent sides 645 <br>Reflect the sun; and rais’d on spires he rides; <br>High o’er the grass, hissing he rolls along, <br>And brandishes by fits his forky tongue. <br>Proud Periphas, and fierce Automedon, <br>His father’s charioteer, together run 650 <br>To force the gate; the Scyrian infantry <br>Rush on in crowds, and the barr’d passage free. <br>Ent’ring the court, with shouts the skies they rend; <br>And flaming firebrands to the roofs ascend. <br>Himself, among the foremost, deals his blows, 655 <br>And with his ax repeated strokes bestows <br>On the strong doors; then all their shoulders ply, <br>Till from the posts the brazen hinges fly. <br>He hews apace; the double bars at length <br>Yield to his ax and unresisted strength. 660 <br>A mighty breach is made: the rooms conceal’d <br>Appear, and all the palace is reveal’d; <br>The halls of audience, and of public state, <br>And where the lonely queen in secret sate. <br>Arm’d soldiers now by trembling maids are seen, 665 <br>With not a door, and scarce a space, between. <br>The house is fill’d with loud laments and cries, <br>And shrieks of women rend the vaulted skies; <br>The fearful matrons run from place to place, <br>And kiss the thresholds, and the posts embrace. 670 <br>The fatal work inhuman Pyrrhus plies, <br>And all his father sparkles in his eyes; <br>Nor bars, nor fighting guards, his force sustain: <br>The bars are broken, and the guards are slain. <br>In rush the Greeks, and all the apartments fill; 675 <br>Those few defendants whom they find, they kill. <br>Not with so fierce a rage the foaming flood <br>Roars, when he finds his rapid course withstood; <br>Bears down the dams with unresisted sway, <br>And sweeps the cattle and the cots away. 680 <br>These eyes beheld him when he march’d between <br>The brother kings: I saw th’ unhappy queen, <br>The hundred wives, and where old Priam stood, <br>To stain his hallow’d altar with his brood. <br>The fifty nuptial beds (such hopes had he, 685 <br>So large a promise, of a progeny), <br>The posts, of plated gold, and hung with spoils, <br>Fell the reward of the proud victor’s toils. <br>Where’er the raging fire had left a space, <br>The Grecians enter and possess the place. 690 <br>“Perhaps you may of Priam’s fate enquire. <br>He, when he saw his regal town on fire, <br>His ruin’d palace, and his ent’ring foes, <br>On ev’ry side inevitable woes, <br>In arms, disus’d, invests his limbs, decay’d, 695 <br>Like them, with age; a late and useless aid. <br>His feeble shoulders scarce the weight sustain; <br>Loaded, not arm’d, he creeps along with pain, <br>Despairing of success, ambitious to be slain! <br>Uncover’d but by heav’n, there stood in view 700 <br>An altar; near the hearth a laurel grew, <br>Dodder’d with age, whose boughs encompass round <br>The household gods, and shade the holy ground. <br>Here Hecuba, with all her helpless train <br>Of dames, for shelter sought, but sought in vain. 705 <br>Driv’n like a flock of doves along the sky, <br>Their images they hug, and to their altars fly. <br>The Queen, when she beheld her trembling lord, <br>And hanging by his side a heavy sword, <br>‘What rage,’ she cried, ‘has seiz’d my husband’s mind? 710 <br>What arms are these, and to what use design’d? <br>These times want other aids! Were Hector here, <br>Ev’n Hector now in vain, like Priam, would appear. <br>With us, one common shelter thou shalt find, <br>Or in one common fate with us be join’d.’ 715 <br>She said, and with a last salute embrac’d <br>The poor old man, and by the laurel plac’d. <br>Behold! Polites, one of Priam’s sons, <br>Pursued by Pyrrhus, there for safety runs. <br>Thro’ swords and foes, amaz’d and hurt, he flies 720 <br>Thro’ empty courts and open galleries. <br>Him Pyrrhus, urging with his lance, pursues, <br>And often reaches, and his thrusts renews. <br>The youth, transfix’d, with lamentable cries, <br>Expires before his wretched parent’s eyes: 725 <br>Whom gasping at his feet when Priam saw, <br>The fear of death gave place to nature’s law; <br>And, shaking more with anger than with age, <br>‘The gods,’ said he, ‘requite thy brutal rage! <br>As sure they will, barbarian, sure they must, 730 <br>If there be gods in heav’n, and gods be just— <br>Who tak’st in wrongs an insolent delight; <br>With a son’s death t’ infect a father’s sight. <br>Not he, whom thou and lying fame conspire <br>To call thee his—not he, thy vaunted sire, 735 <br>Thus us’d my wretched age: the gods he fear’d, <br>The laws of nature and of nations heard. <br>He cheer’d my sorrows, and, for sums of gold, <br>The bloodless carcass of my Hector sold; <br>Pitied the woes a parent underwent, 740 <br>And sent me back in safety from his tent.’ <br>“This said, his feeble hand a javelin threw, <br>Which, flutt’ring, seem’d to loiter as it flew: <br>Just, and but barely, to the mark it held, <br>And faintly tinkled on the brazen shield. 745 <br>“Then Pyrrhus thus: ‘Go thou from me to fate, <br>And to my father my foul deeds relate. <br>Now die!’ With that he dragg’d the trembling sire, <br>Slidd’ring thro’ clotter’d blood and holy mire, <br>(The mingled paste his murder’d son had made,) 750 <br>Haul’d from beneath the violated shade, <br>And on the sacred pile the royal victim laid. <br>His right hand held his bloody falchion bare, <br>His left he twisted in his hoary hair; <br>Then, with a speeding thrust, his heart he found: 755 <br>The lukewarm blood came rushing thro’ the wound, <br>And sanguine streams distain’d the sacred ground. <br>Thus Priam fell, and shar’d one common fate <br>With Troy in ashes, and his ruin’d state: <br>He, who the scepter of all Asia sway’d, 760 <br>Whom monarchs like domestic slaves obey’d. <br>On the bleak shore now lies th’ abandon’d king, <br>A headless carcass, and a nameless thing. <br>“Then, not before, I felt my cruddled blood <br>Congeal with fear, my hair with horror stood: 765 <br>My father’s image fill’d my pious mind, <br>Lest equal years might equal fortune find. <br>Again I thought on my forsaken wife, <br>And trembled for my son’s abandon’d life. <br>I look’d about, but found myself alone, 770 <br>Deserted at my need! My friends were gone. <br>Some spent with toil, some with despair oppress’d, <br>Leap’d headlong from the heights; the flames consum’d the rest. <br>Thus, wand’ring in my way, without a guide, <br>The graceless Helen in the porch I spied 775 <br>Of Vesta’s temple; there she lurk’d alone; <br>Muffled she sate, and, what she could, unknown: <br>But, by the flames that cast their blaze around, <br>That common bane of Greece and Troy I found. <br>For Ilium burnt, she dreads the Trojan sword; 780 <br>More dreads the vengeance of her injur’d lord; <br>Ev’n by those gods who refug’d her abhorr’d. <br>Trembling with rage, the strumpet I regard, <br>Resolv’d to give her guilt the due reward: <br>‘Shall she triumphant sail before the wind, 785 <br>And leave in flames unhappy Troy behind? <br>Shall she her kingdom and her friends review, <br>In state attended with a captive crew, <br>While unreveng’d the good old Priam falls, <br>And Grecian fires consume the Trojan walls? 790 <br>For this the Phrygian fields and Xanthian flood <br>Were swell’d with bodies, and were drunk with blood? <br>’T is true, a soldier can small honor gain, <br>And boast no conquest, from a woman slain: <br>Yet shall the fact not pass without applause, 795 <br>Of vengeance taken in so just a cause; <br>The punish’d crime shall set my soul at ease, <br>And murm’ring manes of my friends appease.’ <br>Thus while I rave, a gleam of pleasing light <br>Spread o’er the place; and, shining heav’nly bright, 800 <br>My mother stood reveal’d before my sight <br>Never so radiant did her eyes appear; <br>Not her own star confess’d a light so clear: <br>Great in her charms, as when on gods above <br>She looks, and breathes herself into their love. 805 <br>She held my hand, the destin’d blow to break; <br>Then from her rosy lips began to speak: <br>‘My son, from whence this madness, this neglect <br>Of my commands, and those whom I protect? <br>Why this unmanly rage? Recall to mind 810 <br>Whom you forsake, what pledges leave behind. <br>Look if your helpless father yet survive, <br>Or if Ascanius or Creusa live. <br>Around your house the greedy Grecians err; <br>And these had perish’d in the nightly war, 815 <br>But for my presence and protecting care. <br>Not Helen’s face, nor Paris, was in fault; <br>But by the gods was this destruction brought. <br>Now cast your eyes around, while I dissolve <br>The mists and films that mortal eyes involve, 820 <br>Purge from your sight the dross, and make you see <br>The shape of each avenging deity. <br>Enlighten’d thus, my just commands fulfil, <br>Nor fear obedience to your mother’s will. <br>Where yon disorder’d heap of ruin lies, 825 <br>Stones rent from stones; where clouds of dust arise— <br>Amid that smother Neptune holds his place, <br>Below the wall’s foundation drives his mace, <br>And heaves the building from the solid base. <br>Look where, in arms, imperial Juno stands 830 <br>Full in the Scæan gate, with loud commands, <br>Urging on shore the tardy Grecian bands. <br>See! Pallas, of her snaky buckler proud, <br>Bestrides the tow’r, refulgent thro’ the cloud: <br>See! Jove new courage to the foe supplies, 835 <br>And arms against the town the partial deities. <br>Haste hence, my son; this fruitless labor end: <br>Haste, where your trembling spouse and sire attend: <br>Haste; and a mother’s care your passage shall befriend.’ <br>She said, and swiftly vanish’d from my sight, 840 <br>Obscure in clouds and gloomy shades of night. <br>I look’d, I listen’d; dreadful sounds I hear; <br>And the dire forms of hostile gods appear. <br>Troy sunk in flames I saw (nor could prevent), <br>And Ilium from its old foundations rent; 845 <br>Rent like a mountain ash, which dar’d the winds, <br>And stood the sturdy strokes of lab’ring hinds. <br>About the roots the cruel ax resounds; <br>The stumps are pierc’d with oft-repeated wounds: <br>The war is felt on high; the nodding crown 850 <br>Now threats a fall, and throws the leafy honors down. <br>To their united force it yields, tho’ late, <br>And mourns with mortal groans th’ approaching fate: <br>The roots no more their upper load sustain; <br>But down she falls, and spreads a ruin thro’ the plain. 855 <br>“Descending thence, I scape thro’ foes and fire: <br>Before the goddess, foes and flames retire. <br>Arriv’d at home, he, for whose only sake, <br>Or most for his, such toils I undertake, <br>The good Anchises, whom, by timely flight, 860 <br>I purpos’d to secure on Ida’s height, <br>Refus’d the journey, resolute to die <br>And add his fun’rals to the fate of Troy, <br>Rather than exile and old age sustain. <br>‘Go you, whose blood runs warm in ev’ry vein. 865 <br>Had Heav’n decreed that I should life enjoy, <br>Heav’n had decreed to save unhappy Troy. <br>’T is, sure, enough, if not too much, for one, <br>Twice to have seen our Ilium overthrown. <br>Make haste to save the poor remaining crew, 870 <br>And give this useless corpse a long adieu. <br>These weak old hands suffice to stop my breath; <br>At least the pitying foes will aid my death, <br>To take my spoils, and leave my body bare: <br>As for my sepulcher, let Heav’n take care. 875 <br>’T is long since I, for my celestial wife <br>Loath’d by the gods, have dragg’d a ling’ring life; <br>Since ev’ry hour and moment I expire, <br>Blasted from heav’n by Jove’s avenging fire.’ <br>This oft repeated, he stood fix’d to die: 880 <br>Myself, my wife, my son, my family, <br>Intreat, pray, beg, and raise a doleful cry— <br>‘What, will he still persist, on death resolve, <br>And in his ruin all his house involve!’ <br>He still persists his reasons to maintain; 885 <br>Our pray’rs, our tears, our loud laments, are vain. <br>“Urg’d by despair, again I go to try <br>The fate of arms, resolv’d in fight to die: <br>‘What hope remains, but what my death must give? <br>Can I, without so dear a father, live? 890 <br>You term it prudence, what I baseness call: <br>Could such a word from such a parent fall? <br>If Fortune please, and so the gods ordain, <br>That nothing should of ruin’d Troy remain, <br>And you conspire with Fortune to be slain, 895 <br>The way to death is wide, th’ approaches near: <br>For soon relentless Pyrrhus will appear, <br>Reeking with Priam’s blood—the wretch who slew <br>The son (inhuman) in the father’s view, <br>And then the sire himself to the dire altar drew. 900 <br>O goddess mother, give me back to Fate; <br>Your gift was undesir’d, and came too late! <br>Did you, for this, unhappy me convey <br>Thro’ foes and fires, to see my house a prey? <br>Shall I my father, wife, and son behold, 905 <br>Welt’ring in blood, each other’s arms infold? <br>Haste! gird my sword, tho’ spent and overcome: <br>’T is the last summons to receive our doom. <br>I hear thee, Fate; and I obey thy call! <br>Not unreveng’d the foe shall see my fall. 910 <br>Restore me to the yet unfinish’d fight: <br>My death is wanting to conclude the night.’ <br>Arm’d once again, my glitt’ring sword I wield, <br>While th’ other hand sustains my weighty shield, <br>And forth I rush to seek th’ abandon’d field. 915 <br>I went; but sad Creusa stopp’d my way, <br>And cross the threshold in my passage lay, <br>Embrac’d my knees, and, when I would have gone, <br>Shew’d me my feeble sire and tender son: <br>‘If death be your design, at least,’ said she, 920 <br>‘Take us along to share your destiny. <br>If any farther hopes in arms remain, <br>This place, these pledges of your love, maintain. <br>To whom do you expose your father’s life, <br>Your son’s, and mine, your now forgotten wife!’ 925 <br>While thus she fills the house with clam’rous cries, <br>Our hearing is diverted by our eyes: <br>For, while I held my son, in the short space <br>Betwixt our kisses and our last embrace; <br>Strange to relate, from young Iulus’ head 930 <br>A lambent flame arose, which gently spread <br>Around his brows, and on his temples fed. <br>Amaz’d, with running water we prepare <br>To quench the sacred fire, and slake his hair; <br>But old Anchises, vers’d in omens, rear’d 935 <br>His hands to heav’n, and this request preferr’d: <br>‘If any vows, almighty Jove, can bend <br>Thy will; if piety can pray’rs commend, <br>Confirm the glad presage which thou art pleas’d to send.’ <br>Scarce had he said, when, on our left, we hear 940 <br>A peal of rattling thunder roll in air: <br>There shot a streaming lamp along the sky, <br>Which on the winged lightning seem’d to fly; <br>From o’er the roof the blaze began to move, <br>And, trailing, vanish’d in th’ Idæan grove. 945 <br>It swept a path in heav’n, and shone a guide, <br>Then in a steaming stench of sulphur died. <br>“The good old man with suppliant hands implor’d <br>The gods’ protection, and their star ador’d. <br>‘Now, now,’ said he, ‘my son, no more delay! 950 <br>I yield, I follow where Heav’n shews the way. <br>Keep, O my country gods, our dwelling place, <br>And guard this relic of the Trojan race, <br>This tender child! These omens are your own, <br>And you can yet restore the ruin’d town. 955 <br>At least accomplish what your signs foreshow: <br>I stand resign’d, and am prepar’d to go.’ <br>“He said. The crackling flames appear on high. <br>And driving sparkles dance along the sky. <br>With Vulcan’s rage the rising winds conspire, 960 <br>And near our palace roll the flood of fire. <br>‘Haste, my dear father, (’t is no time to wait,) <br>And load my shoulders with a willing freight. <br>Whate’er befalls, your life shall be my care; <br>One death, or one deliv’rance, we will share. 965 <br>My hand shall lead our little son; and you, <br>My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue. <br>Next, you, my servants, heed my strict commands: <br>Without the walls a ruin’d temple stands, <br>To Ceres hallow’d once; a cypress nigh 970 <br>Shoots up her venerable head on high, <br>By long religion kept; there bend your feet, <br>And in divided parties let us meet. <br>Our country gods, the relics, and the bands, <br>Hold you, my father, in your guiltless hands: 975 <br>In me ’t is impious holy things to bear, <br>Red as I am with slaughter, new from war, <br>Till in some living stream I cleanse the guilt <br>Of dire debate, and blood in battle spilt.’ <br>Thus, ord’ring all that prudence could provide, 980 <br>I clothe my shoulders with a lion’s hide <br>And yellow spoils; then, on my bending back, <br>The welcome load of my dear father take; <br>While on my better hand Ascanius hung, <br>And with unequal paces tripp’d along. 985 <br>Creusa kept behind; by choice we stray <br>Thro’ ev’ry dark and ev’ry devious way. <br>I, who so bold and dauntless, just before, <br>The Grecian darts and shock of lances bore, <br>At ev’ry shadow now am seiz’d with fear, 990 <br>Not for myself, but for the charge I bear; <br>Till, near the ruin’d gate arriv’d at last, <br>Secure, and deeming all the danger past, <br>A frightful noise of trampling feet we hear. <br>My father, looking thro’ the shades, with fear, 995 <br>Cried out: ‘Haste, haste, my son, the foes are nigh; <br>Their swords and shining armor I descry.’ <br>Some hostile god, for some unknown offense, <br>Had sure bereft my mind of better sense; <br>For, while thro’ winding ways I took my flight, 1000 <br>And sought the shelter of the gloomy night, <br>Alas! I lost Creusa: hard to tell <br>If by her fatal destiny she fell, <br>Or weary sate, or wander’d with affright; <br>But she was lost for ever to my sight. 1005 <br>I knew not, or reflected, till I meet <br>My friends, at Ceres’ now deserted seat. <br>We met: not one was wanting; only she <br>Deceiv’d her friends, her son, and wretched me. <br>“What mad expressions did my tongue refuse! 1010 <br>Whom did I not, of gods or men, accuse! <br>This was the fatal blow, that pain’d me more <br>Than all I felt from ruin’d Troy before. <br>Stung with my loss, and raving with despair, <br>Abandoning my now forgotten care, 1015 <br>Of counsel, comfort, and of hope bereft, <br>My sire, my son, my country gods I left. <br>In shining armor once again I sheathe <br>My limbs, not feeling wounds, nor fearing death. <br>Then headlong to the burning walls I run, 1020 <br>And seek the danger I was forc’d to shun. <br>I tread my former tracks; thro’ night explore <br>Each passage, ev’ry street I cross’d before. <br>All things were full of horror and affright, <br>And dreadful ev’n the silence of the night. 1025 <br>Then to my father’s house I make repair, <br>With some small glimpse of hope to find her there. <br>Instead of her, the cruel Greeks I met; <br>The house was fill’d with foes, with flames beset. <br>Driv’n on the wings of winds, whole sheets of fire, 1030 <br>Thro’ air transported, to the roofs aspire. <br>From thence to Priam’s palace I resort, <br>And search the citadel and desart court. <br>Then, unobserv’d, I pass by Juno’s church: <br>A guard of Grecians had possess’d the porch; 1035 <br>There Phœnix and Ulysses watch the prey, <br>And thither all the wealth of Troy convey: <br>The spoils which they from ransack’d houses brought, <br>And golden bowls from burning altars caught, <br>The tables of the gods, the purple vests, 1040 <br>The people’s treasure, and the pomp of priests. <br>A rank of wretched youths, with pinion’d hands, <br>And captive matrons, in long order stands. <br>Then, with ungovern’d madness, I proclaim, <br>Thro’ all the silent street, Creusa’s name: 1045 <br>Creusa still I call; at length she hears, <br>And sudden thro’ the shades of night appears— <br>Appears, no more Creusa, nor my wife, <br>But a pale specter, larger than the life. <br>Aghast, astonish’d, and struck dumb with fear, 1050 <br>I stood; like bristles rose my stiffen’d hair. <br>Then thus the ghost began to soothe my grief <br>‘Nor tears, nor cries, can give the dead relief. <br>Desist, my much-lov’d lord, ’t indulge your pain; <br>You bear no more than what the gods ordain. 1055 <br>My fates permit me not from hence to fly; <br>Nor he, the great controller of the sky. <br>Long wand’ring ways for you the pow’rs decree; <br>On land hard labors, and a length of sea. <br>Then, after many painful years are past, 1060 <br>On Latium’s happy shore you shall be cast, <br>Where gentle Tiber from his bed beholds <br>The flow’ry meadows, and the feeding folds. <br>There end your toils; and there your fates provide <br>A quiet kingdom, and a royal bride: 1065 <br>There fortune shall the Trojan line restore, <br>And you for lost Creusa weep no more. <br>Fear not that I shall watch, with servile shame, <br>Th’ imperious looks of some proud Grecian dame; <br>Or, stooping to the victor’s lust, disgrace 1070 <br>My goddess mother, or my royal race. <br>And now, farewell! The parent of the gods <br>Restrains my fleeting soul in her abodes: <br>I trust our common issue to your care.’ <br>She said, and gliding pass’d unseen in air. 1075 <br>I strove to speak: but horror tied my tongue; <br>And thrice about her neck my arms I flung, <br>And, thrice deceiv’d, on vain embraces hung. <br>Light as an empty dream at break of day, <br>Or as a blast of wind, she rush’d away. 1080 <br>“Thus having pass’d the night in fruitless pain, <br>I to my longing friends return again, <br>Amaz’d th’ augmented number to behold, <br>Of men and matrons mix’d, of young and old; <br>A wretched exil’d crew together brought, 1085 <br>With arms appointed, and with treasure fraught, <br>Resolv’d, and willing, under my command, <br>To run all hazards both of sea and land. <br>The Morn began, from Ida, to display <br>Her rosy cheeks; and Phosphor led the day: 1090 <br>Before the gates the Grecians took their post, <br>And all pretense of late relief was lost. <br>I yield to Fate, unwillingly retire, <br>And, loaded, up the hill convey my sire.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Publius+Vergilius+Maro">Publius Vergilius Maro</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=479714" data-title="The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2 de Publius Vergilius Maro" data-description="ALL were attentive to the godlike man, When from his lofty couch he thus began: “Great queen, what you command me to relate Renews the sad remembrance of our fate: An empire from its old foundations rent, 5 And ev’ry woe the Trojans under..."></div> </div> </div>

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