Complete Works of Virgil

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Complete Works of Virgil Page 239

by Virgil


  First slumber, sweetest that celestials pour.

  Methought I saw poor Hector, as I slept,

  All bathed in tears and black with dust and gore,

  Dragged by the chariot and his swoln feet sore

  With piercing thongs. Ah me! how sad to view,

  How changed from him, that Hector, whom of yore

  Returning with Achilles’ spoils we knew, 316

  When on the ships of Greece his Phrygian fires he threw.

  XXXVII . “Foul is his beard, his hair is stiff with gore,

  And fresh the wounds, those many wounds, remain,

  Which erst around his native walls he bore.

  Then, weeping too, I seem in sorrowing strain

  To hail the hero, with a voice of pain.

  ‘O light of Troy, our refuge! why and how

  This long delay? Whence comest thou again,

  Long-looked-for Hector? How with aching brow, 325

  Worn out by toil and death, do we behold thee now!

  XXXVIII . “‘But oh! what dire indignity hath marred

  The calmness of thy features? Tell me, why

  With ghastly wounds do I behold thee scarred?’

  To such vain quest he cared not to reply,

  But, heaving from his breast a deep-drawn sigh,

  ‘Fly, Goddess-born! and get thee from the fire!

  The foes,’ he said, ‘are on the ramparts. Fly!

  All Troy is tumbling from her topmost spire. 334

  No more can Priam’s land, nor Priam’s self require.

  XXXIX . “‘Could Troy be saved by mortal prowess, mine,

  Yea, mine had saved her. To thy guardian care

  She doth her Gods and ministries consign.

  Take them, thy future destinies to share,

  And seek for them another home elsewhere,

  That mighty city, which for thee and thine

  O’er traversed ocean shall the Fates prepare.’

  He spake, and quickly snatched from Vesta’s shrine 343

  The deathless fire and wreaths and effigy divine.

  XL . “Meanwhile a mingled murmur through the street

  Rolls onward, — wails of anguish, shrieks of fear,

  And though my father’s mansion stood secrete,

  Embowered in foliage, nearer and more near

  Peals the dire clang of arms, and loud and clear,

  Borne on fierce echoes that in tumult blend,

  War-shout and wail come thickening on the ear.

  I start from sleep, the parapet ascend, 352

  And from the sloping roof with eager ears attend.

  XLI . “Like as a fire, when Southern gusts are rude,

  Falls on the standing harvest of the plain,

  Or torrent, hurtling with a mountain flood,

  Whelms field and oxens’ toil and smiling grain,

  And rolls whole forests headlong to the main,

  While, weetless of the noise, on neighbouring height,

  Tranced in mute wonder, stands the listening swain,

  Then, then I see that Hector’s words were right, 361

  And all the Danaan wiles are naked to the light.

  XLII . “And now, Deiphobus, thy halls of pride,

  Bowed by the flames, come ruining through the air;

  Next burn Ucalegon’s, and far and wide

  The broad Sigean reddens with the glare.

  Then come the clamour and the trumpet’s blare.

  Madly I rush to arms; though vain the fight,

  Yet burns my soul, in fury and despair,

  To rally a handful and to hold the height: 370

  Sweet seems a warrior’s death and danger a delight.

  XLIII . “Lo, Panthus, flying from the Grecian bands,

  Panthus, the son of Othrys, Phoebus’ seer,

  Bearing the sacred vessels in his hands,

  And vanquished home-gods, to the door draws near,

  His grandchild clinging to his side in fear.

  ‘Panthus,’ I cry, ‘how fares the fight? what tower

  Still hold we?’ — Sighing, he replies ‘’Tis here,

  The final end of all the Dardan power, 379

  The last, sad day has come, the inevitable hour.

  XLIV . “‘Troy was, and we were Trojans, now, alas!

  No more, for perished is the Dardan fame.

  Fierce Jove to Argos biddeth all to pass,

  And Danaans rule a city wrapt in flame.

  High in the citadel the monstrous frame

  Pours forth an armed deluge to the day,

  And Sinon, puffed with triumph, spreads the flame.

  Part throng the gates, part block each narrow way; 388

  Such hosts Mycenæ sends, such thousands to the fray.

  XLV . “‘Athwart the streets stands ready the array

  Of steel, and bare is every blade and bright.

  Scarce the first warders of the gates essay

  To stand and battle in the blinding night.’

  So spake the son of Othrys, and forthright,

  My spirit stirred with impulse from on high,

  I rush to arms amid the flames and fight,

  Where yells the war-fiend and the warrior’s cry, 397

  Mixt with the din of strife, mounts upward to the sky.

  XLVI . “Here warlike Epytus, renowned in fight,

  And valiant Rhipeus gather to our side,

  And Hypanis and Dymas, matched in might,

  Join with us, by the glimmering moon descried.

  Here Mygdon’s son, Coroebus, we espied,

  Who came to Troy, — Cassandra’s love to gain,

  And now his troop with Priam’s hosts allied;

  Poor youth and heedless! whom in frenzied strain 406

  His promised bride had warned, but warned, alas! in vain.

  XLVII . “So when the bold and compact band I see,

  ‘Brave hearts,’ I cry, ‘but brave, alas! in vain;

  If firm your purpose holds to follow me

  Who dare the worst, our present plight is plain.

  Troy’s guardian gods have left her; altar, fane,

  All is deserted, every temple bare.

  The town ye aid is burning. Forward, then,

  To die and mingle in the tumult’s blare. 415

  Sole hope to vanquished men of safety is despair.’

  XLVIII . “Then fury spurred their courage, and behold,

  As ravening wolves, when darkness hides the day,

  Stung with mad fire of famine uncontrolled,

  Prowl from their dens, and leave the whelps to stay,

  With jaws athirst and gaping for the prey.

  So to sure death, amid the darkness there,

  Where swords, and spears, and foemen bar the way,

  Into the centre of the town we fare. 424

  Night with her shadowy cone broods o’er the vaulted air.

  XLIX . “Oh, who hath tears to match our grief withal?

  What tongue that night of havoc can make known

  An ancient city totters to her fall,

  Time-honoured empress and of old renown;

  And senseless corpses, through the city strown,

  Choke house and temple. Nor hath vengeance found

  None save the Trojans; there the victors groan,

  And valour fires the vanquished. All around 433

  Wailings, and wild affright and shapes of death abound.

  L . “First of the Greeks approaches, with a crowd,

  Androgeus; friends he deems us unaware,

  And thus, with friendly summons, cries aloud:

  ‘Haste, comrades, forward; from the fleet ye fare

  With lagging steps but now, while yonder glare

  Troy’s towers, and others sack and share the spoils?’

  Then straight — for doubtful was our answer there —

  He knew him taken in the foemen’s toils; 442

  Shuddering, he checks his voice, and back his foot
recoils.

  LI . “As one who, in a tangled brake apart,

  On some lithe snake, unheeded in the briar,

  Hath trodden heavily, and with backward start

  Flies, trembling at the head uplift in ire

  And blue neck, swoln in many a glittering spire.

  So slinks Androgeus, shuddering with dismay;

  We, massed in onset, make the foe retire,

  And slay them, wildered, weetless of the way. 451

  Fortune, with favouring smile, assists our first essay.

  LII . “Flushed with success and eager for the fray,

  ‘Friends,’ cries Coroebus, ‘forward; let us go

  Where Fortune newly smiling, points the way.

  Take we the Danaans’ bucklers; with a foe

  Who asks, if craft or courage guide the blow?

  Themselves shall arm us.’ — Then he takes the crest,

  The shield and dagger of Androgeus; so

  Doth Rhipeus, so brave Dymas and the rest; 460

  All in the new-won spoils their eager limbs invest.

  LIII . “Thus we, elate, but not with Heaven our friend,

  March on and mingle with the Greeks in fight,

  And many a Danaan to the shades we send,

  And many a battle in the blinding night

  We join with those that meet us. Some in flight

  Rush diverse to the ships and trusty tide;

  Some, craven-hearted, in ignoble fright,

  Make for the horse and, clambering up the side, 469

  Deep in the treacherous womb, their well-known refuge, hide.

  LIV . “Ah! vain to boast, if Heaven refuse to aid!

  Dragged by her tresses from Minerva’s fane,

  Cassandra comes, the Priameian maid,

  Stretching to heaven her burning eyes in vain,

  Her eyes, for bonds her tender hands constrain.

  That sight Coroebus brooked not. Stung with gall

  And mad with rage, nor fearing to be slain,

  He plunged amid their columns. One and all, 478

  With weapons massed, press on and follow at his call.

  LV . “Here first with missiles, from a temple’s height

  Hurled by our comrades, we are crushed and slain,

  And piteous is the slaughter, at the sight

  Of Argive helms for Argive foes mista’en.

  Now too, with shouts of fury and disdain

  To see the maiden rescued, here and there

  The Danaans gathering round us, charge amain;

  Fierce-hearted Ajax, the Atridan pair, 487

  And all Thessalia’s host our scanty band o’erbear.

  LVI . “So, when the tempest bursting wakes the war,

  The justling winds in conflict rave and roar,

  South, West and East upon his orient car,

  The lashed woods howl, and with his trident hoar

  Nereus in foam upheaves the watery floor.

  Those too, whom late we scattered through the town,

  Tricked in the darkness, reappear once more.

  At once the falsehood of our guise is known, 496

  The shields, the lying arms, the speech of different tone.

  LVII . “O’erwhelmed with odds, we perish; first of all,

  Struck down by fierce Peneleus by the fane

  Of warlike Pallas, doth Coroebus fall.

  Next, Rhipeus dies, the justest, but in vain,

  The noblest soul of all the Trojan train.

  Heaven deemed him otherwise; then Dymas brave

  And Hypanis by comrades’ hands are slain.

  Nor, Panthus, thee thy piety can save, 505

  Nor e’en Apollo’s wreath preserve thee from the grave.

  LVIII . “Witness, ye ashes of our comrades dear,

  Ye flames of Troy, that in your hour of woe

  Nor darts I shunned, nor shock of Danaan spear.

  If Fate my life had called me to forego,

  This hand had earned it, forfeit to the foe.

  Thence forced away, brave Iphitus, and I,

  And Pelias, — Iphitus with age was slow,

  And Pelias by Ulysses lamed — we fly 514

  Where round the palace rings the war-shout’s rallying cry.

  LIX . “There raged a fight so fierce, as though no fight

  Raged elsewhere, nor the city streamed with gore.

  We see the War-God glorying in his might;

  Up to the roof we see the Danaans pour;

  Their shielded penthouse drives against the door.

  Close cling their ladders to the walls; these, fain

  To clutch the doorposts, climb from floor to floor,

  Their right hands strive the battlements to gain, 523

  Their left with lifted shield the arrowy storm sustain.

  LX . “There, roof and pinnacle the Dardans tear —

  Death standing near — and hurl them on the foe,

  Last arms of need, the weapons of despair;

  And gilded beams and rafters down they throw,

  Ancestral ornaments of days ago.

  These, stationed at the gates, with naked glaive,

  Shoulder to shoulder, guard the pass below.

  Hearts leap afresh the royal halls to save, 532

  And cheer our vanquished friends and reinspire the brave.

  LXI . “Behind the palace, unobserved and free,

  There stood a door, a secret thoroughfare

  Through Priam’s halls. Here poor Andromache

  While Priam’s kingdom flourished and was fair,

  To greet her husband’s parents would repair

  Alone, or carrying with tendance fain

  To Hector’s father Hector’s son and heir.

  By this I reached the roof-top, whence in vain 541

  The luckless Teucrians hurled their unavailing rain.

  LXII . “Sheer o’er the highest roof-top to the sky,

  Skirting the parapet, a watch-tower rose,

  Whence camp and fleet and city met the eye.

  Here plying levers, where the flooring shows

  Weak joists, we heave it over. Down it goes

  With sudden crash upon the Danaan train,

  Dealing wide ruin. But anon new foes

  Come swarming up, while ever and again 550

  Fast fall the showers of stones, and thick the javelins rain.

  LXIII . “Just on the threshold of the porch, behold

  Fierce Pyrrhus stands, in glittering brass bedight:

  As when a snake, that through the winter’s cold

  Lay swoln and hidden in the ground from sight,

  Gorged with rank herbs, forth issues to the light,

  And sleek with shining youth and newly drest,

  Wreathing its slippery volumes, towers upright

  And, glorying, to the sunbeam rears its breast, 559

  And darts a three-forked tongue, and points a flaming crest.

  LXIV . “With him, Achilles’ charioteer and squire,

  Automedon, huge Periphas and all

  The Scyrian youth rush up, and flaming fire

  Hurl to the roof, and thunder at the wall.

  He in the forefront, tallest of the tall,

  Poleaxe in hand, unhinging at a stroke

  The brazen portals, made the doorway fall,

  And wide-mouthed as a window, through the oak, 568

  A panelled plank hewn out, a yawning rent he broke.

  LXV . “Bared stands the inmost palace, and behold,

  The stately chambers and the courts appear

  Of Priam and the Trojan Kings of old,

  And warders at the door with shield and spear.

  Moaning and tumult in the house we hear,

  Wailings of misery, and shouts that smite

  The golden stars, and women’s shrieks of fear,

  And trembling matrons, hurrying left and right, 577

  Cling to and kiss the doors, made frantic by affright.

&
nbsp; LXVI . “Strong as his father, Pyrrhus onward pushed,

  Nor bars nor warders can his strength sustain.

  Down sinks the door, with ceaseless battery crushed.

  Force wins a footing, and, the foremost slain,

  In, like a deluge, pours the Danaan train.

  So when the foaming river, uncontrolled,

  Bursts through its banks and riots on the plain,

  O’er dyke and dam the gathering deluge rolled, 586

  From field to field sweeps on with cattle, flock and fold.

  LXVII . “These eyes saw Pyrrhus, rioting in blood,

  Saw on the threshold the Atridæ twain,

  Saw where among a hundred daughters, stood

  Pale Hecuba, saw Priam’s life-blood stain

  The fires his hands had hallowed in the fane.

  Those fifty bridal chambers I behold

  (So fair the promise of a future reign)

  And spoil-deckt pillars of barbaric gold, 595

  A wreck; where fails the flame, its place the Danaans hold.

  LXVIII . “Haply the fate of Priam thou would’st know.

  Soon as he saw the captured city fall,

  The palace-gates burst open, and the foe

  Dealing wild riot in his inmost hall,

  Up sprang the old man and, at danger’s call,

  Braced o’er his trembling shoulders in a breath

  His rusty armour, took his belt withal,

  And drew the useless falchion from its sheath, 604

  And on their thronging spears rushed forth to meet his death.

  LXIX . “Within the palace, open to the day,

  There stood a massive altar. Overhead,

  With drooping boughs, a venerable bay

  Its shadowy foliage o’er the home-gods spread.

  Here, with her hundred daughters, pale with dread,

  Poor Hecuba and all her female train,

  As doves, that from the low’ring storm have fled,

  And cower for shelter from the pelting rain, 613

  Crouch round the silent gods, and cling to them in vain.

  LXX . “But when in youthful arms came Priam near,

  ‘Ah, hapless lord!’ she cries, ‘what mad desire

  Arms thee for battle? Why this sword and spear?

  And whither art thou hurrying? Times so dire

  Not such defenders nor such help require.

 

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