by Virgil
Not e’en, were Hector here, my Hector’s aid
Could save us. Hither to this shrine retire,
And share our safety or our death.’ — She said, 622
And to his hallowed seat the aged monarch led.
LXXI . “See, now, Polites, one of Priam’s sons,
Scarce slipt from Pyrrhus’ butchery, and lame,
Through foes, through darts, along the cloisters runs
And empty courtyards. At his heels, aflame
With rage, comes Pyrrhus. Lo, in act to aim,
Now, now, he clutches him, — a moment more,
E’en as before his parent’s eyes he came,
The long spear reached him. Prostrate on the floor 631
Down falls the hapless youth, and welters in his gore.
LXXII . “Then Priam, though hemmed with death on every side,
Spared not his utterance, nor his wrath controlled;
‘To thee, yea, thee, fierce miscreant,’ he cried,
‘May Heaven, — if Heaven with righteous eyes behold
So foul an outrage and a deed so bold,
Ne’er fail a fitting guerdon to ordain,
Nor worthy quittance for thy crime withhold,
Whose hand hath made me see my darling slain, 640
And dared with filial blood a father’s eyes profane.
LXXIII . “‘Not so Achilles, whom thy lying tongue
Would feign thy father; like a foeman brave,
He scorned a suppliant’s rights and trust to wrong,
And sent me home in safety, — ay, and gave
My Hector’s lifeless body to the grave.’
The old man spoke and, with a feeble throw,
At Pyrrhus with a harmless dart he drave.
The jarring metal blunts it, and below 649
The shield-boss, down it hangs, and foils the purposed blow.
LXXIV . “‘Go then,’ cries Pyrrhus, ‘with thy tale of woe
To dead Pelides, and thy plaints outpour.
To him, my father, in the shades below,
These deeds of his degenerate son deplore;
Now die!’ — So speaking, to the shrine he tore
The aged Priam, trembling with affright,
And feebly sliding in his son’s warm gore.
The left hand twists his hoary locks; the right 658
Deep in his side drives home the falchion, bared and bright.
LXXV . “Such close had Priam’s fortunes; so his days
Were finished, such the bitter end he found,
Now doomed by Fate with dying eyes to gaze
On Troy in flames and ruin all around,
And Pergamus laid level with the ground.
Lo, he to whom once Asia bowed the knee,
Proud lord of many peoples, far-renowned,
Now left to welter by the rolling sea, 667
A huge and headless trunk, a nameless corpse is he.
LXXVI . “Grim horror seized me, and aghast I stood.
Uprose the image of my father dear,
As there I see the monarch, bathed in blood,
Like him in prowess and in age his peer.
Uprose Creusa, desolate and drear,
Iulus’ peril, and a plundered home.
I look around for comrades; none are near.
Some o’er the battlements leapt headlong, some 676
Sank fainting in the flames; the final hour was come.
LXXVII . “I stood alone, when lo, in Vesta’s fane
I see Tyndarean Helen, crouching down.
Bright shone the blaze around me, as in vain
I tracked my comrades through the burning town.
There, mute, and, as the traitress deemed, unknown,
Dreading the Danaan’s vengeance, and the sword
Of Trojans, wroth for Pergamus o’erthrown,
Dreading the anger of her injured lord, 685
Sat Troy’s and Argos’ fiend, twice hateful and abhorred.
LXXVIII . “Then, fired with passion and revenge, I burn
To quit Troy’s downfall and exact the fee
Such crimes deserve. Sooth, then, shall she return
To Sparta and Mycenæ, ay, and see
Home, husband, sons and parents, safe and free,
With Ilian wives and Phrygians in her train,
A queen, in pride of triumph? Shall this be,
And Troy have blazed and Priam’s self been slain, 694
And Trojan blood so oft have soaked the Dardan plain?
LXXIX . “Not so; though glory wait not on the act;
Though poor the praise, and barren be the gain,
Vengeance on feeble woman to exact,
Yet praised hereafter shall his name remain,
Who purges earth of such a monstrous stain.
Sweet is the passion of vindictive joy,
Sweet is the punishment, where just the pain,
Sweet the fierce ardour of revenge to cloy, 703
And slake with Dardan blood the funeral flames of Troy.
LXXX . “So mused I, blind with anger, when in light
Apparent, never so refulgent seen,
My mother dawned irradiate on the night,
Confessed a Goddess, such her form, and mien
And starry stature of celestial sheen.
With her right hand she grasped me from above,
And thus with roseate lips: ‘O son, what mean
These transports? Say, what bitter grief doth move 712
Thy soul to rage untamed? Where vanished is thy love?
LXXXI . “‘Wilt thou not see, if yet thy sire survive,
Worn out with age, amid the war’s alarms?
And if thy wife Creusa be alive,
And young Ascanius? for around thee swarms
The foe, and but for my protecting arms,
Fierce sword or flame had swept them all away.
Not oft-blamed Paris, nor the hateful charms
Of Helen; Heaven, unpitying Heaven to-day 721
Hath razed the Trojan towers and reft the Dardan sway.
LXXXII . “‘Look now, for I will clear the mists that shroud
Thy mortal gaze, and from the visual ray
Purge the gross covering of this circling cloud.
Thou heed, and fear not, whatsoe’er I say,
Nor scorn thy mother’s counsels to obey.
Here, where thou seest the riven piles o’erthrown,
Mixt dust and smoke, rock torn from rock away,
Great Neptune’s trident shakes the bulwarks down, 730
And from its lowest base uproots the trembling town.
LXXXIII . “‘Here, girt with steel, the foremost in the fight,
Fierce Juno stands, the Scæan gates before,
And, mad with fury and malignant spite,
Calls up her federate forces from the shore.
See, on the citadel, all grim with gore,
Red-robed, and with the Gorgon shield aglow,
Tritonian Pallas bids the conflict roar.
E’en Jove with strength reanimates the foe, 739
And stirs the powers of heaven to work the Dardan’s woe.
LXXXIV . “‘Haste, son, and fly; the fruitless toil give o’er.
I will not leave thee, but assist thy flight,
And set thee safely at thy father’s door.’
She spake, and vanished in the gloom of night.
Dread shapes and forms terrific loomed in sight,
And hostile deities, whose faces frowned
Destruction. Then, amid the lurid light,
I see Troy sinking in the flames around, 748
And mighty Neptune’s walls laid level with the ground.
LXXXV . “So, when an aged ash on mountain tall
Stout woodmen strive, with many a rival blow,
To rend from earth; awhile it threats to fall,
With quivering locks and nodding head; now slow
It sinks and, with a dying gr
oan lies low,
And spreads its ruin on the mountain side.
Down from the citadel I haste below,
Through foe, through fire, the goddess for my guide. 757
Harmless the darts give way, the sloping flames divide.
LXXXVI . “But when Anchises’ ancient home I gain,
My father, — he, whom first, with loving care,
I sought and, heedful of my mother, fain
In safety to the neighbouring hills would bear,
Disdains Troy’s ashes to outlive and wear
His days in banishment: ‘Fly ye, who may,
Whom age hath chilled not, nor the years impair.
For me, had Heaven decreed a longer day, 766
Heaven too had spared these walls, nor left my home a prey.
LXXXVII . “‘Enough and more, to live when Ilion fell,
And once to see Troy captured. Leave me, pray,
And bid me, as a shrouded corpse, farewell.
For death — this hand will find for me the way,
Or foes who spoil will pity me and slay.
Light is the loss of sepulchre or pyre,
Loathed have I lived and useless, since the day
When man’s great monarch and the God’s dread sire 775
Breathed his avenging blast and scathed me with his fire.’
LXXXVIII . “So spake he, on his purpose firmly bent.
We — wife, child, family and I — with prayer
And tears entreat the father to relent,
Nor doom us all the common wreck to share,
And urge the ruin that the Fates prepare.
He heeds not — stirs not. Then again I fly
To arms — to arms, in frenzy of despair,
And long in utter misery to die. 784
What other choice was left, what other chance to try?
LXXXIX . “‘What, I to leave thee helpless, and to flee?
O father! could’st thou fancy it? Could e’er
A parent speak of such a crime to me?
If Heaven of such a city naught should spare,
And thou be pleased that thou and thine should share
The common wreck, that way to death is plain.
Wide stands the door; soon Pyrrhus will be there,
Red with the blood of Priam; he hath slain 793
The son before his sire, the father in the fane.
XC . “‘Dost thou for this, dear mother, me through fire
And foemen safely to my home restore;
To see Creusa, and my son and sire
Each foully butchered in the other’s gore,
And Danaans dealing slaughter at the door?
Arms — bring me arms! Troy’s dying moments call
The vanquished. Give me to the Greeks. Once more
Let me revive the battle; ne’er shall all 802
Die unrevenged this day, nor tamely meet their fall.’
XCI . “Once more I girt me with the sword and shield,
And forth had soon into the battle hied,
When lo, Creusa at the doorway kneeled,
And reached Iulus to his sire and cried:
‘If death thou seekest, take me at thy side
Thy death to share, but if, expert in strife,
Thou hop’st in arms, here guard us and abide.
To whom dost thou expose Iulus’ life, 811
Thy father’s, yea, and mine, once called, alas! thy wife.’
XCII . “So wailed Creusa, and in wild despair
Filled all the palace with her sobs and cries,
When lo! a portent, wondrous to declare.
For while, ‘twixt sorrowing parents’ hands and eyes,
Stood young Iulus, wildered with surprise,
Up from the summit of his fair, young head
A tuft was seen of flickering flame to rise.
Gently and harmless to the touch it spread 820
Around his tender brows, and on his temples fed.
XCIII . “In haste we strive to quench the flame divine,
Shaking the tresses of his burning hair.
But gladly sire Anchises hails the sign,
And gazing upward through the starlit air,
His hands and voice together lifts in prayer:
‘O Jove omnipotent, dread power benign,
If aught our piety deserve, if e’er
A suppliant move thee, hearken and incline 829
This once, and aid us now and ratify thy sign.’
XCIV . “Scarce spake the sire when lo, to leftward crashed
A peal of thunder, and amid the night
A sky-dropt star athwart the darkness flashed,
Trailing its torchfire with a stream of light.
We mark the dazzling meteor in its flight
Glide o’er the roof, till, vanished from our eyes,
It hides in Ida’s forest, shining bright
And furrowing out a pathway through the skies, 838
And round us far and wide the sulphurous fumes arise.
XCV . “Up rose my sire, submissive to the sign,
And briefly to the Gods addressed his prayer,
And bowed adoring to the star divine.
‘Now, now,’ he cries, ‘no tarrying; wheresoe’er
Ye point the path, I follow and am there.
Gods of my fathers! O preserve to-day
My home, preserve my grandchild; for your care
Is Troy, and yours this omen. I obey; 847
Lead on, my son, I yield and follow on thy way.’
XCVI . “He spake, and nearer through the city came
The roar, the crackle and the fiery glow
Of conflagration, rolling floods of flame.
‘Quick, father, mount my shoulders; let us go.
That toil shall never tire me. Come whatso
The Fates shall bring us, both alike shall share
One common welfare or one common woe.
Let young Iulus at my side repair; 856
Keep thou, my wife, aloof, and follow as we fare.
XCVII . “‘Ye too, my servants, hearken my commands.
Outside the city is a mound, where, dear
To Ceres once, but now deserted, stands
A temple, and an aged cypress near,
For ages hallowed with religious fear,
There meet we. Father, in thy charge remain
Troy’s gods; for me, red-handed with the smear
Of blood, and fresh from slaughter, ‘twere profane 865
To touch them, ere the stream hath cleansed me of the stain.’
XCVIII . “So saying, my neck and shoulders I incline,
And round them fling a lion’s tawny hide,
Then lift the load. His little hand in mine,
Iulus totters at his father’s side;
Behind me comes Creusa. On we stride
Through shadowy ways; and I who rushing spear
And thronging foes but lately had defied,
Now fear each sound, each whisper of the air, 874
Trembling for him I lead, and for the charge I bear.
XCIX . “And now I neared the gates, and thought my flight
Achieved, when suddenly a noise we hear
Of trampling feet, and, peering through the night,
My father cries, ‘Fly, son, the Greeks are near;
They come, I see the glint of shield and spear,
Fierce foes in front and flashing arms behind.’
Then trembling seized me and, amidst my fear,
What power I know not, but some power unkind 883
Confused my wandering wits, and robbed me of my mind.
C . “For while, the byways following, I left
The beaten track, ah! woe and well away!
My wife Creusa lost me; — whether reft
By Fate, or faint or wandering astray,
I know not, nor have seen her since that day,
Nor sought, nor missed her, till in Ceres’ fane
>
We met at length, and mustered our array.
There she alone was wanting of our train, 892
And husband, son and friends all looked for her in vain!
CI . “Whom then did I upbraid not, wild with woe,
Of gods or men? What sadder sight elsewhere
Had Troy, now whelmed in utter wreck, to show?
Troy’s gods commending to my comrades’ care,
With old Anchises and my infant heir,
I hide them in a winding vale from view,
Then, sheathed again in shining arms, prepare
Once more to scour the city through and through, 901
Resolved to brave all risks, all ventures to renew.
CII . “I reach the ramparts and the shadowy gates
Whence first I issued, backward through the night
My studied steps retracing. Horror waits
Around; the very silence breeds affright.
Then homeward turn, if haply in her flight,
If, haply, thither she had strayed; but ere
I came, behold, the Danaans, loud in fight,
Swarmed through the halls; roof-high the fiery glare, 910
Fanned by the wind, mounts up; the loud blast roars in air.
CIII . “Again to Priam’s palace, and again
Up to the citadel I speed my way.
Armed, in the vacant courts, by Juno’s fane,
Phoenix and curst Ulysses watched the prey.
There, torn from many a burning temple, lay
Troy’s wealth; the tripods of the Gods were there,
Piled in huge heaps, and raiment snatched away,
And golden bowls, and dames with streaming hair 919
And tender boys stand round, and tremble with despair.
CIV . “I shout, and through the darkness shout again,
Rousing the streets, and call and call anew
‘Creusa,’ and ‘Creusa,’ but in vain.
From house to house in frenzy as I flew,
A melancholy spectre rose in view,
Creusa’s very image; ay, ’twas there,
But larger than the living form I knew.
Aghast I stood, tongue-tied, with stiffening hair. 928
Then she addressed me thus, and comforted my care.
CV . “‘What boots this idle passion? Why so fain
Sweet husband, thus to sorrow and repine?
