Complete Works of Virgil

by Virgil

  Two bowls of wine he pours upon the ground,

  Two of warm milk, and two of victim’s blood, 91

  And, scattering purple flowers, invokes the shade aloud.

  XII . “Hail, holy Sire! blest Spirit, hail once more,

  And ashes, vainly rescued! Not with thee

  Was I allowed to reach Italia’s shore,

  The fields Ausonian that the Fates decree,

  And Latin Tiber — whatsoe’er it be.”

  He ceased, when lo, a monstrous serpent, wound

  In seven huge coils, seven giant spires, they see

  Glide from the grave, and gently clasp the mound, 100

  And ‘twixt the altars trail in many a tortuous round.

  XIII . The back with azure and the scales with gold

  In streaks and glittering patches were ablaze:

  So doth the rainbow in the clouds unfold

  A thousand hues against the sun’s bright rays.

  Æneas stood bewildered with amaze.

  In lengthened train meanwhile the snake went on,

  ‘Twixt cups and bowls weaving its sinuous ways,

  Then sipped the sacred food, and harming none, 109

  The tasted altars left and ‘neath the tomb was gone.

  XIV . Cheered, to Anchises he the rites renewed,

  In doubt if there some Genius of the shrine

  Or menial spirit of his sire he viewed.

  Two sheep, two dark-backed heifers, and two swine

  He slays, invoking, as he pours the wine,

  The ghost, released from Acheron. Glad of soul,

  Each adds his gift. These slay the sacred Kine,

  Pile altars, set the cauldrons, heap the coal, 118

  And, sitting, hold the spits, and roast the entrails whole.

  XV . Now came the looked-for day. The ninth fair dawn

  Bright Phaëthon drove up a cloudless sky.

  Rumour and great Acestes’ name had drawn

  The neighbouring folk; shoreward in crowds they hie

  To see the Trojans, or the games to try.

  Piled in the lists the presents they behold,

  Green garlands, tripods, robes of purple dye,

  The conqueror’s palm, bright armour for the bold, 127

  And many a talent’s weight of silver and of gold.

  XVI . Now from a mound the trumpet’s notes proclaim

  The sports begun. Four galleys from the fleet,

  The choicest, manned by mariners of fame,

  And matched in size and urged with ponderous beat

  Of oar-blades, for the naval contest meet.

  See, here the Shark comes speeding to her place,

  Trained is her crew and eager to compete,

  Brave Mnestheus is her captain, born to grace 136

  Italia’s land ere long, and found the Memmian race.

  XVII . Here too, the huge Chimæra towers along,

  A floating citadel, with walls of pine,

  Three tale of Dardans urge her, stout and strong,

  Their triple tiers in unison combine

  To drive her, ruled by Gyas, through the brine.

  Borne in the monstrous Centaur, next doth come

  Sergestus, father of the Sergian line.

  Last, in the dark-blue Scylla ploughs the foam 145

  Cloanthus, whence thy house, Cluentius of Rome.

  XVIII . Far seaward stands, afront the foamy shore,

  A rock, half-hid when wintry waves upleap,

  And skies are starless, and the North-winds roar,

  But still and silent, when the calm waves sleep,

  A level top it lifts above the deep,

  The seamews’ haunt. A bough of ilex here

  The good Æneas sets upon the steep,

  Green-leaved and tall, — a goal, to seamen clear, 154

  To seek and, doubling round, their homeward course to steer.

  XIX . Each takes his station. On the sterns behold,

  Ranged in due order as the lots assign,

  The captains, gay with purple and with gold.

  The crews their brows with poplar garlands twine,

  And wet with oil their naked shoulders shine.

  Prone on their oars, and straining from the thwart,

  With souls astretch, they listen for the sign.

  Fear stirs the pulse and drains the throbbing heart, 163

  Thrilled with the lust of praise, and panting for the start.

  XX . Loud peals the trumpet. From the port they dash

  With cheers. The waves hiss, as the strong arms keep

  In time, drawn up to finish with a flash;

  And three-toothed prow and oars, with measured sweep,

  Tear up the yawning furrows of the deep,

  Less swiftly, to the chariot yoked atwain,

  The bounding racers from the base outleap,

  Less keen the driver, as they scour the plain, 172

  Leans o’er the whistling lash, and slacks the streaming rein.

  XXI . Shouts, cheers and plaudits wake the woods around,

  Their clamours roll along the land-locked shore,

  And, echoing, from the beaten hills rebound.

  First Gyas comes, amid the rout and roar;

  Cloanthus second, — better with the oar

  His crew, but heavier is the load of pine.

  Next Shark and Centaur struggle to the fore,

  Now Shark ahead, now Centaur, now in line 181

  The long keels, urged abreast, together plough the brine.

  XXII . Near lay the rock, the goal was close in sight,

  When Gyas, first o’er half a length of tide

  Shouts to his helmsman: “Whither to the right?

  Hug close the cliff, and graze the leftward side.

  Let others hold the deep.” In vain he cried.

  Menoetes feared the hidden reefs, and bore

  To seaward. “Whither from thy course so wide?

  What; swerving still?” the captain shouts once more, 190

  “Keep to the shore, I say, Menoetes, to the shore.”

  XXIII . He turned, when lo! behind him, gaining fast,

  Cloanthus. On the leeward side he stole

  A narrower compass, grazing as he passed

  His rival’s vessel and the sounding shoal,

  Then gained safe water, as he turned the goal.

  Grief fired young Gyas at the sight, and drew

  Tears from his eyes and anger from his soul.

  Careless alike of honour and his crew, 199

  Down from the lofty stern his timorous guide he threw.

  XXIV . Forthwith he grasps the tiller in his hand,

  Captain and helmsman, and his comrades cheers,

  And wrests the rudder leftward to the land,

  Slow from the depths Menoetes reappears,

  Clogged by his clothes, and cumbered with his years.

  Then, shoreward swimming, climbs with feeble craft

  The rock, and there sits drying. All with jeers

  Laughed as he fell and floated; loud they laughed 208

  As, sputtering, from his throat he spits the briny draught.

  XXV . Joy, mixt with hope, as Gyas slacks his pace,

  Fires the two hindmost. Now they near the mark;

  Sergestus, leading, takes the inside place.

  Yet not a length divides them, for the Shark

  Shoots up halfway and overlaps his bark.

  Mnestheus, amidships pacing, cheers his crew;

  “Now, now lean to, and let each arm be stark;

  Row, mighty Hector’s followers, whom I drew 217

  From Troy, in Troy’s last hour, my comrades tried and true!

  XXVI . “Now for the strength and hardihood that braved

  Gætulian shoals, and the Ionian main,

  And billows following billows, as they raved

  Against steep Malea. Not mine to gain

  The prize: I strive not to be first— ’tis vain.
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  Sweet were the thought — but Neptune rules the race;

  Let them the palm, whom he has willed, retain.

  But oh, for shame! to take the hindmost place 226

  Win this — to ward that doom, and ban the dire disgrace.”

  XXVII . Straining each nerve, they bend them to the oar.

  The bronze poop reels, so lustily they row,

  And from beneath them slips the watery floor.

  The parched lips quiver, as they pant and blow,

  Sweat pours in rivers from their limbs; when now

  Chance brings the wished-for honour. Blindly rash,

  Close to the rocks Sergestus drives his prow.

  Too close he steals; on jutting crags they dash; 235

  The straining oars snap short, the bows with sudden crash

  XXVIII . Stick fast, and hang upon the ledge. Up spring

  With shouts the sailors, clamorous at delay,

  And snatch the crushed oars from the waves, and bring

  Sharp poles and steel-tipt boathooks, and essay

  To thrust the forepart from the rocks away.

  Brave Mnestheus sees and, glorying in his gain,

  Invokes the winds. With oarsmen in array

  His swift bark, urged with many a stalwart strain, 244

  Shoots down the sloping tide, and wins the open main.

  XXIX . Like as a pigeon, startled from her rest,

  Swift from the crannies of the rock, where clings

  Her heart’s desire, the darlings of her nest,

  Darts forth and, scared with terror, flaps her wings,

  Then, gliding smoothly, in the soft air swings,

  And skims her liquid passage through the skies

  On pinions motionless. So Mnestheus springs,

  So springs the Shark; her impulse, as she flies, 253

  Cleaving the homeward seas, the wanting wings supplies.

  XXX . He leaves Sergestus, who implores in vain

  His aid, still toiling from the rocks to clear

  And headway with his shattered oars to gain.

  Soon huge Chimæra, left with none to steer,

  Drops off astern, and labours in the rear.

  Alone remains Cloanthus, but the race

  Well-nigh is ended, and the goal is near;

  Him Mnestheus seeks; his crew, with quickened pace 262

  And utmost stretch of oars, press forward in the chase.

  XXXI . Now, now the noise redoubles; cheers and cries

  Urge on the follower, and the wild acclaim

  Rolls up, and wakes the echoes of the skies.

  These scorn to lose their vantage, stung with shame,

  And life is wagered willingly for fame.

  Success inspires the hindmost; as they dare,

  They do; the thought of winning wins the game.

  With equal honours Chance had crowned the pair, 271

  But thus, with outspread hands, Cloanthus breathed a prayer:

  XXXII . “Great Gods of Ocean! on whose waves I ride,

  A milk-white bull upon the shore I vow,

  And with its entrails will I strew the tide,

  And on your altars make the wine outflow.”

  Fair Panopea hears him from below,

  The Nereids hear, and old Portunus plies

  His own great hand, to push them as they go.

  Swifter than arrow to the shore she flies, 280

  Swifter than Southern gale, and in the harbour lies.

  XXXIII . All summoned now, the herald’s voice declares

  Cloanthus conqueror, and with verdant bay

  Æneas crowns him. To each crew he shares

  Three steers and wine, and, to recall the day,

  A silver talent bids them bear away.

  Choice honours to the captains next are told,

  A scarf he gives the victor, rich and gay,

  Twice-fringed with purple, glorious to behold, 289

  Whose Melibæan dye meanders round the gold.

  XXXIV . Inwoven there, behold the kingly boy,

  Fair Ganymede, pursues the flying deer

  On Ida and the wooded heights of Troy,

  Swift-footed, glorying with uplifted spear,

  So keen the panting of his heart ye hear.

  Down swoops Jove’s armour-bearer, and on high

  With taloned claws hath trussed him. Vainly here

  His aged guardians lift their heads and cry; 298

  The faithful dogs look up, and fiercely bay the sky.

  XXXV . A goodly hauberk to the next he gave,

  With polished rings and triple chain of gold,

  Torn by his own hands from Demoleos brave,

  Beneath high Troy, where Simois swiftly rolled,

  The warrior’s glory and defence, to hold.

  Phegeus and Sagaris, with all their might,

  Two stalwart slaves, scarce bore it, fold on fold,

  That coat of mail, wherein Demoleos dight, 307

  Trod down the ranks of Troy, and put his foes to flight.

  XXXVI . Last comes the third: two brazen caldrons fine,

  Two cups of silver doth the prince bestow,

  Rough-chased with imagery of choice design.

  Each had his prize, and glorying forth they go,

  With purple ribbons on their brows, when lo!

  Scarce torn with effort from the rock’s embrace,

  Oarless, and short of oarsmen by a row,

  Home comes Sergestus, and in rueful case 316

  Drives his dishonoured bark, left hindmost in the race.

  XXXVII . As when an adder, whom athwart the way

  Some wheel hath crushed, or traveller, passing by,

  Maimed with a stone, as unaware he lay,

  And left sore mangled, on the point to die,

  In vain his coils would lengthen, fain to fly:

  One half erect, his burning eyes around

  He darts, and lifts his hissing throat on high,

  Defiant, half still writhes upon the ground, 325

  Self-twined in tortuous knots, and crippled by the wound:

  XXXVIII . So slowly rows the Centaur, yet anon

  They set the sails, and loose the spreading sheet,

  And crowd full canvas; and the port is won.

  Glad is Æneas, and he joys to greet

  His friends brought safely and his ships complete.

  So to Sergestus, for his portion due,

  He gives fair Pholöe, a slave of Crete,

  Twins at her breast, two sons of loveliest hue, 334

  And well Minerva’s works, the weaving art, she knew.

  XXXIX . This contest o’er, the good Æneas sought

  A grassy plain, with waving forests crowned

  And sloping hills — fit theatre for sport,

  Where in the middle of the vale was found

  A circus. Hither comes he, ringed around

  With thousands, here, amidst them, throned on high

  In rustic state, he seats him on a mound,

  And all who in the footrace list to vie, 343

  With proffered gifts invites, and tempts their souls to try.

  XL . In crowds the Teucrians and Sicanians come,

  First, Nisus and Euryalus. None so fair

  As young Euryalus, in youthful bloom

  And beauty; none with Nisus could compare

  In pure affection for a youth so rare.

  Here stood Diores, famous for his speed,

  A prince of Priam’s lineage; Salius there,

  And Patron, this of Acarnanian seed, 352

  That of Arcadian birth and Tegeæan breed.

  XLI . Came from Trinacria two champions bold,

  Young Helymus and Panopes, well-tried

  In woodland craft, and followers of old

  Acestes; came full many a youth beside,

  Whose fame shines dimly, or whose name hath died.

  Then cries Æneas ‘mid the concourse: “Ho!

  G
ive heed, for surely shall my word abide,

  Blithe be your hearts, for none among you — no, 361

  Not one of all this crowd — without a gift shall go.

  XLII . “To each, a common largess, be a pair

  Of Gnossian javelins and an axe decreed,

  With haft of silver chasings. Three shall wear

  Crowns of pale olive. For the victor’s need,

  Adorned with trappings, stands a noble steed.

  A quiver, worn by Amazon of old,

  With Thracian arrows, for the next in speed,

  Clasped with a gem and belted with bright gold. 370

  The third this Argive helm, fit recompense, shall hold.”

  XLIII . He spake, and at the signal forth they burst

  Together, like a storm-cloud, from the base,

  With eager eyes set goalward. Nisus first

  Darts off, and, bounding with the South-wind’s pace,

  And swift as wingèd lightning, leads the race.

  Next, but the next with many a length between,

  Comes Salius; then, behind him, third in place,

  Euryalus; then Helymus is seen; 379

  And lo! Diores last, comes flying along the green.

  XLIV . Heel touching heel, on Helymus he hung,

  Shoulder to shoulder. But a rood beside,

  And, slipping past him, foremost he had sprung,

  And solved a doubt by winning. Side by side,

  The last lap reached, with many a labouring stride

  And breathless effort to the post they strain,

  When lo! chance-tripping where the sward is dyed

  With slippery blood of oxen newly slain, 388

  Down luckless Nisus slides, and sprawls upon the plain.

  XLV . Stumbling, he felt the tottering knees give way.

  With shouts of triumph on his lips he falls

  Prone in the gore and in the miry clay.

  E’en then, his love remembering, he recalls

  Euryalus. Across the track he crawls,

  Then, scrambling up from out the quagmire, flies

  At Salius. In the dust proud Salius sprawls.

  Forth darts Euryalus, ‘mid cheers and cries, 397

  Hailed, through his helping friend, the winner of the prize.

  XLVI . The second prize to Helymus, the third

  Falls thus to brave Diores. — Now the heat