Complete Works of Virgil

by Virgil

  his severed trunk lies tombless on the shore,

  the head from shoulder torn, the corpse unknown.

  Then first wild horror on my spirit fell

  and dazed me utterly. A vision rose

  of my own cherished father, as I saw

  the King, his aged peer, sore wounded Iying

  in mortal agony; a vision too

  of lost Creusa at my ravaged hearth,

  and young Iulus’ peril. Then my eyes

  looked round me seeking aid. But all were fled,

  war-wearied and undone; some earthward leaped

  from battlement or tower; some in despair

  yielded their suffering bodies to the flame.

  I stood there sole surviving; when, behold,

  to Vesta’s altar clinging in dumb fear,

  hiding and crouching in the hallowed shade,

  Tyndarus’ daughter!— ‘t was the burning town

  lighted full well my roving steps and eyes.

  In fear was she both of some Trojan’s rage

  for Troy o’erthrown, and of some Greek revenge,

  or her wronged husband’s Iong indignant ire.

  So hid she at that shrine her hateful brow,

  being of Greece and Troy, full well she knew,

  the common curse. Then in my bosom rose

  a blaze of wrath; methought I should avenge

  my dying country, and with horrid deed

  pay crime for crime. “Shall she return unscathed

  to Sparta, to Mycenae’s golden pride,

  and have a royal triumph? Shall her eyes

  her sire and sons, her hearth and husband see,

  while Phrygian captives follow in her train?

  is Priam murdered? Have the flames swept o’er

  my native Troy? and cloth our Dardan strand

  sweat o’er and o’er with sanguinary dew?

  O, not thus unavenged! For though there be

  no glory if I smite a woman’s crime,

  nor conqueror’s fame for such a victory won,

  yet if I blot this monster out, and wring

  full punishment from guilt, the time to come

  will praise me, and sweet pleasure it will be

  to glut my soul with vengeance and appease

  the ashes of my kindred.”So I raved,

  and to such frenzied purpose gave my soul.

  Then with clear vision (never had I seen

  her presence so unclouded) I beheld,

  in golden beams that pierced the midnight gloom,

  my gracious mother, visibly divine,

  and with that mien of majesty she wears

  when seen in heaven; she stayed me with her hand,

  and from her lips of rose this counsel gave:

  “O son, what sorrow stirs thy boundless rage?

  what madness this? Or whither vanisheth

  thy love of me? Wilt thou not seek to know

  where bides Anchises, thy abandoned sire,

  now weak with age? or if Creusa lives

  and young Ascanius, who are ringed about

  with ranks of Grecian foes, and long ere this —

  save that my love can shield them and defend —

  had fallen on flame or fed some hungry sword?

  Not Helen’s hated beauty works thee woe;

  nor Paris, oft-accused. The cruelty

  of gods, of gods unaided, overwhelms

  thy country’s power, and from its Iofty height

  casts Ilium down. Behold, I take away

  the barrier-cloud that dims thy mortal eye,

  with murk and mist o’er-veiling. Fear not thou

  to heed thy mother’s word, nor let thy heart

  refuse obedience to her counsel given.

  ‘Mid yonder trembling ruins, where thou see’st

  stone torn from stone, with dust and smoke uprolling,

  ‘t is Neptune strikes the wall; his trident vast

  makes her foundation tremble, and unseats

  the city from her throne. Fierce Juno leads

  resistless onset at the Scaean gate,

  and summons from the ships the league of powers,

  wearing her wrathful sword. On yonder height

  behold Tritonia in the citadel

  clothed with the lightning and her Gorgon-shield!

  Unto the Greeks great Jove himself renews

  their courage and their power; ‘t is he thrusts on

  the gods themselves against the Trojan arms.

  Fly, O my son! The war’s wild work give o’er!

  I will be always nigh and set thee safe

  upon thy father’s threshold.” Having said,

  she fled upon the viewless night away.

  Then loomed o’er Troy the apparition vast

  of her dread foes divine; I seemed to see

  all Ilium sink in fire, and sacred Troy,

  of Neptune’s building, utterly o’erthrown.

  So some huge ash-tree on the mountain’s brow

  (when rival woodmen, heaving stroke on stroke

  of two-edged axes, haste to cast her down)

  sways ominously her trembling, leafy top,

  and drops her smitten head; till by her wounds

  vanquished at last, she makes her dying groan,

  and falls in loud wreck from the cliffs uptorn.

  I left the citadel; and, led by Heaven,

  threaded the maze of deadly foes and fires,

  through spears that glanced aside and flames that fell.

  Soon came I to my father’s ancient seat,

  our home and heritage. But lo! my sire

  (whom first of all I sought, and first would bear

  to safe asylum in the distant hills)

  vowed he could never, after fallen Troy,

  live longer on, or bear an exile’s woe.

  “O you,” he cried, “whose blood not yet betrays

  the cruel taint of time, whose powers be still

  unpropped and undecayed, go, take your flight.

  If heavenly wrath had willed my life to spare,

  this dwelling had been safe. It is too much

  that I have watched one wreck, and for too Iong

  outlived my vanquished country. Thus, O, thus!

  Compose these limbs for death, and say farewell.

  My own hand will procure it; or my foe

  will end me of mere pity, and for spoil

  will strip me bare. It is an easy loss

  to have no grave. For many a year gone by,

  accursed of Heaven, I tarry in this world

  a useless burden, since that fatal hour

  when Jove, of gods the Sire and men the King,

  his lightnings o’er me breathed and blasting fire.”

  Such fixed resolve he uttered o’er and o’er,

  and would not yield, though with my tears did join

  my spouse Creusa, fair Ascanius,

  and our whole house, imploring the gray sire

  not with himself to ruin all, nor add

  yet heavier burdens to our crushing doom.

  He still cried, “No!” and clung to where he sat

  and to the same dread purpose. I once more

  back to the fight would speed. For death alone

  I made my wretched prayer. What space was left

  for wisdom now? What chance or hope was given?

  “Didst thou, dear father, dream that I could fly

  sundered from thee? Did such an infamy

  fall from a father’s lips? If Heaven’s decree

  will of this mighty nation not let live

  a single soul, if thine own purpose be

  to cast thyself and thy posterity

  into thy country’s grave, behold, the door

  is open to thy death! Lo, Pyrrhus comes

  red-handed from King Priam! He has slain

  a son before a father’s eyes, and spilt

  a father’s blood upon his own hearth
stone.

  Was it for this, O heavenly mother mine,

  that thou hast brought me safe through sword and fire?

  that I might see these altars desecrate

  by their worst foes? that I might look upon

  my sire, my wife, and sweet Ascanius

  dead at my feet in one another’s blood?

  To arms, my men, to arms! The hour of death

  now beckons to the vanquished. Let me go

  whither the Greeks are gathered; let me stand

  where oft revives the flagging stroke of war:

  Not all of us die unavenged this day!”

  I clasped my sword-belt round me once again,

  fitted my left arm to my shield, and turned

  to fly the house; but at the threshold clung

  Creusa to my knees, and lifted up

  Iulus to his father’s arms. “If thou

  wouldst rush on death,” she cried, “O, suffer us

  to share thy perils with thee to the end.

  But if this day’s work bid thee trust a sword,

  defend thy hearthstone first. Who else shall guard

  thy babe Iulus, or thy reverend sire?

  Or me, thy wife that was — what help have I?”

  So rang the roof-top with her piteous cries:

  but lo! a portent wonderful to see

  on sudden rose; for while his parents’ grief

  held the boy close in arm and full in view,

  there seemed upon Iulus’ head to glow

  a flickering peak of fire; the tongue of flame

  innocuous o’er his clustering tresses played,

  and hovered round his brows. We, horror-struck,

  grasped at his burning hair, and sprinkled him,

  to quench that holy and auspicious fire.

  then sire Anchises with exultant eyes

  looked heavenward, and lifted to the stars

  his voice and outstretched hands. “Almighty Jove,

  if aught of prayer may move thee, let thy grace

  now visit us! O, hear this holy vow!

  And if for service at thine altars done,

  we aught can claim, O Father, lend us aid,

  and ratify the omen thou hast given!”

  Scarce ceased his aged voice, when suddenly

  from leftward, with a deafening thunder-peal,

  cleaving the blackness of the vaulted sky,

  a meteor-star in trailing splendor ran,

  exceeding bright. We watched it glide sublime

  o’er tower and town, until its radiant beam

  in forest-mantled Ida died away;

  but left a furrow on its track in air,

  a glittering, Iong line, while far and wide

  the sulphurous fume and exhalation flowed.

  My father strove not now; but lifted him

  in prayer to all the gods, in holy awe

  of that auspicious star, and thus exclaimed:

  “Tarry no moment more! Behold, I come!

  Whithersoe’er ye lead, my steps obey.

  Gods of my fathers, O, preserve our name!

  Preserve my son, and his! This augury

  is yours; and Troy on your sole strength relies.

  I yield, dear son; I journey at thy side.”

  He spoke; and higher o’er the blazing walls

  leaped the loud fire, while ever nearer drew

  the rolling surges of tumultuous flame.

  “Haste, father, on these bending shoulders climb!

  This back is ready, and the burden light;

  one peril smites us both, whate’er befall;

  one rescue both shall find. Close at my side

  let young Iulus run, while, not too nigh,

  my wife Creusa heeds what way we go.

  Ye servants of our house, give ear, I pray,

  to my command. Outside the city’s gates

  lies a low mound and long since ruined fane

  to Ceres vowed; a cypress, ancient shade

  o’erhangs it, which our fathers’ pious care

  protected year by year; by various paths

  be that our meeting-place. But in thy hands

  bring, sire, our household gods, and sanctifies:

  for me to touch, who come this very hour

  from battle and the fresh blood of the slain,

  were but abomination, till what time

  in living waters I shall make me clean.”

  So saying, I bowed my neck and shoulders broad,

  o’erspread me with a lion’s tawny skin,

  and lifted up my load. Close at my side

  little Iulus twined his hand in mine

  and followed, with unequal step, his sire.

  My wife at distance came. We hastened on,

  creeping through shadows; I, who once had viewed

  undaunted every instrument of war

  and all the gathered Greeks in grim array,

  now shook at every gust, and heard all sounds

  with fevered trepidation, fearing both

  for him I bore and him who clasped my hand.

  Now near the gates I drew, and deemed our flight

  safely at end, when suddenly I heard

  the sounding tread of many warriors

  that seemed hard-by, while through the murky night

  my father peered, and shouted, “O my son,

  away, away! for surely all our foes

  are here upon us, and my eyes behold

  the glance of glittering shields and flash of arms.”

  O, then some evil-working, nameless god

  clouded my senses quite: for while I sped

  along our pathless way, and left behind

  all paths and regions known — O wretched me! —

  Creusa on some dark disaster fell;

  she stopped, or wandered, or sank down undone, —

  I never knew what way, — and nevermore

  I looked on her alive. Yet knew I not

  my loss, nor backward turned a look or thought,

  till by that hallowed hill to Ceres vowed

  we gathered all, — and she alone came not,

  while husband, friends, and son made search in vain.

  What god, what man, did not my grief accuse

  in frenzied word? In all the ruined land

  what worse woe had I seen? Entrusting then

  my sire, my son, and all the Teucrian gods

  to the deep shadows of a slanting vale

  where my allies kept guard, I tried me back

  to that doomed town, re-girt in glittering arms.

  Resolved was I all hazards to renew,

  all Troy to re-explore, and once again

  offer my life to perils without end.

  The walls and gloomy gates whence forth I came

  I first revisit, and retrace my way,

  searching the night once more. On all sides round

  horror spread wide; the very silence breathed

  a terror on my soul. I hastened then

  back to my fallen home, if haply there

  her feet had strayed; but the invading Greeks

  were its possessors, though the hungry fire

  was blown along the roof-tree, and the flames

  rolled raging upward on the fitful gale.

  To Priam’s house I haste, and climb once more

  the citadel; in Juno’s temple there,

  the chosen guardians of her wasted halls,

  Phoenix and dread Ulysses watched the spoil.

  Here, snatched away from many a burning fane,

  Troy’s treasures lay, — rich tables for the gods,

  thick bowls of messy gold, and vestures rare,

  confusedly heaped up, while round the pile

  fair youths and trembling virgins stood forlorn.

  Yet oft my voice rang dauntless through the gloom,

  from street to street I cried with anguish vain;

  and on Creusa piteously calling,


  woke the lamenting echoes o’er and o’er.

  While on this quest I roamed the city through,

  of reason reft there rose upon my sight —

  O shape of sorrow! — my Creusa’s ghost,

  hers truly, though a loftier port it wore.

  I quailed, my hair rose, and I gasped for fear;

  but thus she spoke, and soothed my grief away:

  “Why to these frenzied sorrows bend thy soul,

  O husband ever dear! The will of Heaven

  hath brought all this to pass. Fate doth not send

  Creusa the long journeys thou shalt take,

  or hath th’ Olympian King so given decree.

  Long is thy banishment; thy ship must plough

  the vast, far-spreading sea. Then shalt thou come

  unto Hesperia, whose fruitful plains

  are watered by the Tiber, Lydian stream,

  of smooth, benignant Bow. Thou shalt obtain

  fair fortunes, and a throne and royal bride.

  For thy beloved Creusa weep no more!

  No Myrmidon’s proud palace waits me now;

  Dolopian shall not scorn, nor Argive dames

  command a slave of Dardan’s royal stem

  and wife to Venus’ son. On these loved shores

  the Mother of the Gods compels my stay.

  Farewell! farewell! O, cherish evermore

  thy son and mine!” Her utterance scarce had ceased,

  when, as I strove through tears to make reply,

  she left me, and dissolved in empty air.

  Thrice would my frustrate arms her form enfold;

  thrice from the clasp of hand that vision fled,

  like wafted winds and like a fleeting dream.

  The night had passed, and to my friends once more

  I made my way, much wondering to find

  a mighty multitude assembled there

  of friends new-come, — matrons and men-at-arms,

  and youth for exile bound, — a doleful throng.

  From far and near they drew, their hearts prepared

  and their possessions gathered, to sail forth

  to lands unknown, wherever o’er the wave

  I bade them follow. Now above the crest

  of loftiest Ida rose the morning-star,

  chief in the front of day. The Greeks held fast

  the captive gates of Troy. No help or hope

  was ours any more. Then, yielding all,

  and lifting once again my aged sire,

  for refuge to the distant hills I fled.

  BOOK III

  When Asia’s power and Priam’s race and throne,

  though guiltless, were cast down by Heaven’s decree,

  when Ilium proud had fallen, and Neptune’s Troy

  in smouldering ash lay level with the ground,

  to wandering exile then and regions wild

  the gods by many an augury and sign