Complete Works of Virgil
Page 252
Would pace beside, and question why he came.
But when the Greeks and Agamemnon’s train
Beheld the hero, and his arms shone plain,
Huge terror shook them, and some turned to fly,
As erst they scattered to their ships; some strain
Their husky voice, and raise a feeble cry. 568
The warshout mocks their throats, the gibbering accents die.
LXV . There, too, he sees great Priam’s son, the famed
Deiphobus, in evil plight forlorn;
A mangled shape, his visage marred and maimed.
His ravaged face the ruthless steel had torn, —
Face, nose and ears — and both his hands were shorn.
Him, cowering back, and striving to disown
The shameful tokens of his foemen’s scorn,
Scarcely Æneas knew, then, soon as known, 577
Thus, unaccosted, hailed in old, familiar tone:
LXVI . “O brave Deiphobus, great Teucer’s seed!
Whose heart had will, whose cruel hand had might
To wreak such punishment? Fame told, indeed,
That, tired with slaughter, thou had’st sunk that night
On heaps of mingled carnage in the fight.
Then on the shore I reared an empty mound,
And called (thy name and armour mark the site)
Thy shade. Thyself, dear comrade, ne’er was found. 586
Vain was my parting wish to lay thee in the ground.”
LXVII . “Not thine the fault”; Deiphobus replied,
“Thy debt is rendered; thou hast dealt aright.
Fate, and the baseness of a Spartan bride
Wrought this; behold the tokens of her spite.
Thou know’st — too well must thou recall — that night
Passed in vain pleasure and delusive joy,
What time the fierce Steed, with a bound of might,
Big with armed warriors, eager to destroy, 595
Leaped o’er the wall, and scaled the citadel of Troy.
LXVIII . “Feigning mock orgies, round the town she led
Troy’s dames, with shrieks that rent the midnight air,
And, armed with blazing cresset, at their head
Bright from the watch-tower made the signal flare,
That called the Danaan foemen from their lair.
I, sunk in sleep, the fatal couch had pressed,
Worn out with watching, and weighed down with care,
And, calm and deep, Death’s image, gentle Rest 604
Crept o’er the wearied limbs, and stilled the troubled breast.
LXIX . “Meanwhile, all arms the traitress, as I slept,
Stole from the house, and from beneath my head
She took the trusty falchion, that I kept
To guard the chamber and the bridal bed.
Then, creeping to the door, with stealthy tread,
She lifts the latch, and beckons from within
To Menelaus; so, forsooth, she fled
In hopes a lover’s gratitude to win, 613
And from the past wipe out the scandal of old sin.
LXX . “O noble wife! But why the tale prolong?
Few words were best; my chamber they invade,
They and Ulysses, counsellor of wrong.
Heaven! be these horrors on the Greeks repaid,
If pious lips for just revenge have prayed.
But thou, make answer, and in turn explain
What brought thee, living, to these realms of shade?
By heaven’s command, or wandering o’er the main, 622
Com’st thou to view these shores, this sunless, sad domain?”
LXXI . So they in converse haply had the day
Consumed, when, rosy-charioted, the Morn
O’erpassed mid heaven on her ethereal way,
And thus the Sibyl doth the Dardan warn:
“Night lowers apace; we linger but to mourn.
Here part the roads; beyond the walls of Dis
There lies for us Elysium; leftward borne
Thou comest to Tartarus, in whose drear abyss 631
Poor sinners purge with pains the lives they lived amiss.”
LXXII . “Spare, priestess,” cried Deiphobus, “thy wrath;
I will depart, and fill the tale, and hide
In darkness. Thou, with happier fates, go forth,
Our glory.” — Sudden, from the Dardan’s side
He fled. Back looked Æneas, and espied
Broad bastions, girt with triple wall, that frowned
Beneath a rock to leftward, and the tide
Of torrent Phlegethon, that flamed around, 640
And made the beaten rocks rebellow with the sound.
LXXIII . In front, a massive gateway threats the sky,
And posts of solid adamant upstay
An iron tower, firm-planted to defy
All force, divine or human. Night and day,
Sleepless Tisiphone defends the way,
Girt up with bloody garments. From within
Loud groans are heard, and wailings of dismay,
The whistling scourge, the fetter’s clank and din, 649
Shrieks, as of tortured fiends, and all the sounds of sin.
LXXIV . Aghast, Æneas listens to the cries.
“O maid,” he asks, “what crimes are theirs? What pain
Do they endure? what wailings rend the skies?”
Then she: “Famed Trojan, this accursed domain
None chaste may enter; so the Fates ordain.
Great Hecate herself, when here below
She made me guardian of Avernus’ reign,
Led me through all the region, fain to show 658
The tortures of the gods, the various forms of woe.
LXXV . “Here Cretan Rhadamanthus, strict and stern,
His kingdom holds. Each trespass, now confessed,
He hears and punishes; each tells in turn
The sin, with idle triumph long suppressed,
Till death has bared the secrets of the breast.
Swift at the guilty, as he stands and quakes,
Leaps fierce Tisiphone, for vengeance prest,
And calls her sisters; o’er the wretch she shakes 667
The torturing scourge aloft, and waves the twisted snakes.
LXXVI . “Then, opening slow, on horrid hinges grate
The doors accursed. See’st thou what sentinel
Sits in the porch? What presence guards the gate?
Know, that within, still fiercer and more fell,
Wide-yawning with her fifty throats, doth dwell
A Hydra. Tartarus itself, hard by,
Abrupt and sheer, beneath the ghosts in Hell,
Gapes twice as deep, as o’er the earth on high 676
Towers up the Olympian steep, the summit of the sky.
LXXVII . “There roll the Titans, born of ancient Earth,
Hurled to the bottom by the lightning’s blast.
There lie — twin monsters of enormous girth —
Aloeus’ sons, who ‘gainst Olympus cast
Their impious hands, and strove with daring vast
To disenthrone the Thunderer. There, again,
The famed Salmoneus I beheld, laid fast
In cruel agonies of endless pain, 685
Who sought the flames of Jove with mimic art to feign,
LXXVIII . “And mocked Olympian thunder. Torch in hand,
Drawn by four steeds, through Elis’ streets he came,
A conqueror, borne in triumph through the land.
And, waving high the firebrand, dared to claim
The God’s own homage and a godlike name.
Blind fool and vain! to think with brazen clash
And hollow tramp of horn-hoofed steeds, to frame
The dread Storm’s counterfeit, the thunder’s crash, 694
The matchless bolts of Jove, the inimitable flash.
LXXIX . “B
ut lo! his bolt, no smoky torch of pine,
The Sire omnipotent through darkness sped,
And hurled him headlong with the blast divine.
There, too, lay Tityos, nine roods outspread,
Nursling of earth. Hook-beaked, a vulture dread,
Pecking the deathless liver, plied his quest,
And probed the entrails and the heart, that bred
Immortal pain, and burrowed in his breast. 703
The torturing growth goes on, the fibres never rest.
LXXX . “Why now those ancient Lapithæ recall,
Ixion and Pirithous? There in sight
The black rock frowns, and ever threats to fall.
On golden pillars shine the couches bright,
And royal feasts their longing eyes invite.
But lo, the eldest of the Furies’ band
Sits by, and oft uprising in her might,
Warns from the banquet, with uplifted hand, 712
And thunders in their ears, and waves a flaming brand.
LXXXI . “Those, who with hate a brother’s love repaid,
Or drove a parent outcast from their door,
Or, weaving fraud, their client’s trust betrayed;
Those, who — the most in number — brooded o’er
Their gold, nor gave to kinsmen of their store;
Those, who for foul adultery were slain,
Who followed treason’s banner, or forswore
Their plighted oath to masters, here remain, 721
And, pent in dungeons deep, await their doom of pain.
LXXXII . “Ask not what pain; what fortune or what fate
O’erwhelmed them, nor their torments seek to know.
These roll uphill a rock’s enormous weight,
Those, hung on wheels, are racked with endless woe.
There, too, for ever, as the ages flow,
Sad Theseus sits, and through the darkness cries
Unhappy Phlegyas to the shades below,
‘Learn to be good; take warning and be wise; 730
Learn to revere the gods, nor heaven’s commands despise.’
LXXXIII . “There stands the traitor, who his country sold,
A tyrant’s bondage for his land prepared;
Made laws, unmade them, for a bribe of gold.
With lawless lust a daughter’s shame he shared;
All dared huge crimes, and compassed what they dared.
Ne’er had a hundred mouths, if such were mine,
Nor hundred tongues their endless sins declared,
Nor iron voice their torments could define, 739
Or tell what doom to each the avenging gods assign.
LXXXIV . “But haste we,” adds the Sibyl; “onward hold
The way before thee, and thy task pursue.
Forged in the Cyclops’ furnaces, behold
Yon walls and fronting archway, full in view.
Leave there thy gift and pay the God his due.”
She spake, and thither through the dark they paced,
And reached the gateway. He, with lustral dew
Self-sprinkled, seized the entrance, and in haste 748
High o’er the fronting door the fateful offering placed.
LXXXV . These dues performed, they reach the realms of rest,
Fortunate groves, where happy souls repair,
And lawns of green, the dwellings of the blest.
A purple light, a more abundant air
Invest the meadows. Sun and stars are there,
Known but to them. There rival athletes train
Their practised limbs, and feats of strength compare.
These run and wrestle on the sandy plain, 757
Those tread the measured dance, and join the song’s sweet strain.
LXXXVI . In flowing robes the Thracian minstrel sings,
Sweetly responsive to the seven-toned lyre;
Fingers and quill alternate wakes the strings.
Here Teucer’s race, and many an ancient sire,
Chieftains of nobler days and martial fire,
Ilus, high-souled Assaracus, and he
Who founded Troy, the rapturous strains admire,
And arms afar and shadowy cars they see, 766
And lances fixt in earth, and coursers grazing free.
LXXXVII . The love of arms and chariots, the care
Their glossy steeds to pasture and to train,
That pleased them living, still attends them there:
These, stretched at ease, lie feasting on the plain;
There, choral companies, in gladsome strain,
Chant the loud Pæan, in a grove of bay,
Rich in sweet scents, whence hurrying to the main,
Eridanus’ full torrent on its way 775
Rolls from below through woods majestic to the day.
LXXXVIII . There, the slain patriot, and the spotless sage,
And pious poets, worthy of the God;
There he, whose arts improved a rugged age,
And those who, labouring for their country’s good,
Lived long-remembered, — all, in eager mood,
Crowned with white fillets, round the Sibyl pressed;
Chiefly Musæus; in the midst he stood,
With ample shoulders towering o’er the rest, 784
When thus the listening crowd the prophetess addressed:
LXXXIX . “Tell, happy souls; and thou, great poet, tell
Where — in what place — Anchises doth abide,
For whom we came and crossed the streams of Hell.”
Briefly the venerable chief replied:
“Fixt home hath no one; by the streamlet’s side,
Or in dark groves, or dewy meads we stray,
Where living waters through the pastures glide.
Mount, if ye list, and I will point the way, 793
Yon summit, and beneath the shining fields survey.”
XC . Thus on he leads them, till they leave the height,
Rejoicing. — In a valley far away
The sire Anchises scanned, with fond delight,
The prisoned souls, who waited for the day.
Their shape, their mien his studious eyes survey;
Their fates and fortunes he reviews with pride,
And counts his future offspring in array.
Now, when his son advancing he espied, 802
Aloud, with tearful eyes and outspread hands, he cried:
XCI . “Art thou, then, come at last? Has filial love,
Thrice welcome, braved the perils of the way?
O joy! do I behold thee? hear thee move
Sweet converse as of old? ’Tis come, the day
I longed and looked for, pondering the delay,
And counting every moment, nor in vain.
How tost with perils do I greet thee? yea,
What wanderings thine on every land and main! 811
What dangers did I dread from Libya’s tempting reign!”
XCII . “Father, ’twas thy sad image,” he replied,
“Oft-haunting, drove me to this distant place.
Our navy floats on the Tyrrhenian tide.
Give me thy hand, nor shun a son’s embrace.”
So spake the son, and o’er his cheeks apace
Rolled down soft tears, of sadness and delight.
Thrice he essayed the phantom to embrace;
Thrice, vainly clasped, it melted from his sight, 820
Swift as the wingèd wind, or vision of the night.
XCIII . Meanwhile he views, deep-bosomed in a dale,
A grove, and brakes that rustle in the breeze,
And Lethe, gliding through the peaceful vale.
Peoples and tribes, all hovering round, he sees,
Unnumbered, as in summer heat the bees
Hum round the flowerets of the field, to drain
The fair, white lilies of their sweets; so these
Swarm numberless, and ever and again 829
The gibbering ghosts disperse, and murmur o’er the plain.
XCIV . Awe-struck, Æneas would the cause enquire:
What streams are yonder? what the crowd so great,
That filled the river’s margin? Then the Sire
Anchises answered: “They are souls, that wait
For other bodies, promised them by Fate.
Now, by the banks of Lethe here below,
They lose the memory of their former state,
And from the silent waters, as they flow, 838
Drink the oblivious draught, and all their cares forego.
XCV . “Long have I wished to show thee, face to face,
Italia’s sons, that thou might’st joy with me
To hail the new-found country of our race.”
“Oh father!” said Æneas, “can it be,
That souls sublime, so happy and so free,
Can yearn for fleshly tenements again?
So madly long they for the light?” Then he:
“Learn, son, and listen, nor in doubt remain.” 847
And thus in ordered speech the mystery made plain:
XCVI . “First, Heaven and Earth and Ocean’s liquid plains,
The Moon’s bright globe and planets of the pole,
One mind, infused through every part, sustains;
One universal, animating soul
Quickens, unites and mingles with the whole.
Hence man proceeds, and beasts, and birds of air,
And monsters that in marble ocean roll;
And fiery energy divine they share, 856
Save what corruption clogs, and earthly limbs impair.
XCVII . “Hence Fear and Sorrow, hence Desire and Mirth;
Nor can the soul, in darkness and in chains,
Assert the skies, and claim celestial birth.
Nay, after death, the traces it retains
Of fleshly grossness, and corporeal stains,
Since much must needs by long concretion grow
Inherent. Therefore are they racked with pains,
And schooled in all the discipline of woe; 865
Each pays for ancient sin with punishment below.
XCVIII . “Some hang before the viewless winds to bleach;
Some purge in fire or flood the deep decay
And taint of wickedness. We suffer each
Our ghostly penance; thence, the few who may,