The Æneid of Virgil, Translated into English Verse. Virgil
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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. |
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