Sunday 1 October 2017

VIRGIL: AENEID BOOK III: AENEAS' TRAVELS

Introduction:


Book III is the final book of Virgil's "Aeneid" which Sabidius has translated for inclusion on his blog. This is largely for accidental reasons, as he actually first translated it some two or three years ago. The contents of the Book are magnificently entertaining and are very much composed in the pattern of Homer's great work, the "Odyssey". In Book III Aeneas continues his account of what has brought himself and his Trojan companions to the shore of Dido's North African kingdom (see the end of Book I). In Book II Aeneas had recounted the terrible events of fall of Troy, and now in Book III he sets out the details of their chequered attempts to reach their destined homeland in Italy. Highlights, perhaps, are the gruesome discovery of the remains of Polydorus in Thrace (ll. 19-68), the interference with the Trojans' feasting arrangements by the ghoulish Harpies (ll. 209-277), and the chance meeting in Epirus with Andromache, the former wife of Aeneas' close friend Hector, now married to his brother Helenus (ll. 299-355). Particularly moving is Andromache's love for Aeneas' son, Ascanius, whom she believes to resemble so closely her own young son, Astyanax, so brutally murdered on the fall of Troy. The pathos of ll. 472-491, in which Andromache loads Ascanius with gifts on his departure for Italy, is palpable indeed. The best-known extract, however, is undoubtedly the appearance towards the end of the Book of the dreaded Cyclops Polyphemus, the star of Book IX of the "Odyssey", whom Virgil cleverly manages to insert into his narrative without repeating Homer's account, by the ingenious device of Aeneas discovering the deserted Ithacan soldier Achaemenides, left behind by Ulysses on the island of the Cyclopes (ll. 588-612). Achaemenides' account of how Polyphemus killed and then consumed two of his comrades, and Ulysses' subsequent revenge on him, as well as Achaemenides' desperate attempts to keep himself alive thereafter, is a truly gripping read (ll. 613-654). Nor, indeed, is it an anti-climax when the dreadful Polyphemus, now blind but still formidable, finally appears and wades into the water in pursuit of the terrified Trojans ll. 655-674). At the end of the book, Aeneas' beloved and much revered father, Anchises, suddenly dies (ll. 708-714), perhaps in order for his presence not to complicate the drama of the relationship between Aeneas and Dido in Book IV. 


For this translation, Sabidius has made use of the text of Book III, edited by J.B. Greenough, Ginn & Co., Boston, 1900, available on the Perseus website. He has also made reference to "Virgil: The Major Works", translated by A.S. Kline (2001-02), and available on line, and the commentary by John Connington (1876), which is available on the Perseus website. 

1) AENEAS SAILS TO THRACE (LL. 1-18).

a) The Trojans build a fleet and set sail to find a place of exile (ll. 1-12).

"After the Powers Above had seen fit to overthrow the Asian state and Priam's guiltless people, and proud Ilium has fallen, and all of Neptune's Troy lies smoking on the ground, we are driven by the omens of the gods to seek distant places of exile and unoccupied lands, and we build a fleet under the very (shadow of) Antandros and the mountains of Phrygian Ida, uncertain as to where the Fates would carry (us or) where we should be permitted to settle, and we gather our people together. Scarcely had early summer begun, when father Anchises commanded (us) to entrust our sails to destiny: in tears, I leave the shores of my native-land and its havens, and the plains where Troy once stood: (as) an exile, I set sail with my comrades and my son, and with our household gods and the great gods (of our race).

b) We land in Thrace where  I begin to lay the foundations of a city (ll. 13-18).

"Some distance away there lies a land with vast plains belonging to Mavors (i.e. Mars) - the Thracians farm (it) - , once ruled by the fierce Lycurgus, of old a (source of) friendship to Troy, and their household gods (being) allies (of ours), while Fortune was (with us). Here I sail, and I site my first city-walls on a winding shore, though I began (it) with fate being against (it), and I fashion its name 'Aeneadae' from my own name.

2) THE GRAVE OF POLYDORUS (LL. 19-68).

a) Aeneas was sacrificing in honour of his new undertaking, when he found blood dropping from the roots of some cornel and myrtle branches which he was pulling up for the altars, and a voice came from the soil where they stood, telling him that the murdered Polydorus was buried there, and that they were the spears which had been fixed in his body (ll. 19-46).

"I was offering sacrifices to my mother, the daughter of Dione (i.e. Venus) and to the (other) gods, so that they might be favourable to the works (which I had) begun, and I was sacrificing a sleek bull on the shore to the High King of the Heavenly Dwellers. By chance, there was quite near there a mound (of earth) on the top of which (were) thickets of cornel and myrtle, bristling with its dense spear-like branches. I went up to (it), endeavouring to wrench the green wood from the ground, so that I might cover the altar with leafy boughs, (when) I see a portent horrible and astounding to relate. For the first bush which is plucked out from the soil by it torn roots, from it flow drops of black blood and they stain the earth with its gore. An icy shudder shakes my limbs and, stiff with terror, my blood congeals. And yet I proceed once more to tear away the resisting stalk of another (bush) and to explore fully its hidden secrets. And, again, blood oozes from the bark of this second (one). Greatly disturbed in my mind, I began to pray to the woodland nymphs and Father Gradivus (i.e. Mars), who presides over the Getic (i.e. Thracian) fields, to make the portent propitious in the proper manner and lighten the (threat of) the omen. But, when I attack a third (bunch of) spear-shafts with greater effort, and I am pulling hard with my knees (pressed) against the sand - shall I speak or be silent? - , a pitiable groan is heard from the bottom of the mound, and an answering voice comes to my ears: "Why, Aeneas, would you rend a poor wretch? Spare (me) now that I have been buried! Forbear to pollute your righteous hands! Troy bore me, no different to you, nor is this blood which is flowing from this stalk (any different). Oh, flee this cruel land (and) flee this coast of avarice: for I (am) Polydorus: an iron crop of weapons has covered my pierced (body), and has grown into sharp javelins."

b) Aeneas is horror-struck. Polydorus had been entrusted to the charge to the King of Thrace, who, on the overthrow of Troy, had murdered him for the sake of the treasure that had been sent with him. Aeneas refers the matter to his father Anchises and the chiefs of his followers, and there is unanimous agreement that they should leave Thrace. The Trojans pay solemn funeral rites to the murdered youth,  (ll. 47-68).

"Then, indeed, I was stupefied, overcome in my mind by uncertain dread, and my hair stood (on end).
The unfortunate Priam, when he was already despairing of Dardanian arms and saw his city surrounded under siege, had once secretly entrusted this Polydorus, with a great weight of gold, to the King of Thrace to be nurtured. That (king), when the power of the Teucrians (was) broken, and fortune withdrew, following the cause of Agamemnon and his victorious army, breaks every divine law; he murders Polydorus and takes possession of the gold by force. (O) infamous hunger for gold, to what do you not compel human hearts? When the terror left my bones, I refer the portents of the gods to the chosen chiefs of my people, and firstly to my father and ask (them) what their opinion is. They (are) all of the same mind, that we should depart from this accursed land, that this polluted place of lodging should be abandoned, and we should grant the south winds to our fleet. So, we celebrate Polydorus' funeral rites, and a huge (quantity of) earth is heaped on his burial mound. Altars are raised to the Shades, made mournful by sacred fillets and black cypress, and (all) around (are) the women of Ilium with their hair loosened in accordance with custom. We offer bubbling bowls of warm milk and saucers of sacrificial blood, and inter his spirit in its tomb, and invoke (his name) in a loud voice for the very last time.

3) THE TROJANS REACH DELOS (LL. 69-120).

a)  The Trojans set sail with the next fair wind. They land in Delos and are welcomed there. Aeneas consults the oracle, begging the god to tell them where to settle. An answer came at once, bidding them seek out the place from which their race sprung, and assuring them a new and lasting place there (ll. 69-98).

"Then, as soon as the sea (is) trustworthy, and the winds create peaceful waves, and a gentle whispering breeze calls (us) seawards, my comrades bring down our ships and fill up the beach (with them): we set sail from the harbour, and land and cities recede (from view). In the middle of the sea there lies a sacred (piece of) land most dear to the mother of the Nereids (i.e. Doris) and to Aegean Neptune, which, while (it was) drifting around coasts and strands the pious Archer-God (i.e. Apollo) chained fast to lofty Myconos and Gyaros, and made (it) immovable and inhabited and scornful of the winds. Here I sail; a most peaceful (spot), it welcomes my weary (crews) to a safe harbour; disembarking, we pay our reverence to Apollo's city. King Anius, (being) king of his people and the priest of Phoebus, comes to meet (us), with his brows garlanded with fillets and sacred laurel; he recognised his old friend Anchises. We join hands in guest-friendship and enter his palace. I paid reverence to the god's temple (which was) built of old stone. "Grant us a permanent home, (O) God of Thymbra (i.e. Apollo), grant my weary people walls, and descendants and a city that will endure; preserve this second Trojan Pergama (i.e. citadel of Troy) for the survivors of the Danaans and pitiless Achilles. Whom should we follow? To where do you bid us go? Where should we put our dwellings? Grant (us), (O) Father, a sign and inspire our hearts. Scarcely had I spoken these (words): suddenly everything seemed to shake, and the doorway and the god's laurel (crown) and the whole mountain around (us) is moved, and the tripod bellows as the sanctuary is exposed. Grovelling (in fear), we fall to the ground, and a voice comes to our ears: 'O hardy sons of Dardanus, the land which first bore you from your ancestral stock, that same (land) will welcome you on its fertile bosom when you return. Seek out your ancient mother! From here, the house of Aeneas, and his son's children and those that shall be born to them, will rule all the regions of the earth.'

b) All the Trojans are eager to know the meaning of the oracle. Anchises explains to them that Crete was the original cradle of their race and their national religious observances and that they can reach it in three days of sailing; he orders sacrifices to render the voyage auspicious (ll. 99-120).

"Thus Phoebus spoke: and a (great shout of) joy arose, mixed with uproar, and everyone asks to which city Phoebus is calling (us) in our wanderings and to which he is telling (us) to return. Then, my father, revolving in his mind the traditions of past (generations of) men, says: 'Listen, O chiefs and learn about (the object of) your hope: in the midst of the sea lies Crete, the island of mighty Jupiter; there (is) Mount Ida, the cradle of our race. In that richest of kingdoms, (men) inhabit a hundred great cities; from there our forefather, Teucer, if I recall what I heard aright, originally sailed to the shores of Rhoeteas (i.e. a promontory on the Hellespont), and chose a site for his kingdom. Ilium and the towers of Pergama had not yet been erected; (the people) lived in the bottom of the valleys. From here (comes) our Mother, the inhabitant of (Mount) Cybele, and (also) the cymbals of the Corybantes and the grove of Ida; from here (come) the faithful silences for her mystic rites, and the harnessed lions submitted (to draw) their mistress' chariot. So, come and let us follow where the commands of the gods lead (us); let us appease the winds and seek the kingdom of Cnossos (i.e. the capital of Crete). Nor is it a long journey away, (if) only Jupiter is with (us); the third dawn will bring our fleet to land on the shores of Crete.' Speaking thus, he sacrificed fit offerings on the altars, a bull to Neptune, a bull to you, fair Apollo, a black sheep to the Storm (God), (and) a white (one) to the auspicious Westerly Winds.

4) THE PLAGUE AND A VISION (LL. 121-171).

a) The Trojans hear that they may settle in Crete without any danger from enemies, and they make their way there accordingly (ll.121-131). 

"A rumour quickly spreads that Prince Idomeneus has departed, after being driven from his father's kingdom, and that the shores of Crete are deserted, her houses are empty of enemies, and the abandoned dwellings are standing ready (for our use). We leave the harbour of Ortygia and speed across the sea, to Naxos, where they revel on the mountains, and green Donysa, Olearos and Paros, with its white marble, and the Cyclades, scattered, (as they are,) across the sea, and we traverse straits strewn with numerous (bits of) land. The shouts of the sailors arise from their efforts in their various (tasks). Comrades encourage one another: 'Let us make for Crete and our ancestors!' A wind rising astern follows (us) as we go, and at last we glide on to the ancient shores of the Curetes.

b) Aeneas had begun the foundation of a city, when a pestilential season set in. Anchises recommends returning to Delos and consulting the oracle again (ll. 132-146). 

"So, I work eagerly at the walls of my chosen city, and call (it) Pergama, and exhort my people, delighting at the name, to cherish (the place as) their home, and to erect a citadel as a (strong) shelter.
And now our ships (were) drawn up on the dry beach; our young men (were) busy with weddings and fresh farmlands; I was making laws and (allocating) houses: when suddenly from some tainted stretch of the sky there came upon the human frame a wasting disease, and a pitiable blight upon both trees and crops, and a year full of death. (Men) relinquished their sweet lives or continued to drag their sick bodies (around); then Sirius (i.e. the Dog-star) scorched the fields into bareness; the grass became parched and the blighted crops denied (us) food. My father urges (us) to return to sea and to go back again to the oracle of Phoebus at Ortygia (i.e. Delos) and pray for his favour (in answering these questions): what end might he bring to our weary fortunes? whence does he bid (us) seek help for our exertions? whither to direct our course?

c) While Aeneas was contemplating what he should do, the Household Gods appeared to him by night, with a communication from Apollo telling him that the real home of his race was Italy, from where Dardanus came (ll.147-171).

"It was night-time and sleep had taken hold of all the animals on the earth: the sacred images of the gods and the Household Gods of Phrygia, which I had brought with me from Troy and through the midst of the fires of the city seemed to stand there before my eyes, as I lay in sleep, clear in the broad light, where the full moon was pouring herself through the windows (which had been) set into (the walls); then they addressed (me) thus, and allayed my anxieties with these words: 'What Apollo will tell you when you have come to Ortygia, he utters here, and, lo! he send us to your threshold of his accord. When Dardania went down in flames, we followed you and your arms, we traversed the swelling seas with you on your ships, in the same way we shall exalt your future offspring to the stars, and grant empire to their city: you must build a mighty city for the great (gods of your race), and not shrink from the long labour of exile. Your abode must be changed: Delian Apollo did not urge these shores upon you, nor did he order (you) to settle in Crete. There is a region, the Greeks call (it) Hesperia by name, (it is) an ancient land, mighty in arms and in the richness of its soil; the Oenotrian people settled (there); now rumour (has it) that their descendants have called their nation Italy from the name of their leader (i.e. Italus): this is your proper dwelling-place; from here Dardanus was sprung, and our forefather Iasius, from whom our race first (came). Come then, arise and relate with joy these words, which must not be doubted, to your aged father: let him look for Corythus and the lands of Ausonia; Jupiter denies you the fields of (Mount) Dicte (i.e. Crete).

5) THE TROJANS LEAVE CRETE FOR ITALY (LL. 172-208).

a) Aeneas informs his father of what Apollo has said; Anchises admits his error, and remembers a similar prophecy from Cassandra. The Trojans set sail again (ll. 172-191).

"Astounded by such a vision and utterance of the gods - this was not a dream, but I seemed to recognise their expressions in person, and their garlanded hair and their actual faces; then a cold sweat trickled all over my body, I tear my body from its bed and raise my upturned hands to the sky with a prayer and I pour offerings of undiluted wine on the hearth. After I have performed this sacrifice, I joyfully inform Anchises, and disclose this revelation in its proper order. He recognised our ambiguous descent, and our two-fold parentage, and that he had been confused by his recent mistake about our ancient lands. Then, he says: 'My son, (you who are) troubled by the destiny of Ilium, Cassandra, alone, foretold such an outcome to me. Now I recall that she prophesied that these (lands were) owed to our race, and she often invoked Hesperia and, often, the realm of Italy. But who would believe that Teucrians would come to the shores of Italy, or whom, then, might the prophetess Cassandra influence? Let us yield to Phoebus, and, on his advice, let us follow the better (course).' We abandon this dwelling-place also, and, leaving (just) a few (people) behind, we set sail and speed over the vast surface of the sea in our hollow ships.

b) When land was out of sight, the Trojans were involved in a storm, which raged for three days and nights; but on the fourth day land appears (ll. 192-08).



"When our ships have reached the high (sea), and no land is any longer in sight, but (there is) sky on all sides and sea on all sides, then a dark rain-cloud stood directly over my head, bringing night and storm, and the waves billow up in the gloom. At once, the winds churn up the sea and great waves swell up; we are tossed this way and that in the vast abyss; storm-clouds enveloped the day, and a watery darkness blotted out the sky; lightning flashes again and again from clouds (which have been) torn asunder. We are driven from our course, and wander blindly over the waves. Palinurus (i.e. the Trojan helmsman), himself, says he cannot distinguish day or night in the sky, nor remember the route in the midst of the waves. For three long days of uncertainty in the blinding darkness and for as many nights without a star, we wander across the sea. At last, on the fourth day, land (is) seen to rise for the first time, exposing distant mountains and sending up smoke. The sails fall (slack), and we rise to our oars; without delay, the sailors, at full stretch, thrash the foaming (waves) and sweep across the dark-blue (surface of the sea).

6) THE HARPIES (LL. 209-277).

a) The Trojans find themselves on the Strophades, the islands of the Harpies. Oxen and goats are seen grazing: they kill, sacrifice and eat. Then, the Harpies come upon them, and tear and pollute the meat (ll. 210-228).


"After I have been rescued from the waves, the shores of the Strophades (i.e. The Turning Islands) are the first to welcome me. Called by a Greek name, the Strophades are islands lying in the great Ionian (sea), which dread Celaeno and the other Harpies inhabit after Phineus' house was closed to them and they fled in fear from their former tables. No more deadly monster, nor any more savage scourge or divine wrath than these has risen from the waters of the Styx. They are birds with maidens' countenances, (there is) the foulest excrement from their bellies, (they have) hands like talons, and their lips are always pallid with hunger. On our arrival here, when we enter the harbour, behold, we see contented herds of oxen scattered over the plain, and a flock of goats in their pastures with no guard. We rush at (them), sword (in hand), and call on the gods, and Jupiter himself, to (take) a share in our plunder; then, we heap up mounds of earth on the winding shore, and feast on the rich foodstuffs. But, suddenly, in a terrifying swoop from from the hills, the Harpies appear (before us), and flap their wings with a loud clattering noise, and they plunder our feast and defile everything with their filthy touch; then (there is) an awful scream amidst a repulsive stench.

b) The Trojans set up a feast in another more secluded spot, but the same visitation follows. When the Harpies assail them for the third time, they draw their swords and attack them, but are able to make no impression on them (ll. 229-244).

"In a deep recess, under a hollow rock, enclosed all around by trees and flickering shadows, we lay out the table and replace the fire on the altars once more; again, from another part of the sky and from their hidden lair, the screeching crowd flutters around their prey with their clawed feet, (and) defiles our feast with their mouths. Then, I bid my comrades take up their arms, and proclaim that war must be waged against this accursed race. They do just as I have ordered and deposit their swords under cover in the grass and keep their shields out of sight in a concealed spot. So, when, as they swoop down along the winding shore, they make a noise, Misenus from his high look-out post gives the signal on his hollow bronze trumpet. My comrades charge, and try out a new (way of) fighting, (that is,) to wound these foul birds of the sea with their swords: but they do not receive any violence on their feathers, nor wounds on their backs, and, soaring up to the stars with rapid flight, they leave behind (them) the half-eaten prey and the foul traces (of their visit).

c) Celeano, one of the Harpies, threatens the Trojans with famine as a punishment for their current gluttony and violence. Anchises bids them set sail again (ll. 245-267).

"Celaeno, that prophetess of misfortune, perches alone on a high rock, and gives vent to this cry from her breast: '(O) children of Laomedon, are you really ready to declare war for the sake of the slaughter of our oxen and for the sake of our butchered steers, and to drive the innocent Harpies from their proper realm? So, take these words of mine to your hearts and fix (them there), (words) which the Almighty Father foretold to Phoebus, (and) Phoebus Apollo (foretold) to me, (and) I, the eldest of the Furies, reveal (them) to you. You are seeking Italy in your journey, and, having summoned the winds, you shall go to Italy and be able to enter its ports. But you will not encompass your ordained city with walls, until dire hunger and the outrage of your slaughter upon us shall force you to eat your own tables and consume them with your jaws.' She spoke, and, borne by her wings, she fled back to the forest. But the blood of my comrades went stiff, chilled by a sudden terror; their spirits fell, and no longer with arms, but with vows and prayers they bid (me) pray for peace, (no matter) whether they were goddesses or ill-omened and foul birds. And from the beach father Anchises, with outstretched hands, calls on the mighty powers above and declares the required sacrifices: '(O) Gods, prevent their threats; (O) Gods, avert such misfortune and graciously save the righteous!' Then, he bids (us) pull the cables from the shore and slacken the rigging.

d) They sail by the islands off the west coast of Greece, and at last land in Leucadia (ll. 268-277).

"The South Winds stretch our sails; we speed over the foaming waves, wherever the wind and the helmsman directed our course. Now wooded Zacynthos appears in the midst of the waves, and Dulichium and Same, and Neritos with its steep crags. We escape the rocks of Ithaca, Laertes' realm, and curse the land (which was) the nurse of savage Ulysses. Soon, too, the cloudy peaks of Mount Leucata and (the temple of) Apollo, dreaded by sailors, are sighted. Wearily we head for this, and go up to the little town; an anchor is dropped from the prow, and the sterns stand on the beach.

7) THE GAMES AT ACTIUM (LL. 278-293).

(At Actium the Trojans sacrifice and celebrate games, in joy at their escape so far. They winter there, and then depart, leaving a memorial to their sojourn. They land next in Chaonia.)

"So, at last, having reached land unexpectedly, we purify ourselves in the worship of Jupiter and set altars alight for our offerings, and we celebrate Ilian (i.e. Trojan) games on the shores of Actium. Stripped naked, my comrades exercise their native wrestling bouts with slippery oil; they are relieved to have evaded so many Greek cities and to have held (the course of) their flight through the midst of their enemies. Meanwhile, the sun revolves around the great (circle of the) year, and icy winter roughens the waves with northern gales. I fix to the door-post opposite a bronze shield, the arms of great Abas, and mark this event with a (line of) verse: AENEAS [OFFERS] THIS ARMOUR [TAKEN] FROM THE CONQUERING DANAANS. Then, I command (the crews) to leave the harbour and  to take their seats on the thwarts: in rivalry, my comrades strike the sea and sweep its surface. Forthwith, we lose sight of Phaeacia's airy heights and traverse the shores of Epirus, and we enter the harbour of Chaonia and approach the lofty town of Buthrotum.

8) ANDROMACHE IN CHAONIA (LL. 294-355).

a) Here Aeneas is told that Priam's son, Helenus, is king of the country and married to Andromache. Going to the city, Aeneas finds her making offerings at Hector's tomb (ll. 294-319).

"Here, an incredible rumour of events takes possession of our ears: that Helenus, the son of Priam is ruling over Greek cities, after taking possession of the wife and sceptre of Pyrrhus, the scion of Aeacus (i.e. father of Peleus and grandfather of Achilles), and that Andromache had passed again to a husband from her people. I was struck dumb with amazement and my heart burned with a wondrous desire to accost the man and to learn about such great occurrences. Leaving the ships and the beach, I set out from the harbour, when Andromache happened to be making annual offerings and sad gifts to the ashes (of the dead) in a grove before the city by the waters of a feigned Simois (i.e. a Trojan river), and she was inviting Hector's shade (to visit) an empty mound of grassy turf, (on) which she had consecrated twin altars (as) the occasion for her tears. When she caught sight me approaching and saw with amazement the Trojan arms around (her), she froze in the midst of her gaze, terrified by these great supernatural visions, and the warmth left her bones. She faints, and, after a long while, she speaks at last with difficulty: 'Are you (who) is coming to me a real face and a real messenger, (O) son of the goddess? Are you alive, or, if the kindly light has faded, where is Hector?' She spoke, and poured forth tears, and filled the whole place with her crying. I barely say a few (words) in reply to her as she sobs so passionately, and, deeply moved, I gasp in a broken voice: 'I live, indeed, yet I lead my life through all extremes (of suffering); (but) do not be in doubt, for you see real (things). Alas! what fate overtakes you in your fall from so great a husband, or what good fortune, worthy enough for Hector's Andromache visits you again? Do you (still) serve Pyrrhus in wedlock?'

b) From Andromache, Aeneas hears that the tale is true. She had been given to Helenus by Pyrrhus, when he wearied of her himself, and, after Pyrrhus had been killed by Orestes, Helenus succeeded to part of Pyrrhus' dominions (ll. 320-43). 

"She cast down her eyes, and spoke in a subdued voice: 'O happy before (all) others, that virgin daughter of Priam (i.e. Polyxena), sentenced to die at an enemy's grave (i.e. that of Achilles) under the high walls of Troy, who did not have to endure any of those allocations by lot, nor to have come (as) a captive to the bed of a victorious master! I, conveyed over alien seas from our burning native-land, have had to bear in child-bearing servitude (i.e. she had given birth to Molossus) the contempt and arrogant youth of Achilles' progeny; (he,) who then pursuing Leda's Hermione (i.e. the daughter of Helen and Menelaus) and a Lacedaemonian marriage, transferred (me), his female-slave to be held by Helenus, his male-slave. But, Orestes, inflamed by a great desire for his stolen bride, and harassed by the Furies for his crime (i.e. he had murdered his mother Clytemnestra for killing his father Agamemnon), catches him off his guard and butchers him at his father's altar. On the death of Neoptolemus (i.e. Pyrrhus), a part of his kingdom is restored and passed to Helenus, who called (it) by name the Chaonian plains and the whole (land) Chaonia after the Trojan Chaon, and built a Pergama and this Ilian citadel on the mountain ridge. But what winds, what fates gave you passage? But what god landed (you) unwittingly on our shores? What of the boy, Ascanius? Does he still live and enjoy the breezes? (he) whom you already (had) at Troy (N.B. This is the solitary instance in Virgil's works of a hemistich, where the sense is left incomplete) ... Does the boy still have any love for his lost mother? Do both his father Aeneas and his uncle Hector arouse any of their ancient valour and manly spirit?'

c) As Andromache is speaking, Helenus appears. He welcomes Aeneas to his city, which is built after the model of old Troy, and entertains his comapnions (ll. 344-355).

"Weeping, she poured forth such (words), and was beginning to produce a flood of vain lamentations, when Helenus, the heroic son of Priam approaches with a large number of companions, and he recognises (us) as his kinsmen and leads us joyfully to his gates, and sheds many tears between each of his words. I go forward and recognise a little Troy and a Pergama, built to resemble the great (one), and a dry river-bed by the name of Xanthus, and I embrace the door-posts of a Scaean gate. Moreover, the Teucrians also enjoy the friendly city with me: the king received (them) in his spacious colonnades; in the middle of the fore-court, they poured goblets of wine in libation, and held out their dishes with the feast being served on gold (plates).

9) THE PROPHECY OF HELENUS (LL. 356-462).

a) Wishing to sail to Italy, Aeneas consults Helenus about his proposed voyage, telling him that every divine intimation, save that of Celaeno, has been in favour of the journey to Italy, and asking him what he has to be on his guard against (ll. 356-373).

"And now a day, and another day, has passed, and the breezes invoke our sails, and the canvas is inflated by the south wind. With these words I accost the prophet, and request the following (things): '(O) Trojan-born interpreter of the gods, whose senses are alive to the will of Phoebus, the tripods, the laurel-trees of Clarios (i.e. Apollo) and the stars, the voices of birds and the omens of propitious flight, come, speak (to me): - for every divine utterance has spoken to me of a prosperous voyage, and all the gods, in (the expression of) their will, have urged (me) to make for Italy and to explore remote lands: only the Harpy, Celaeno, prophesies a strange portent, and a shame (it is) to tell (of it), and warns of baleful wrath and vile hunger - , first, what dangers shall I avoid? And, (by) following what (course), can I avoid such great troubles? Then, Helenus, after first slaughtering bullocks in accordance with custom, entreats the grace of the gods, and loosens the fillets around his hallowed head, and leads me, bewildered by your overwhelming presence, by his own hand to the threshold of your (shrine), (O) Phoebus, and then the priest utters these (words) from his divinely (inspired) lips:

b) Helenus tells Aeneas that his home in Italy was not as near as he thought, the neighbouring coasts being occupied by hostile Greek settlements, Aeneas was to sail around Sicily, and the sign of his home was to be the appearance of a white sow with thirty piglets on the bank of a river. In sailing past Sicily, he was to avoid the passage betwixt Scylla and Charybdis, for fear of destruction and to go round by Cape Pachernus. Special care was to be taken to propitiate Juno (ll. 374-395). 

" '(O) son of the goddess - for (there is) a clear assurance that you voyage through the deep (sea) with favourable auspices ; so the king of the gods allots our destiny and unrolls the succession (of events) - (so) that circle is turned around - , I shall explain a few (things) out of many in my words to you, so that you may traverse foreign seas the more safely and can come in to land at an Ausonian port; for the Fates prevent Helenus from knowing other (things), and Juno, the daughter of Saturn, forbids (him) to speak (to them). In the first (place), a long distant and trackless journey separates Italy, which you think (to be) now close at hand and in the neighbourhood, and, in your ignorance, you are preparing to enter its ports, from our far-away country. But before you can construct your city in a secure land, you must bend your oars in Trinacrian (i.e. Sicilian) waters and the salty sea of Ausonia, and the lakes of the underworld, and Circe's island of Aeaea, must be traversed by your ships. I shall tell (you) a sign, keep it stored in your heart: when a huge sow, discovered by you at an anxious moment by the waters of a secret river, will be lying under some holm-oaks along its banks, having just given birth to a litter thirty in number, reclining all white on the ground, her white piglets around her teats, that will be the place for your city, that (will be) a sure respite from your labours. Don't you shudder at the little bits of tables that await (you): fate will find a way, and, at your call, Apollo will be there (to help you).

c) In sailing past Sicily, Aeneas was to avoid the passage betwixt Scylla and Charybdis, for fear of destruction, and to go round by Cape Pachernus. Special care was to be taken to propitiate Juno (ll. 396-440). 

"But steer clear of these lands and this coastline of the Italian shore (i.e. the east coast of Italy, opposite Epirus), the nearest (part of) which is washed by the tide of our sea; all of its towns are inhabited by wicked Greeks. Here, the Locrians of Naryx have founded their city, and Idomeneus of Lyctos has beset the plains of the Sallentines with his soldiery; here (is) the famous little Petelia of Philotetes, the leader of the Meliboeans, sustained by its wall. Indeed, when your fleet has moved across the sea and lies at anchor, and you are about to pay your vows at the altars which you have already erected on the beach, veil your hair, covering (it) with a purple garment, lest some hostile face shall meet (you) amidst the sacred fires in honour of the gods, and spoil everything. Let your comrades keep this method of sacrifice, (and keep) it yourself: let your descendants remain pure in this religious observance. But, when, on your departure, the wind carries you to the coast of Sicily, and the barrier of the straits of Pelorus opens out, the land on your port (side) and the seas to port should be sought in a long circuit: avoid the shores and seas to your starboard (side) (i.e. do not pass between Scylla and Charybdis). They say that these lands one day broke apart, torn asunder by some vast upheaval - the long-standing antiquity of time can effect such change - , although both lands had been one continuous (block of land); the ocean came between them with its force and severed the Hesperian side (of Italy) from the Sicilian (side), and it flows in a narrow tide between fields and towns (now) separated by coast. On your starboard (side), Scylla blocks your way, and on your port (side is) the insatiable Charybdis, and three times (a day) she swallows vast floods (of sea) into her gulf (and) into the bottom of the vortex of her whirlpool, and ever again she hurls (them) up into the air in turn, and lashes the stars with her spray. But her cave keeps Scylla imprisoned in its hidden recesses, and she thrusts out her mouths and drags ships on to the rocks. On top she has the appearance of a human, and (she is) a maiden with a lovely breast down to her waist, but below (she is) a sea-monster with a monstrous body, with dolphins' tails joined to a belly (full) of wolves. It is better to go around the turning point of Trinacrian Pachynus, lingering and wheeling around the long course, than once to have beheld misshapen Scylla in her vast cave, and its rocks resounding with her sea-green hounds. Moreover, if Helenus possesses any wisdom, if there is any trust (to be given) to this prophet, (and) if Apollo fills his mind with the truth, this one (thing) shall I prophecy to you, (O) son of the goddess, and this one (thing) before everything (else), and I shall advise (you) repeatedly again and again: in your prayers worship the divine power of great Juno above all, and utter your vows willingly and win over your mighty mistress with a suppliant's gifts: so, at last, you will leave Trinacria behind and be dispatched to the borders of Italy victorious.

d) Aeneas is advised that, on his arrival in Italy, he was to go to Cumae and consult the Sibyl, who would tell him all about his future conflicts with the Italian nations in establishing his kingdom (ll. 441-462). 

"When, having been brought there, you approach the city of Cumae, and the haunted lakes of Avernus with its murmuring woods, you will catch sight of the frenzied prophetess, who sings of fate deep in the rock, and commits marks and names to leaves. Whatever prophecies the virgin writes down on leaves, she sorts into numerical order and leaves behind in her secluded cave. They remain unmoved in their places, nor do they get out of order; but yet, when a light wind has ruffled them, and the door, turning on its hinges, has disturbed the delicate leaves, never then does she care to take hold of them as they flutter about the hollow rock, nor to restore (them to) their places or to join the prophecies together. (People who have come to consult the oracle) depart without counsel, and hate the Sibyl's abode. May you experience no such loss through delay - although your comrades may chide (you), and your voyage may forcibly call your sails to the deep, and you can fill your canvas with favourable (winds) - , but may you go to the prophetess with prayers and plead that she should utter the oracles herself, and willingly unloose her voice and lips. The peoples and the forthcoming wars, and every means by which you may avoid or endure toil, those (things) she will explain to you, and, if duly besought, grant (you) a favourable  passage. These are (the things) of which you may be warned by my voice. Come (now), go your way, and raise mighty Troy to the stars by your deeds.'

10) THE DEPARTURE FROM CHAONIA (LL. 463-505).

a) Helenus then bestows magnificent gifts on Aeneas and his father (ll.463-471).

"After the seer had spoken these (words) thus with his friendly (lips), he then orders gifts, heavy with gold and carved ivory, to be taken to our ships, and into their hulls he crams a massive (weight of) silver and cauldrons from Dodona, a breastplate bound by hooks, and triple-meshed with gold, and the cone of a splendid helmet with a crest of horse-hair, the armour of Neoptolemus; there are gifts of his to my father as well. He also provides (us with) horses, and in addition he brings (us) guides (for the journey). He makes good (the number of) our oarsmen; (and) at the same time he equips my comrades with weapons.

b) Helenus bids Anchises farewell, and Andromache loads Ascanius with gifts (ll. 472-491).

"Meanwhile, Anchises bade the fleet rig its sails, so that there should be no delay in the case of a favouring wind. Phoebus' interpreter (i.e. Helenus) addresses him with much honour: '(O) Anchises, (you who were) deemed worthy of a proud union with Venus, charge of the gods, twice rescued from the ruins of Pergama, behold! your land of Ausonia; seize it with your sails! And yet you must slip past the nearest (coast) to the sea; that part of Ausonia which Apollo reveals (in his prophecy is) far away. Go your way,' he says, '(you who is) happy in the devotion of your son. Why do I carry on any further  and, by talking, delay the rising winds?' Andromache, no less sad at this final parting, brings garments embroidered with gold thread, and a Phrygian cloak for Ascanius - nor does she lag behind in honouring (him) - and loads (him) with woven gifts, and she says the following (words): 'Take these too, my boy, so that they may be to you the memorials of my hands, and may they testify to the lasting love of Andromache, the wife of Hector. Take these last gifts of your (kinsmen), O the sole surviving likeness to me of my Astyanax: thus he used to move his eyes, thus his hands, thus his face; and now he would be growing up equal to you in age.'

c) Aeneas bades both Helenus and Andromache farewell, contrasting their settled condition with his 
uncertain circumstances, and hoping that their prospective posterities might remain brother Trojans at heart (ll. 492-505). 

"As I was departing, I addressed them with tears welling up (in my eyes): 'Live happily, (O persons) for whom their destiny has already been accomplished; I am called from one fate to another. For you, your rest (is) won; you have no need to plough the surface of the sea; nor do you need to seek the ever receding fields of Ausonia. You see your likeness of (the River) Xanthus and a Troy which your own hands has been constructed under better auspices, I hope, (than the original Troy) and which will be less accessible to the Greeks. If ever I reach the Tiber, and the neighbouring fields of the Tiber, and I see the city granted to my people, we shall one day create in our hearts a single Troy from each of our kindred cities and allied peoples in Epirus and in Hesperia, who have the same Dardanus (as) founder and the same history; let that charge await our descendants.'

11) IN SIGHT OF ITALY (LL. 506-547).

a) They set sail again: night comes on: they land, and sleep till midnight, when they are roused by their pilot Palinurus, and they put to sea again (ll. 506-520).

"We sail out on the sea close to the nearby Ceraunian (promontory), from where the journey and passage to Italy by sea (is) the shortest. Meanwhile, the sun sinks (into the sea) and the mountains are shrouded in darkness; after sharing out the oars, we lay ourselves down in the lap of our chosen (piece of) land at the water's (edge), and rest our bodies (which are scattered) in all directions on the beach; sleep refreshes our weary limbs. Nor yet has Night, led by the hours, come to the middle of its cycle: no sluggard, Palinurus rises from his bunk and investigates every wind and catches the air with his ears (i.e. listens for a gale); he carefully checks every constellation gliding in the silent sky, Arcturus, and the rainy Hyades, and the twin Bears (i.e. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor), and he surveys Orion with his golden (sword). When he sees that everything in the clear sky is in place, he gives a loud signal from the stern; we strike camp and start out on our journey, and we spread the wings of our sails.

b) As the day dawned, the Trojans caught their first sight of Italy, and raised a shout of welcome, while Anchises made a prayer to heaven. They put to shore in a harbour overlooked by a temple of Minerva. Four white horses are seen grazing, an omen which Anchises interprets as significant of both war and peace. The Trojans pay their devotions to Pallas and Juno, with their heads covered as Helenus had enjoined them (ll. 521-547).

"And now, the stars having been put to flight, Dawn was growing red (in the sky), when we see in the distance the dark hills and the low-lying (coastline) of Italy. Achates is the first to to cry out 'Italy', and my companions salute 'Italy' with a joyful shout. Then father Anchises decorated a great mixing-bowl with a wreath, and filled (it) with wine, and, standing on the lofty stern, he called upon the gods (as follows): '(You) Gods who rule the sea, the earth and storms, give (us) an easy journey with wind, and blow (upon us) with favourable (winds).' The desired breezes become frequent, and a harbour opens up (before us) quite near at hand already, and a temple appears on the heights of Minerva. My comrades furl the sails and turn their prows towards the shore. The harbour (is) curved into (the shape of) a bow by (the action of) the East Wind on the waves, (and) the projecting rocks foam with salt spray; itself, it lies concealed; towering rocks let down their arms in a double wall, and the temple recedes from the shore. Here, (as) our first omen, I saw four horses, snowy white (in colour), grazing on grass on the broad plain. And father Anchises cries out: 'O foreign land, you bring (us) war; these horses are armed for war, these herds are threatening war. But yet these same four-footed beasts (will) one day be accustomed to take on a chariot, and, when yoked, will endure a harmonious bridle; there's also a hope of peace.' Then, we pray to the divine power of Pallas, resounding with arms, who was the first to welcome us, rejoicing (as we were), and we veil our heads before the altars in Phrygian cloth; in accordance with the behests of Helenus, which he had most particularly given us, we duly burn the sacrificial offerings to Argive Juno as we have been bidden.

12) THE APPROACH TO ITALY (LL. 548-587).

a) Setting sail once more, the Trojans pass by Tarentum, and come within sight of Mount Aetna. They manage to avoid Charybdis but are tossed by the waves, till at last at evening time they land in the territory of the Cyclopes (ll. 548-569).

As soon as our vows have been duly performed, we turn the tips of the sail-yards covered with the sails (to the wind) without delay, and we leave those dwellings of men of Greek stock, and their suspect fields. Then is seen the bay of Tarentum, founded by Hercules, if the story is true; opposite (to it) towers the temple of the Lacinian goddess (i.e. Juno); and (there are) the fortress of Caulon and Scylaceum, that wrecker of ships. Then, Trinacrian Aetna is seen from afar, (rising) out of the water, and we hear from a distance the tremendous groaning of the sea, and the pounding rocks, and the roar of the breakers (crashing) on the shore, and the shallow waters boil up and sand is mingled together with the surf. And father Anchises  (cries out): 'Undoubtedly this (is) that Charybdis: Helenus warned (us) of these crags, (and of) these dreadful rocks. Pull away, O my comrades, and rise to your oars together!' They do just as they have been instructed, and Palinurus was the first to turn his creaking prow towards the waters on his port (side). The whole fleet headed to port by oar and by wind. We are lifted skywards by an arching wave from the deep, and, likewise, when the water was sucked away, we sank to the deepest Shades. Three times the crags gave out a booming noise amid their hollow rocks (i.e. their rocky caves); three times we saw the foam exploding and the stars dripping. Meanwhile, the wind and the sun have left us exhausted, and unaware of the route we drift towards the coast of the Cyclopes.

b) The Trojans found a sound and spacious harbour; but they were disturbed all night by the sight and sounds of Aetna, which they could not see for the darkness. Legends attribute the convulsions of the mountain to the movements of the giant Enceladus, whom Jupiter had placed beneath it (ll. 570-587).

(There is) a harbour, untroubled by the presence of the winds, and spacious (in) itself; but close by (Mount) Aetna thunders away with its dreadful eruptions; and from time to time it projects a black cloud into the sky, smoking with a whirlwind of pitch and white-hot lava, and it tosses up balls of flame and licks the stars; intermittently belching forth rocks and the torn entrails of the mountain, it heaves (them) up into the air, and it gathers molten rocks into a ball with a groan, and seethes in its lowest depths. The story is that the body of Enceladus, half-consumed by a thunderbolt, is weighed down by this heavy mass, and that mighty Aetna lying on top (of him) exhales fire from its broken furnaces, and that whenever he wearily turns from side to side, the whole of Trinacria shudders with his rumbling and obscures the sky with smoke. That night, hidden in the woods, we endure monstrous portents, nor do we see what reason is causing the sound. For there were no fires among the stars , nor (was there) a clear vault in the starry sky, but (there were) clouds in the dark heavens, and a stormy night kept the moon among rain-clouds.

13) ACHAEMENIDES (LL. 588-654).

a) In the morning, the Trojans see a ragged and emaciated man, evidently a Greek, advancing towards them. He begs the Trojans to take him with them or kill him. They reassure him, and ask him to tell them his story (ll. 588-612).

"And now the next day was rising with the first (light) in the East, and Dawn had dispersed the dewy darkness from the sky: when suddenly there came out of the woods the strange of an unknown man, worn out, and in the last extremity of thinness, and in pitiable clothing, and he stretches forth his hands towards the shore (as) a suppliant. We turn round and look (at him): (oh,) the dreadful filth, and the shaggy beard, the covering held together with thorns, but in other respects a Greek, and in the past we had been sent to Troy in his father's arms. And he, when he saw from a distance their Dardanian dress and Trojan arms, he hesitated a little, terrified at the sight (of them), and checked his step; then, he rushed headlong to the shore with weeping and prayers: 'I appeal (to you) by the stars, by the gods above, by this life-giving light of heaven, take me (aboard), (O) Teucrians. take me away to whatever lands you wish; that will be enough (for me). I know that I am a man from the Danaan fleet, and I confess that I assailed the household gods of Ilium in warfare; in return for this, if the wrongfulness of my crime is so great, fling me piecemeal into the waves and bury (me) in the vast ocean. If I do perish, I shall be happy to perish at the hands of men.' He finished speaking, and clasped our knees, and to our knees he clung, grovelling. We exhort him to tell us who he is, and from what stock (he is) sprung, and to confess what misfortune has since then been pursuing (him). Father Anchises, himself, after no great delay, offers the young man his right (hand), and steadies his mind with an immediate pledge (of safety). At last he lays aside his terror and speaks the following (words):

b) The poor man said his name was Achaemenides; he has been at Troy with Ulysses, and on the voyage home had inadvertently been left in the cave of the Cyclops. He described to us the death of his comrades and the vengeance Ulysses then took, and advises us to fly at once, as there were many other giants besides the one who had been blinded. He himself had been in the island for three months, subsisting as best he could, and only wished to be removed from it (ll. 613-654).


" 'I am from the land of Ithaca, a companion of the luckless Ulysses, Achaemenides by name, (and) my father Adamastus (being) poor - would that my humble lot had stayed (that way)! - I set out for Troy. My comrades abandoned me in the vast cave of the Cyclops, forgetful (of me), while they hurriedly leave that savage threshold. (It is) a house of gore and cruel feasts, dark (and) huge within; (he,) himself, (is) of great height and he knocks (his head) against the lofty stars - (O) Gods, remove such a scourge from the earth! - nor (is he) gracious in his aspect or affable to anyone in his speech. He feeds on the flesh and the dark blood of wretched (men). With my own eyes I saw (him), when, lying back in the middle of the cave, he seized the bodies of two of our number in his great hand, and dashed (them) on the rock, and the threshold was bespattered and swimming with gore; I saw (him) when he munched their limbs dripping with dark putrid matter, and the warm body parts quivered under his teeth. But Ulysses did not suffer such things to happen with impunity, nor did the Ithacan forget himself (i.e. his cunning) at such a critical moment. For, as soon as he, gorged with his feast and buried in wine, relaxed his drooping neck, and sprawled, immense (in size), across the cave, vomiting during his sleep gore and morsels (of flesh) mixed together with undiluted wine streaked with blood, we, (while) praying to the great gods and sharing out our tasks, spread with one (accord) all around (him) and, with a sharpened stake, pierce his eye - a monstrous (eye), which lay hidden, one only, beneath his grim forehead, like an Argive shield (i.e. these were round) or Phoebus' lamp (i.e. the sun) - , and at last we gleefully avenge our comrades' shades. But flee, (O) wretched (men), flee and uproot your cables from the beach. For, just as Polyphemus pens his fleecy sheep in his hollow cave and squeezes their teats (for milk), (there are) a hundred other of these horrendous Cyclopes, just as large (as him), (who) dwell far and wide near these winding shores and wander among these high mountains. Three times now the moon's horns are filling themselves with light, while I drag out my existence in the woods among the desolate dens and lairs of wild beasts, and I keep watch on the gigantic Cyclopes from a rock, and shudder at the sound of their feet and voices. The boughs yield a wretched sustenance, berries and stony cornel-nuts, and grass, torn up (from the soil) by its roots, feeds (me). Although I have been surveying everything, this fleet (of yours) is the first I have caught sight of coming in to shore. To this (fleet), whatever it should prove to be, I totally surrendered (myself): it is enough (for me) to have escaped from this abominable tribe. Rather do you take away this life of mine by whatever death you wish.'

14) POLYPHEMUS (LL. 655-691).

a) As Achaemenides was speaking, the blind monster Polyphemus appeared from the mountain with his sheep, and advanced into the water, which did not reach his sides. The Trojans put to sea quickly, while he strode after them; but, finding they outstripped him, he cried out (ll. 655-674). 

"Scarcely had he said these words, when we see on the top of the mountain the shepherd Polyphemus himself, hauling his enormous bulk among his sheep and seeking the well-known shores, a dreadful monster, shapeless, gigantic, (and) bereft of his sight. A pine-tree, trimmed (of its branches) by hand, guides and steadies his footsteps; his fleecy sheep accompany (him) - they (are) his sole pleasure and (the one) solace of his misfortune. When he reached the deep waters and came to the (deep) sea he washes therein the blood flowing from his gouged-out eye(-socket), grinding his teeth with a groan, and now he strides through the midst of the sea, nor yet does the sea wet his towering flanks. Alarmed, we hurry far away from there, with the suppliant having been so deservedly rescued, and silently cut the cable, and, bending forwards, we churn the surface of the sea with contending oars. He (i.e. Polyphemus) heard (us), and turned his footsteps towards the sound of the voice (i.e. the voice of the 'coach' who marks the time for each stroke). But, when no opportunity is given him to clutch (us) with his hand, nor can he keep up with the Ionian waves in pursuing (us), he raises a tremendous cry, at which the ocean and all its waves shuddered and the entire land of Italy (was) startled, and Aetna bellowed within its vaulted caverns.

b) In answer to Polyphemus' cry, his giant brethren throng the shore. The Trojans hurries away, not knowing in which direction they were going, but anxious to avoid Scylla and Charybdis. A breeze sprung up from the north and carried them along, Achaemenides being their guide (ll. 675-691).

"But the tribe of the Cyclopes, aroused from the woods and the high mountains, rush to the harbour and throng the shore. We discern the Aetnaean brotherhood standing there powerless, with glaring eye, (and) bearing their heads high in the sky, a fearsome gathering: just like oak-trees, with their tops towering in the air, or cone-bearing cypresses, stand firm in Jupiter's high forest or Diana's (sacred) grove. Sharp terror drives (us) headlong to shake out our rigging and to spread our sails to the favouring winds in whatever direction (we might be carried). On the other hand, Helenus' injunctions warn (them) not to hold their course between Scylla and Charybdis, each a way of death with little difference (between them); (so) we resolve to set our sails (to go) back. And lo! the North Wind is with us, having been sent from the narrow fastness of (Cape) Pelorus. I am carried past the mouth of the (River) Pantagia and the bay of Megara  and (low-)lying Thapsus. Such (names) did Achaemenides, the companion of the luckless Ulysses point out (to me), as he retraced in reverse order the shores which he had wandered over (before).

15) THE DEATH OF ANCHISES (LL. 692-718).

a) The Trojans sail by Plemyrium, Helorus, Pachynum, Camarina, Gela, Acragas, Selinus, Lilybaeum and Drepanum. At the last of these places Aeneas loses his father, Anchises - a most heavy and unexpected blow. Sailing on from there, he was driven on to the North African coast by a storm (ll. 692-715).

"Stretched in front of a Sicanian bay lies an island opposite wave-tossed Plemyrium; the men of old called its name Ortygia. The story is that Alpheus, the river of Elis, drove a secret passage beneath the sea; now, it is merged with Sicilian waters at your fountain, Arethusa. As instructed, we offer worship to the great deities of the place; and from there I pass by the fertile soil of the marshy (River) Helorus. Then, we skirt the lofty crags and jutting rocks of (Cape) Pachynus, and Camarina, never allowed by the Fates to be moved, appears in the distance, and the Geloan plains and Gela, called by the name of its immense river. Then, steep Acragas, once the breeder of spirited horses, displays its massive walls from a distance. And, having been granted the winds, I leave you behind, (O) palm-clad Selinus, and I pick my way through the rough shoals (and) the hidden reefs of Lilybaeum. Next the harbour of Drepanum, and its joyless shore, receives me. Here, after so many storms at sea had been managed, I lose my father Anchises, the solace of my every care and mishap: here, (O) best of fathers, you abandon me, exhausted (as I am), alas, rescued in vain from so many perils! Neither the prophet Helenus, though he warned (me) of many terrors, nor the dreaded Celaeno, predicted this grief to me. This (was) the final agony, this (was) the goal of my long journeys. On my departure from there, the god drove me to your shores."

b) So Aeneas ends his story (ll. 716-718).

Thus father Aeneas, with all eyes fixed (on him), recounted alone the decrees of the gods, and told (the story of) his voyages. At last, he fell silent, and making an end (here), he retired to rest.

Sunday 17 September 2017

VIRGIL: AENEID BOOK XI : CAMILLA'S FINEST HOUR

Introduction.


Although Book XI is probably one of the least read of the twelve books of the "Aeneid", it is full of examples of the high quality of Virgil's hexameter verse, to which Sabidius has paid tribute previously in the introductions to his translations of other works by the poet on this blogspot. The sorrow and guilt felt by Aeneas at the death of Pallas, and the lamentations of his father Evander are expressed in verses which feature Virgil's ability to engender a very moving sense of pathos, and these tones of pathos reappear in Aeneas' outburst against the horrors of war, and when Latinus proposes generous terms to settle the dispute with the Trojans, and also at the end of the book when the warrior-maid Camilla dies. Much of the book deals with the upbringing, deeds and death of Camilla, whose Amazonian aristeia makes her a much more sympathetic personality than the violent and bullying Turnus, her ally, and the cunning and cowardly Arruns, who successfully plots her downfall.  The book describes the gruesome deaths of many warriors on both sides of the struggle between the Latins and Rutulians on the one hand and the Trojan exiles, and their Arcadian and Etruscan allies on the other; and Virgil uses Homer's 'Iliad' as a treasury for parallel descriptions of martial action. Throughout the book Virgil uses both prosodic and alliterative techniques to illustrate and bring to life the passages of his narrative. As in the case of the other books in the second half of this great poetic work, one can well imagine just how fascinating the details of the story Virgil has to tell must have been for his Roman audience, who will not, of course, have been able to identify easily with one side or the other in what would to them have felt effectively like a civil war. Furthermore, the host of small details that he inserts - for instance, the information that Camilla's name was a variant of her mother's name, Casmilla - adds a degree of verisimilitude to the narrative that is almost irresistible  in its appeal to the reader. 

The text, which Sabidius has used for this translation is taken from "Virgil: Aeneid VII-XII" in Virgil II, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb Classical Library (2002). This translation has also taken account of the English translation attached to this edition, as well as "Virgil: the Major Works," translated by A.S. Kline (2001-02), and available on line, and the commentary by John Connington (1876), which is available on the Perseus website. A further source of support to Sabidius has come from "Virgil: Aeneid VII-XII, edited by R. Deryck Williams, Bristol Classical Press (1973). 


In his translation, Sabidius, as is his wont, seeks to keep as closely as possible to the actual words and grammatical structure employed by Virgil, while at the same time using English which is readily understandable. At the end of the translation Sabidius enumerates some of the grammatical and prosodic irregularities, which appear in this book.

1) AENEAS MOURNS PALLAS (LL. 1-99).


a) Having set up a trophy to the God of War in celebration of his victory over Mezentius, Aeneas exhorts his men to attend to the burial of their dead comrades (ll. 1-28).


Meanwhile, Dawn rose and left the Ocean: although his sorrows urge (him) to give time to the burial of his comrades, and his mind is disturbed by the death (i.e. that of Pallas), Aeneas, as the victor, began to pay his vows to the gods,  as soon as the Morning Star rose. He plants a huge oak-tree, its branches lopped on all sides, on a mound, and decks (it) out with the shining armour stripped from the chief Mezentius (as) a trophy to you, great God of War; (to it) he fastens crests dripping with blood, and the warrior's broken spears, and his breast-plate battered and pierced in twelve places, and he binds his bronze shield to his left (hand) and hangs his ivory-hilted sword from his neck. Then, he begins to exhort his rejoicing comrades - for the whole band of chieftains crowded around him in a circle - as follows: "Great things have been done (by us), my men; for the future, away with all fear; these are the spoils and the first fruits of a proud king, (and) here, by my efforts, is Mezentius. Now, we must march towards Latium's king and walls. Prepare your weapons with courage and anticipate this war with hope, so that, as soon as the gods above give us the nod to take up our standards and lead our army out of the camp, no delay may impede us unexpectedly, or any cowardly feeling hold (us) back through fear. Meanwhile, let us commit the unburied bodies of our comrades to the earth, which is the only courtesy (recognised) in the depths of Acheron (i.e. the Underworld). Go," he says, "honour with your last gifts these noble spirits, who have procured this country for us with their blood, and first let Pallas be sent to the grieving city of Evander, (he) whom, (though) not wanting in courage, a black day stole away and immersed in a bitter death."

b) Aeneas joins those who are mourning Pallas, and addresses the dead boy, reproaching both himself and Fortune, and expressing his compassion for Evander (ll. 29-58). 

So he speaks weeping, and he retraces his footsteps to the threshold (of the tent) where old Acoetes was watching over the body of the lifeless Pallas, (which had been) laid (there), (that Acoetes) who had once been armour-bearer to Parrhasian (i.e. Arcadian) Evander, but then, under less happy auspices, went (as) the appointed companion to his beloved foster-child. Around (stand) all his band of attendants, and a crowd of Trojans, and the women of Ilium, their hair loosened for mourning in accordance with custom. But, as Aeneas entered the lofty portals, they beat their breasts, and raised a mighty cry of lamentation to the heavens, and the royal palace resounds with their sorrowful wailing. When he saw the head and face of snowy-white Pallas propped up (on a couch), and the open wound from an Ausonian (i.e. Italian) spear on his smooth breast, he speaks thus amid welling tears: "Did Fortune begrudge you to me, unhappy boy," he says, "when she came smiling, so that you would not see my kingdom, nor ride back, victorious, to your father's house? This (was) not the promise concerning you I had given to your father, Evander, on leaving, when he embraced me as I was going, and sent (me) to (win) a great empire and anxiously warned (me) that the (enemy's) men were brave, with a stock (which was) tough in war. And now, utterly deluded by vain hopes, he even perhaps offers vows and piles the altars high with gifts, (while) we, in sorrow, attend with empty rites the lifeless young man, (who) no longer owes any (debt) to any of the gods above. Unhappy (man), you will see the cruel funeral of your son! (Is) this our return and our (long) awaited triumph? (Is) this my great pledge? But, Evander, you will not look upon (your son struck down) by shameful wounds (while) in flight, nor will you, (as) a father, long for an accursed death because your son (has returned) unharmed. Ah me! how great a protection you are losing, Ausonia, and how great (a protection you are losing too), Iülus!"

c) The funeral procession is formed, and Pallas' body placed on the bier, with spoils and human victims to accompany it. Aeneas briefly bids the corpse farewell (ll. 59-99).

When he had finished these bitter lamentations, he bids (them) raise the piteous corpse, and he sends a thousand men, picked from the whole of his army, to attend the last rites, and share in the father's tears, a meagre solace for such great grief, but due (indeed) to such a distressed father. Others, in haste, interweave a soft bier of wickerwork with shoots of arbutus and twigs of oak, and they cover the couch which (they have) heaped up with a canopy of leaves. Here, they lay the youth high on his rustic litter, like a flower picked by a maiden's fingers, or a tender violet or a drooping hyacinth, whose sheen and particular beauty have still not faded; (but) mother earth no longer nurtures (it) or gives (it) strength. Then, Aeneas brought out two robes, stiff with gold and purple (embroidery), which Sidonian Dido, herself, delighting in the task, had once made for him with her own hands, and had interwoven the texture with gold thread. Sadly, he drapes one of these around the youth (as) a last honour, and veils with its cloth the locks of hair that will soon be burned, and, in addition, he piles up many of the prizes (which he had won) in the battle of the Laurentian (fields), and orders the spoils to be borne in a long line; he adds the horses and weapons which he had plundered from the enemy. He had bound behind their backs the hands (of those) whom he had planned to send (as) funeral offerings to the shades, in order to sprinkle the flames with the blood of the dying, and he gives instructions for the chieftains, themselves, to carry the tree-trunks draped in the enemy's  weapons, and for the names of the foe to be affixed (to them). Unhappy Acoetes, worn out by age, marring now his chest with his fists, now his face with his nails, falls with his whole body prostrate on the ground;  and they also lead chariots drenched in Rutulian blood. Behind goes the war-horse Aethon, weeping, and he wets his face with big tear-drops. Some carry his spear and helmet, for Turnus possesses the other (things as) victor. Then follows a mournful host, Teucrians, all the Etruscans and Arcadians, with their weapons reversed. When the whole line of his comrades had proceeded for some distance, Aeneas halted and with a deep sigh added the following (words): "The same grim destiny of war calls me hence to other tears: my greetings forever, noble Pallas, farewell forever." Without speaking any further, he proceeded to the lofty walls, and directed his footsteps towards the camp.

2) AENEAS OFFERS PEACE (LL. 100-138).

a) An embassy comes from Latium, begging for a truce to bury the dead. Aeneas addresses them soothingly, grants their request, and suggests that the war be decided by single combat between himself and Turnus (ll. 100-121). 

And now ambassadors came from the Latin city (i.e. Lavinium) wrapped in olive branches and seeking favour (for their plea): (they beg) that he would return the bodies which lay strewn by the sword across the plain and allow them to be placed under a mound of earth; (there can be) no quarrel with the vanquished and (those) deprived of the light (of day); let him spare (those who were) once called their hosts and their fathers-in-law. Aeneas courteously honours their prayers with a truce he could not spurn, and adds these words in addition: "What an undeserved misfortune, Latins, has entangled you in such a war that you flee from us (who are) your friends? Are you asking me for peace for the dead and for (those) who have been slain by the lot of war? I, indeed, would willingly have granted (it) to the living as well. I would not have come, if fate had not granted (me) this place to settle in, nor do I wage war on your people: your king abandoned our guest-friendship and entrusted himself rather to the arms of Turnus. It would have been more just for Turnus to expose himself to this death. If he is preparing to end this war by force and to drive out the Teucrians, he should have fought with me with these weapons: he would have survived, to whom god or his own right (hand) had granted life. Now go and kindle fire beneath your luckless countrymen." Aeneas finished speaking. They were struck dumb in silence, and they turned their eyes on one another and kept their faces (still).

b) Drances, one of the Latins, assures Aeneas of their gratitude and sympathy. Each side cuts down trees for funeral piles (ll. 122-138).

Then, Drances, an elder, always hostile to the young Turnus with his hatred and his accusations, in turn begins to speak as follows: "O Trojan hero, great in renown and greater in arms, with what praises can I equate you with the sky? Should I marvel mainly at your (sense of) justice or your efforts in war? Indeed, we shall gratefully carry back these (words of yours) to our native city, and, if some good-fortune grants a way, we shall ally you to our king, Latinus. Let Turnus seek treaties for himself. Indeed, it will even be a delight (for us) to raise the massive walls appointed by fate and to bear on our shoulders the stones of Troy." He finished speaking these (words), and with one voice they all murmured the same (sentiments). They agreed (a truce) for twelve days, and, under the protection of the truce, Teucrians and Latins, intermingled, roamed through the forests and on the mountain ridges in safety. The tall ash resounds under the two-headed axe, they fell pine-trees that soared up to the heavens, and they do not cease splitting oak-trees and the fragrant cedar with wedges, nor carrying away manna ash-trees in creaking wagons.

3) EVANDER MOURNS PALLAS (LL. 139-181).

(The news has reached Pallanteum before the procession arrives. Evander rushes to meet the bier, bewails his son's rashness and his own length of life, but finds comfort in Pallas' trophies and sends a message to Aeneas, praying for revenge on Turnus.)

And by now Rumour in her flight, the harbinger of such great grief, fills (the ears of) Evander and Evander's palace and city, (that Rumour) which only recently was carrying (the news of) Pallas (as) victor in Latium. The Arcadians rushed to the gates, and, in accordance with ancient custom, snatched up torches for the funeral; the road is lit up with a long line of flames, and this picks out the fields far into the distance. As it comes to meet (them), the troop of Phrygians (i.e. Trojans) joins the column of mourners. When the women saw (them) coming near to their houses, they set the grief-stricken city ablaze with their cries. Then, there is no force (which) can restrain Evander, but he rushes into their midst. As soon as the bier is set down, he flings himself on top of Pallas, and clings (to him) with tears and groans, and at long last a path for his voice was, with difficulty, opened up by his grief: "This (was) not the promise (which) you gave to your father, O Pallas, that you would entrust yourself to the savage God of War with some caution. I was not unaware of how great fresh glory in arms and the very sweet honour (won) in first conflict can be. (O) the bitter first-fruits of youth and the harsh schooling of a war so near, and (alas! for) my vows and prayers, unheard by any of the gods! And you, O my queen of blessed memory, happy (are you) in your death, nor were you saved to (experience) this sorrow. On the other hand, I, by living on, have exceeded my destiny, (and) I have been left as a father, surviving (his son). Would that the Rutulians had overwhelmed (me) with their spears as (I) followed the allied arms of the Trojans! I should have given my life, and this procession should have carried me, not Pallas, home! (Yet), I would not blame you, Teucrians, or our treaty or the hands which we joined in friendship: this fate was owed to my old age. But if a premature death awaited my son, it will be a matter of joy (to me) that he fell, leading the Teucrians into Latium, after first slaying thousands of Volscians. Indeed, I could deem you worthy of no other funeral, Pallas, than (the one which) pious Aeneas, and which the mighty Phrygians, and which the Tyrrhenian (i.e. Etruscan) chieftains and the whole Tyrrhenian army (have chosen for you). (Those) to whom your right (hand) deals death bring mighty trophies; you too, Turnus, would now be standing (here), a monstrous tree-trunk (decked) in arms, (if) his age had been equal (to yours), and if his strength as measured in years (had been) the same (as yours). But why, unhappy (as I am), do I detain (you) Teucrians from battle? Go, and remember to take my messages to your king: if I prolong a life (which is) hateful (to me), now that Pallas has been slain, the reason is your right (hand), which you know owes Turnus to both son and father. This opportunity alone is open to your merits and your good fortune. I ask not for joy in life - nor (is it) possible -, but to bear (joyful tidings) to my son in the Shades beneath."

4) THE FUNERAL PYRES (LL. 182-224).

a) The Trojans burn their dead, following their customary rites (ll. 182-202).

Meanwhile, Dawn had raised up her kindly light for wretched men, recalling (them) to work and toil: now father Aeneas, now Tarchon, had erected pyres on the winding shore. Here, in accordance with the custom of their ancestors, they each brought the bodies of their (people), and, as the smoky fires are lit beneath, the high heavens are shrouded in darkness by a mist. Three times they went in procession around the blazing funeral piles, clad in their shining armour, three times they circled around the mournful funeral fire on horseback, and gave tongue to loud lamentations; and the earth is besprinkled with their tears, (and) their armour is besprinkled too: the cries of men, and the blare of trumpets, goes up to the sky. Then, some fling on to the fire spoils stripped from slain Latins, helmets and handsome swords, bridles and red-hot wheels; others, familiar offerings, their own shields, and their luckless weapons. Round about (these), many heads of cattle are sacrificed to Death, and over the flames they cut the throats of bristling boars and flocks seized from every field. Then, they watch their comrades burning all along the shore, and keep guard over the charred pyres, and they cannot be torn away (from them), until the humid night comes rolling over the sky (which is) studded with blazing stars.  

b) The Latins burn their dead also, burying them on the third day. There is a strong feeling against Turnus in the city, aggravated by Drances, but Turnus has his supporters too (ll. 203-224).

No less did the wretched Latins also construct countless pyres in different places, and, of the many bodies of men, some they bury in the earth and some they lift up and carry to the neighbouring fields or send back to their city; the rest, a vast pile of indistinguishable slaughter, they burn without count and without honour: then, in all directions, the broad fields compete in shining with their clusters of fire. The third dawn had dispersed the chill shadow from the sky: grieving, they raked from the pyres the deep (pile of) ash and the intermingled bones, and heaped a mound of warm earth (on top). But now, the main (source of) the clamour and the chief centre of the prolonged lamentation (comes) from the houses in the city of the very rich Latinus. Here, the mothers and their wretched daughters-in-law, and the loving hearts of grieving sisters and of boys deprived of their fathers curse the dreadful war and Turnus' wedding (plans); they decree that he, himself, and only he, (the man) who demands the kingdom of Italy and its foremost honours, should decide (the issue) with his armour and sword. The furious Drances adds his weight to this, and bears witness that Turnus alone was summoned (by Aeneas), that (he) alone was challenged to combat. At the same time, (there are) many contrary opinions, with different arguments on behalf of Turnus, and the queen's great name (i.e. that of Amata) shelters (him), (while) his great fame, (earned) by the trophies he has won, gains the hero support.

5) AN ANSWER FROM ARPI (LL. 225-295).

a) The feeling is aggravated by the return of the deputation sent to Diomedes without success. A council is summoned, and the leader starts to report the result of his mission (ll. 225-242).

Amidst these disturbances, (and) in the middle of this fiery tumult, behold, on top of (everything else), his gloomy envoys bring an answer from the city of the great Diomedes (i.e. Arpi): nothing (had been) achieved despite all the great efforts they had expended, neither had their gifts, nor their gold, nor their heartfelt prayers availed anything, (but) the Latins must seek other arms or they must sue for peace with the Trojan king. Even King Latinus is overcome by his great grief: the anger of the gods, and the fresh graves before his eyes, warn (him) that Aeneas is brought (to them as a man) of destiny by the clear will of heaven. Therefore, he summons his high council and the leaders of his (people) by (royal) command, and gathers (them) within his lofty portals. They assembled, and flock to the royal palace through the crowded streets. Latinus, both the greatest in age and the foremost in authority, sits in their midst with a joyless brow. And he bids his envoys, (who have) returned from the Aetolian city, tell what (tidings) they bring back, and he demands full answers in their turn. Then, silence falls on (all) tongues, and Venulus, obedient  to his command, begins to speak as follows:

b) Diomedes warns the envoys, by his example and that of the other Greeks, and advises them to conciliate Aeneas, whose prowess he extols (ll. 243-295).

"O citizens, we have seen Diomedes and his Argive camp, and, (in) completing our journey, we have overcome all hazards, and have grasped the hand, by which the land of Ilium fell. (As) victor over the fields of Iapygia on (Mount) Garganus (i.e. in Apulia), he was (busy) founding the city of Argyripa (i.e. Arpi), named after his father's race. When we had entered, and the opportunity (was) given (to us) of speaking in his presence, we offer (him) our gifts and inform (him) of our name and country, of who has made war (upon us), (and) what reason has drawn (us) to Arpi. Having heard (us), he replied thus with a calm countenance: 'O happy peoples, from the realms of Saturn, ancient (sons of) Ausonia, what chance (event) disturbs your peace, and urges (you) to provoke warfare (in which you) lack experience? We, who violated the fields of Ilium with our swords - I omit those (things) which (were) endured to the end in the fighting beneath her high walls, (and) those warriors, whose (bodies) the famous (River) Simois (now) conceals - have suffered unspeakable tortures and every kind of punishment for our crimes throughout the world, a band (of men) worthy to be pitied even by Priam: Minerva's baleful star, and the crags of Euboea, and the avenging (Cape) Caphereus, bear witness to (it). Driven from that warfare to remote shores, Menelaus, the son of Atreus, is an exile as far as the Pillars of Proteus (i.e. the island of Pharos, off Alexandria in Egypt), (and) Ulysses has seen the Cyclopes of (Mount) Aetna. Even the Mycenaean leader of the mighty Achaeans (i.e. Agamemnon) died at the hand of his atrocious wife (i.e. Clytemnestra) as soon as (he was) over the threshold; an adulterer (i.e. Aegisthus) lay in wait for the conqueror of Asia. Need I speak of the kingdom of Neoptolemus and the household of Idomeneus being overthrown? Or of the Locrians living on the coast of Libya? Or of how the gods begrudged that, having returned to my native altars, I might see the wife I longed for and my lovely Calydon (i.e. Diomedes' birthplace in Aetolia)? Now even portents dreadful to see pursue (me), and my lost comrades, (like) birds, have made for the sky on their wings, and haunt the streams - alas! the dreadful sufferings of my (people) - and fill the rocks with their mournful cries. This was just (what) I had to expect from that moment, when, I madly attacked those celestial bodies with my sword and harmed Venus' hand with a wound. But do not, do not impel me into such conflicts (as these). I (do) not (have) any quarrel with the Teucrians, since Pergama (i.e. the citadel of Troy) (has been) demolished, nor do I think about, or rejoice over, those former unhappy (times). Direct the gifts which you bring to me from your native shores to Aeneas. I have stood against his fierce weapons and have fought (him) hand-to-hand: trust (one) who has experienced (it), how mightily he rises up upon his shield, (and) with what a whirlwind he hurls his spear. Moreover, if the land of Ida had borne two men such as (him), the Dardanian (i.e. the Trojans as a whole) would have come against the cities of Inachus (i.e. the cities of Greece in general) of his own accord, and Greece would be in mourning, with fate having been reversed. Whatever (time) was spent before the walls of stubborn Troy, the victory of the Greeks was checked by the hands of Hector and Aeneas, and our return was delayed to the tenth year. Both (were) renowned for their courage, both (were renowned) for their excellence in arms, (but) the latter (was) foremost in piety. May your hands be joined in a treaty, on whatever (terms) are offered; but beware lest your arms clash with (his) arms.' You have heard, noblest of kings, both what were the responses of the king at the time, and what his advice was on our great war."

6) LATINUS' PROPOSALS (LL. 296-335).

a) After Venulus' speech, Latinus prepares to speak to the assembly (ll. 296-301). 

Scarcely (had) the envoys (said) these (things), when a murmur of conflicting (opinions) ran across the troubled lips of the (sons of) Ausonia, like, when rocks obstruct rapidly flowing rivers, a roar rises from the blocked eddies, and the neighbouring banks echo with splashing waves. As soon as their minds (are) calm and their anxious lips are quiet, the King, calling first upon the gods, begins (to speak) from his lofty throne:

b) Latinus proposes that a part of his kingdom be assigned to the Trojans, or that they should fit out a fleet for them to go elsewhere; furthermore, he suggests that the envoys charged with bringing these proposals should carry gifts to Aeneas (ll. 302-335)

"Latins, I could have wished we had decided about this most important matter before (now), and it would have been better not to have convened a council at a time such as this, when the enemy is besieging our walls. Citizens, we are waging an ill-omened war with a race of divine origin, and with men (who are) unconquered, whom no battles can weary and (who) cannot relinquish the sword (even when they are) beaten. If you have any hope of winning an alliance with Aetolian arms, set (it) aside. Each one (of us has) his own hopes, but you can see how slender they (are). How all other (aspects) of our cause lie shattered in ruins, they are all before your eyes and within your grasp. I do not accuse anyone: what the greatest courage could achieve, has been done; we have fought with the utmost strength of the realm. So now , I shall explain what is the judgment of my wavering mind, and I shall outline (it) in  a few (words) - (so) pay attention! I have in my possession an ancient (piece of) land, bordering on the Tuscan river (i.e. the Tiber), (stretching) westward as far as the Sicanian borders; Auruncans and Rutulians sow (the seed) and work the stubborn hills with the ploughshare, and on the roughest of them they graze (animals). Let this whole region and its pine-clad zone of high mountains accrue to our friendship with the Teucrians, and let us spell out the just terms of a treaty and call (them) partners in our kingdom: let them settle (there), if such (is) their desire, and build a city. But, if they are of a mind to lay hold of other territories and another nation, and can leave our soil, let us construct twenty ships of Italian oak; or, if they can fill more, all the timber lies close to the water; let them prescribe both the number and the type of their ships themselves, (and) let us deliver the bronze, the labour, (and) the  shipyards. Furthermore, to bear the news and seal the treaty, I would have a hundred envoys, Latins from the foremost families, go forth, holding branches of peace in their hands, (and) bearing gifts, both talents of gold and ivory, and a throne and a robe (as) symbols of our sovereignty. (Now) consult together and repair our tired fortunes."

7) DRANCES ATTACKS TURNUS VERBALLY (LL. 336-375).

(Drances delivers a violent invective against Turnus, declaring his pretensions to be the cause of all their difficulties, bidding him either to abandon them or support them in single-combat, and urging Latinus to offer his daughter in marriage to Aeneas.)

Then, Drances, whom the glory of Turnus tormented with the stings of secret envy, lavish with his money, rather good with his tongue, but his hand (was) frozen in battle, being no mean author of advice (and) powerful in faction - his mother's nobility granted him his proud lineage, but from his father he drew a doubtful (status) -, rises, as hostile (to Turnus) as before, and heaps up and stokes the anger (against him) with these words: "O gracious king, you are discussing a matter not unclear to anyone and not in need of our voice: everyone acknowledges that they know what the people's prosperity requires, but they hesitate to say (it). Let (that man), on account of whose ill-starred leadership and perverse ways - yes, I shall speak, though he may threaten me with violence and death - we see that so many of our leaders' (shining) lights have fallen and that our whole city has sunk in mourning, while, trusting in flight, he assails the Trojan camp and frightens heaven with his weapons, (let) him grant freedom of speech and abate his puffed-up pride. May you add one more to those many gifts, which you order to be sent or promised to the Dardanians, one (more), most excellent king, and let no man's violence intimidate you from giving your daughter, (as) a father (may do), to a distinguished son-in-law in a worthy marriage, and may you associate this peace with a lasting contract. But if such terror takes hold of our minds and hearts, let us entreat (the prince) himself (i.e. Turnus) and let us beg a favour from him: let him yield, (and) give back to his king and country their proper rights. O (you who are) the source and cause of these woes to Latium, why do you so often hurl your (fellow-)citizens into such obvious dangers? (There is) no safety (for us) in war; we are all demanding peace from you, Turnus, together with the only inviolable pledge of peace. I, first (of all), whom you suppose to be hostile to you (and I do not contest that I am), see, I come (as) your suppliant. Pity your (people), set aside your pride, and, beaten (as you are), give way. Routed, we have seen enough of death, and have left our broad fields desolate. But if your reputation moves (you), if you harbour such strength (of feeling) in your heart, and, if a palace (as) your dowry is so dear (to you), be bold and bear your breast with confidence to meet your foe. Of course, we, (whose) lives (are) worthless, can be strewn over the fields, an unburied and unlamented mob, (can't we)? (But) you, too, if you (have) any strength, if you possess any of your father's martial spirit, look face-to-face at him who challenges (you) ...."

 8) TURNUS REPLIES (LL. 376-444).

a) Turnus replies furiously to Drances, whose cowardice he contrasts with his own valour (ll. 376-409).

At these remarks, Turnus' violent (wrath) blazed forth; he gives a groan, and, from the bottom of his heart, gives vent to these words: "Drances, it's true that you always (have) a large amount to say whenever war calls for men, and, when the council is called, you are the first to appear. But there is no need to fill the council-house with words, which fly so splendidly from your (lips so long as you are) safe, while the rampart on the walls holds back the enemy, and the trenches are not (yet) overflowing with blood. So, thunder on in your eloquence, [as you (are) accustomed (to do)], Drances, and accuse me of cowardice, when your right (hand) has produced so many mounds of dead Teucrians, and you adorn the fields everywhere with trophies. You are free to try out what lively courage can (do), and we certainly do not need to look very far for enemies: they are surrounding our walls on every side. Are we going against our enemies? Why do you hesitate? Will your warlike spirit always remain in your windy words and those run-away feet of yours? I, beaten, (you say)? (You), foulest (of villains), shall anyone who takes the trouble to look at the Tiber flowing, swollen with Trojan blood, and all Evander's house and stock (i.e. Pallas) laid prostrate, and all his Arcadians stripped of their arms, rightly claim that (I am) beaten? Not so did Bitias and the giant Pandarus experience me, nor (did) the thousand (men) whom I, as victor, sent down to Tartarus (i.e. Hell), shut in, though I was, within their walls and enclosed by enemy ramparts. 'There is no safety in war,' (you say)? Say such (things), (you) madman, about the Dardanian's life and your own possessions. Go on then, do not cease to disturb everything with your great alarms, and extol the strengths of a twice conquered race (i.e. by Hercules and then by the Greeks), (while) on the other hand you decry the arms of Latinus. Now even the chiefs of the Myrmidons, now even the son of Tydeus (i.e. Diomedes) and Larisaean Achilles, shudder at the arms of the Phrygians, and the River Aufidus flows upstream away from the Adriatic waves. Or (what about) when he pretends that he is afraid to face my taunts - the act of a scoundrel - and he aggravates the charge (against me) with (false) fear. Never will you lose a soul such as yours through this right (arm); so stop worrying: let it stay with you and remain within that (craven) breast of yours.

b) Then, turning to Latinus, Turnus pleads that a reverse in a single battle may well be retrieved, and that they have many allies, who may yet do much to help them; he adds, however, that he is quite prepared to meet Aeneas in single combat (ll. 410-444).

"Now, father, I return to you and your weighty proposals. If you place no further hope in our arms, if we are so forsaken, and, when our army has suffered a defeat on (but) one occasion, we are utterly destroyed, and our fortune has no power to retrace its steps, let us pray for peace, and stretch forth our helpless hands. And yet, if only some of our wonted valour were present! The man (who) to me (is) both happy in his labours and noble in his spirit (is he) who, lest he should see any such (thing) as this, has fallen in death and has bitten the dust with his mouth once (and for all). But if we still have the means and a manhood still intact, and the cities and peoples of Italy continue in our support, and if glory has come to the Trojans too at the cost of much bloodshed - they (too) have their deaths and a similar storm (has swept) through all (their ranks) - why do we lose (heart) so shamefully at the (very) first threshold? Why does trembling seize our limbs before the trumpet (sounds)? Time, and the shifting toil of changing years, has altered many (things) for the better; Fortune, revisiting many (a man) in alternate forms, has mocked (him) and (then) set (him) on solid (ground) again. The Aetolian (i.e. Diomedes) and Arpi will not be of any help to us: but Messapus and lucky Tolumnius and (all) those leaders, whom so many peoples have sent, will be (of help), and no small glory will attend (those) chosen by Latium and the Laurentine fields. We, also, have Camilla from the glorious nation of the Volscians, leading her troop of horsemen and her squadrons blooming with bronze. But if the Teucrians call me only to combat, and that is acceptable (to you), and I am obstructing the common good so much, Victory has not shunned these hands of mine with such hatred, that I should refuse to face anything for a hope so great. I shall go against (him) with courage, even though he should excel mighty Achilles, and wear armour matching (his), wrought by the hands of Vulcan. I, Turnus, not inferior in valour to any of my ancestors, have dedicated this life (of mine) to (all of) you, and to my father-in-law Latinus. 'Aeneas challenges (me) alone,' you say? I, too, pray that he challenges (me); and that, if this (crisis) involves the wrath of the gods, (it is) not Drances rather (than I who) appeases (them) with his death, or that, if there is (an opportunity here for displaying) valour and (winning) glory, (it is not) he (rather than I who) rises (to it)."

9. THE TROJANS ATTACK (LL. 445-531).

a) An alarm is given that Aeneas is marching on the city. Turnus breaks up the assembly and gives orders for defence and attack (ll. 445-467)

Arguing thus, they were discussing among themselves those matters (which were) in doubt: (meanwhile) Aeneas was moving his camp and his battle-line. Behold, a messenger runs through the royal palace amid a wild uproar, and fills the city with great alarms: (he cries out) that the Teucrians and the Tyrrhenian war-band, drawn up in battle array, are sweeping down over the whole plain. Immediately, the minds of the people (are) confused, and their hearts shaken, and their passions (are) aroused by these far from gentle goads. Shaking their fists, they call for their arms, (and) the young men shout for their weapons, (but) their fathers weep in sadness and murmur (doubtfully). Then, a loud noise, with various (voices of) dissent, rises to the heavens, just as when flocks of birds chance to have settled in some tall grove, or swans give their hoarse sounds among noisy pools by Padusa's fish-filled river. "O yes, my (fellow-)citizens," cries Turnus, seizing his moment, "convene your council and sit there, praising peace: with their weapons, they are invading our kingdom." Saying no more, he sprang up, and strode forth from the lofty palace. "Volusus, bid the companies of Volscians arm themselves," he cries, "and lead out the Rutulians. Messapus and Coras, with your brother (i.e. Catillus), deploy the cavalry over the wide plain. Let some guard the entrance to the city and man the towers; let the rest attack with me (by a route) which I shall direct."

b) Latinus retires in despair. Queen Amata and Lavinia go with a train of matrons to the temple of Pallas, and pray for the defeat and death of Aeneas (ll. 468-485). 

At once, there is a rush to the walls from all over the city. Father Latinus, himself, abandons the council and his momentous designs, and, dismayed by the sadness of the hour, he postpones (it), and he reproaches himself many times because he has not welcomed Dardanian Aeneas of his own accord, and admitted him to the city (as) his son-in-law. Some dig (trenches) in front of the gates, or carry up stones and stakes (on to the defences). The harsh (sound of) the trumpet gives the bloody signal for war. Then, women and boys in a motley circle fringed the walls; the ultimate test summons (them) all. Moreover, the queen, with a large crowd of women, rides up to the temple and the great citadel of Pallas, bearing gifts, and beside (her as) a companion (is) the maiden Lavinia, the source of so much trouble, with her beautiful eyes downcast. The women go in, and fumigate the temple with incense, and they pour out their sorrowful prayers from the high threshold: "(O) Tritonian Maid, mighty in arms, who presides over war, shatter with your hand the spear of the Phrygian pirate and lay him prostrate on the ground and throw (him) down beneath your own high gates."

c) Turnus arms himself and hastens to the battle-field (ll. 486-497).

With feverish zeal, Turnus arms himself for battle. And now indeed, having donned his glowing breastplate, he was bristling in his bronze scales, and had sheathed the calves (of his legs) in gold, (though) his temples (were) still bare, and he had buckled his sword to his side; he shone with gold as he ran down from the heights of the citadel, and he exults in his courage, and in his hopes he already anticipates the foe; (it is) just like when a horse, breaking his tether, has fled his stalls, (and,) free at last and master of the open plains, he either heads for the pastures and the herds of mares, or, accustomed to being bathed in water in a familiar river, he dashes off, and, with his head raised high, he neighs in delight, and his mane frolics over his neck and shoulders.

d) Turnus is met by Camilla, who offers to go and meet the Trojans while he protects the city. He suggests that she should meet the Trojan cavalry, while he occupies a mountain pass, along which the Trojan infantry are coming (ll. 498-521). 

Camilla sped to meet him, accompanied by her Volscian troops, and the queen leapt down from her horse near by the very gates, and her whole company, following her example, got off their horses and slid down to the ground; then she speaks the following (words): "Turnus, if the brave rightly have some confidence in themselves, I venture and promise to meet the cavalry of Aeneas' army, and to go alone to meet with the Tyrrhenian horsemen. Let me try the war's first perils with my hand, (while) you stay on foot by the walls and guard the ramparts." To these (words) Turnus, fixing his eyes on the awe-inspiring maiden, (replies): "O maiden, glory of Italy, what thanks should I prepare to utter or to repay (in deeds)? But now, since your spirit surpasses all (bounds), share this toil with me. As rumour reports, and (as) scouts (who have been) sent out (provide) confirmation, that evil (man), Aeneas, has sent ahead his lightly-armed cavalry in order to scour the plains; he, himself, climbing the ridge, is advancing rapidly through the desolate heights of the mountain towards the city. I am preparing an ambush on an over-arched pathway through the woods, so as to block both entrances to the pass with an armed force. When battle has been joined, you must await the Tyrrhenian cavalry (charge); brave Messapus will be with you, and also the Latin squadrons and Tiburtus' contingent, (but) you, too, must take charge as leader." So he speaks, and exhorts Messapus and the allied leaders to battle with similar words, and (then) proceeds against the foe.

e) Turnus prepares to ambush Aeneas' forces (ll. 522-531).

There is a valley with a winding bend, suitable for the delusions and tricks of war, which a dark side (wall) of dense foliage hems in on both sides, (and) to which a tiny path leads, and a narrow pass and an awkward approach brings (you). Above it, among the watch-towers on the high mountain tops, lies a hidden plateau and a safe refuge, whether you are minded to charge from the right (side) or the left, or to take a stand on the ridge and roll down huge boulders. Hither the warrior hastens by a well-known network of roads, and he took up his position and occupied the treacherous woods.

10) DIANA' S CONCERN FOR CAMILLA (LL. 532-596).

a) Diana tells Opis, one of her nymphs, the story of Camilla, who had been brought up by her father, the exiled tyrant of Privernum (ll. 532-556).

Meanwhile, in heaven's halls, Latona's daughter (i.e. Diana) was addressing swift Opis, one of her maiden companions and (a member of) of her sacred band, and spoke these words of sorrow with her lips: "O, our virgin Camilla, dear to me before (all) others, is marching to that cruel war, and is vainly girding on our arms. For this (is) no new love (that) has comes upon Diana, nor has it stirred my heart with a sudden sweetness. When Metabus, driven from his throne on account of the hatred (aroused) by his tyrannical (use of) power, was leaving the ancient city of Privernum, as he fled right through the midst of the conflicts of war, he took (with him) his infant (child as) his companion in exile, and, from her mother's name, Casmilla, (which he) changed slightly, he called (her) Camilla. Carrying (her) before him on his breast, he, himself, made for a long ridge of lonely forests: fierce weapons assailed (him) on every side, and the Volscians, their troops having surrounded (him), were hovering about. Behold, in the midst of their flight, the (River) Amasenus overflowed and foamed over the top of its banks; so great a downpour had burst from the clouds. He, preparing to swim across, is held back by love of his child, and he fears for his beloved burden. Pondering all (options) within himself, this idea suddenly settled (on him). The giant spear, solid with knots and (made) of seasoned oak, which the warrior chanced to be carrying in his stout hand, to this he fastens his daughter, and he wraps (her) in the bark of a forest cork-tree, and ties (her) handily (i.e. so that it would be possible to throw her) to the centre of the spear-shaft: (then,) poising it in his mighty right (hand), he cries out thus to the heavens:

b) Having been saved her by her father throwing her across the River Amasenus attached to a spear-shaft, Camilla was brought up by him in the woods, and becomes a virgin huntress attached to weapons of war. Diana bids Opis keep an eye on her and avenge her if she should fall (ll. 557-596).

'Gracious virgin, daughter of Latona, who dwells in the woods, I, her very own father, dedicate this (child) as your servant; holding her first weapon, she flees the foe through the air (as) your suppliant. Accept, goddess, (as) your own, I implore (you), this (child), who is now committed to the hazards of the breezes.' He spoke, and, drawing back his arm, he launches the spinning spear-shaft: the waters roared, (as) poor Camilla flees on the whistling spear over the top of that rushing river. But Metabus, with a great crowd (of his enemies) now pressing (him) closely, gives himself to the stream, and plucks victoriously from the grassy turf the spear and the (little) maid, (as) his offering to Trivia (i.e. Diana). No city would accept him within their houses or their walls - nor would he, in his wild state, have yielded himself (to them); and he passed his time among shepherds on lonely mountains. Here, among the thickets and the rugged lairs (of wild beasts), he nourished his daughter at the udders of a mare of the herd, and on the milk of wild creatures, squeezing their teats between her tender lips. As soon as the infant had taken the first steps on her feet, he placed a pointed lance in her hands, and hung a quiver and a bow from her small shoulder. In place of a golden headband and the covering of a long robe, the pelts of a tiger hang from her head across her back. Even at that time, she hurled her child's spear with a tender hand, and whirled a sling around her head with a well-twisted thong, and brought down a Strymonian crane and a white swan (with it). Many a mother throughout the towns of Tyrrhenia longed for her (as) a daughter-in-law in vain. Content with Diana alone, she cherishes, untouched, a lifelong love of her weapons and of her virginity. I could have wished that she had not been caught up in warfare such as this, trying to challenge the Teucrians: and that she were still my darling and one of my companions. But, come now, since she is driven by a merciless fate, slip down, nymph, from the sky, and take a look at the Latin territories, where sad battle is being joined under an unlucky omen. Take these (i.e. her bow and arrows), and draw from this quiver an avenging arrow: with this, may anyone, Trojan or Italian, who violates her body with a wound, pay an equal penalty in his blood. Afterwards, I shall carry the body and the unspoiled arms of the hapless (maid) to her tomb in a hollow mist, and I shall bury (her) in her native land." She spoke, and the other (i.e. Opis) slipped down through the light breezes of the sky, and she made a whirring sound, her form surrounded by a dark whirlwind.

11) THE ARMIES ENGAGE (LL. 597-647).

a) The Rutulian and Trojan cavalry meet in battle (ll. 597-617).

But, meanwhile, the Trojan war-band and the Etruscan chieftains and all their array of cavalry, marshalled by number into squadrons, draw near to the walls. The war-horse neighs, as it prances over the whole plain, and it fights against its tight reins, wheeling this way and that; then, steely with spears, the field bristles far and wide, and the plains shine with weapons raised aloft. On the other side too, Messapus and the speedy Latins, and Coras with his brother, and the virgin Camilla's (cavalry) wing appear on the plain in opposition, and, drawing their right (arms) far back, they thrust their spears forward and shake their javelins; the movements of men and the neighing of horses grow hotter. And now, each (group of cavalry) had halted in its advance, within a spear's throw (of the other): (then,) with a sudden shout, they burst forth and spur on their maddened horses; spears (as) thick as snow-flakes pour down at once from all sides, and the sky is covered in darkness. Immediately, Tyrrhenus and brave Aconteus, striving with levelled spears, charge (each other), and, (are) the first (to) fall upon (each other) with a mighty crash, and the breast-bones of their galloping horses (are) fractured and break on the breast-bones (of the other): Aconteus, dispatched like a thunderbolt or a weight shot from a siege-engine, falls headlong some distance away (from his horse), and disperses his life among the breezes.

b) After various advances and retreats, they engage in earnest (ll. 618-647).

At once, the ranks waver, and the routed Latins throw their shields over their shoulders, and turn their horses towards the walls. The Trojans pursue (the Latins); their chieftain Asilas leads their squadrons against (them). And now they were approaching the gates, and the Latins again raise a shout, and turn their (horses') supple necks around again: they (i.e. the Trojans) flee and retreat with the reins completely slackened. As when the ocean, advancing with alternate flood, now rushes towards land, dashing over the rocks, with foaming wave, and drenching the furthest shore with its swell, now it flees rapidly backwards, sucking back again pebbles sent spinning by its tide its tide, and leaving dry sand as its shallows ebb: twice the Tuscans drove the routed Rutulians to the walls, twice, having been repulsed, they look back, covering their backs with their armour. But, when they met in a third encounter, their lines locked together along their whole (length), and man chose man: then, indeed, (there are) the groans of the dying and arms and bodies, deep in blood, and half-dead horses roll around, intermingled with the carnage of men, (as) the battle swells fiercely. Orsilochus hurled a lance at Remulus' horse, since he shrank from approaching the (man) himself, and the steel(-point) remained behind its ear. The rearing charger rages at this blow, and, unable to bear the wound, raises its chest and flings its fore-legs on high; knocked off (his horse), the man (i.e. Remulus) rolls on the ground. Catillus strikes down Iollas, and Herminius, mighty in courage (and) mighty in body and shoulders, who (has) tawny hair on his bare head and bare shoulders, as he has no fear of wounds; so great (is the front) he exposes to the weapons (of the enemy). The spear quivers as it is driven through his broad shoulders, and, having been thrust through (him), doubles the man up with pain. Dark blood pours everywhere; clashing with swords, they dealt destruction, and seek a glorious death through their wounds.

12) CAMILLA IN ACTION (LL. 648-724).

a) Camilla's fighting practices; her companions (ll. 648-663).

But, in the midst of the slaughter, Camilla, wearing her quiver, exults, (like) an Amazon, (with) one breast bared for battle; and now she hurls volleys of vibrating javelins from her hand, now she tirelessly snatches up a battle-axe in her hand; a golden bow, Diana's weapon too, twangs from her shoulder. And even if she has withdrawn, when pressed from behind, she reverses her bow and aims arrows in her flight. And around (her are) her chosen  companions, the maiden Larina, Tulla, and Tarpeia, brandishing her axe, daughters of Italy, whom godlike Camilla, herself, chose (as) an ornament to her, trusty servants both in peace and in war: such (are) the Amazons of Thrace, when they tread the streams of Thermodon (i.e. the river of Pontus, the home of the Amazons) and fight with painted armour, whether around Hippolyte, or, when Penthesilea, the daughter of Mars, returns in her chariot, and the ranks of women, with their crescent-shaped shields, exult in a loud whooping noise.

b) The actions of Camilla: she kills many of the Trojans and their allies by arrow or spear (ll.664-689).

Whom do you strike down first with your spear, whom last, (you) fierce maiden? Or how many bodies do you stretch dying on the ground? The first (is) Eunaeus, fathered by Clytius, whose exposed breast, as he faces up (to her), she transfixes with a (shaft of) pine-wood: he falls, spewing up streams of blood, and bites the gory dust and, as he dies, he writhes upon his wound. Then, (she strikes down) Liris, and Pagasus as well, the first of whom, while he gathers up the reins as he rolls off his injured horse, (and) the other, while he comes up and stretches out an unharmed hand to (assist) the falling (man), and they fall headlong together. To these she adds Amastrus, the son of Hippotas, and, looming over (them) from afar, she pursues Tereus and Harpalycus, Demophoon and Chromis with her spear. And, as many as the darts that the maiden sent spinning from her hand, so many Phrygian warriors fell. The huntsman Ornytus rides afar off in novel armour and on an Iapygian (i.e. Apulian) horse, and a hide stripped from a bullock covers his broad shoulders when fighting, (while) the huge cleft of a wolf's mouth and its jaws with white teeth have protected his head, and a rustic hunting spear is in his hands; he, himself, moves along in the centre of the troops, and he towers above (them) by a full head. She caught up with him - for no (great) effort (was required) when the column had been routed - and stabbed (him), and says these (words) over (him) with hate in her heart: "Did you think you were chasing wild beasts in the forests, Tyrrhenian? The day is come which will refute your words with a woman's weapons. But you will carry no mean fame to your fathers' shades for this (reason), that you fell to Camilla's spear."

c) Camilla kills two further Trojan warriors, the second one by the use of her battle-axe (ll. 690-698). 

Next, (she slays) Orsilochus and Butes, two of the Teucrians with the mightiest bodies, but she pierced Butes with her lance in the back, between his breastplate and helmet, where the neck of the rider is visible, and (while) his shield hangs from his left arm; fleeing Orsilochus, and being chased in a wide circle, she outmanoeuvres (him by) wheeling inwards, and (now) pursues her pursuer; then, rising higher (in the saddle), she redoubles (the blows of) her powerful axe through his armour and bones, while the man begs and many times beseeches (her) for mercy; the wounding bespatters his face with warm brains.

d) Then, one of her enemies induces her to dismount, and attempts to escape on horseback; but she overtakes and kills him (ll. 699-724).

There falls in her (way), and, terrified at the sudden sight (of her), he came to a standstill, the warrior son of Aunus, a dweller in the Appennines, not the least of the Ligurians, while fate allowed (him) to deceive. When he sees that he cannot now evade combat by any fleetness, nor divert the queen from her pursuit, he begins to devise a stratagem with craft and guile, and speaks as follows: "What is so wonderful (about you), woman, if you rely on a strong horse? Forget flight, and trust yourself (to meet) with me hand-to-hand on equal ground, and gird (yourself) to fight on foot. You will soon know to whom windy boasting brings deception." He spoke, but she, raging and burning with bitter resentment, hands over her horse to a comrade, and faces (him) with matching weapons, on foot (and) fearless, with a naked sword and a plain (i.e. unemblazoned) shield. But the young man, thinking that he has won through guile, himself darts away - without delay - and, tugging at the reins, he takes to flight, and goads his charger to the gallop with an iron spur. "Foolish Ligurian, vainly puffed up by your boastful spirits, you have tried your slippery native tricks in vain, and cunning will not take you home to deceitful Aunus unscathed!" Thus cries the maiden, and, on fire on her nimble feet, she outstrips his horse in running, and, seizing the reins, she meets (him) face-to-face and takes vengeance from his hated blood: as easily as a falcon, a sacred bird (i.e. sacred to Apollo, god of augury) on a high rock, overtakes a dove, aloft in a cloud on its wings, and, holding (it) in its grasp, disembowels (it) with its hooked talons; then, blood and torn feathers float down from the sky.

13) TARCHON TAKES ACTION; AND ARRUNS PURSUES CAMILLA (LL. 725-767).

a) Jupiter prompts Tarchon to vigorous action. Having upbraided his troops, he rides against one of the enemy, and, seizing him in his arms, carries him off on his horse (ll. 725-759).

But the Father of men and gods sits enthroned on high Olympus, watching these (things) with not inattentive eyes: the Father stirs the Tyrrhenian Tarchon to fierce battle, and incites (him) to rage with no gentle spurs. So, Tarchon rides on his horse amid the slaughter and the retreating ranks, and goads his cavalry squadrons with various shouts, calling each (man) by name, and he rallies the routed into battle. "What fear, what sheer cowardice has come upon your hearts, (O you who are) never likely to feel shame, O (you) ever sluggish Tyrrhenians? Does a woman drive (you) into disarray, and put these ranks (of yours) to flight? For what (reason do you have) a sword, and why do we bear these useless spears in our hands? But you are not sluggish (when it comes) to love-making and nocturnal forays, nor when the curved pipe proclaims the Bacchic dances. Wait for the feasts and the cups on the loaded tables - this (is) your passion, this (is) your love  - while the favouring seer reports the sacred omens and the rich sacrifice calls (you) into the deep groves!" Thus speaking, (and) ready to die himself too, he spurs his horse into the midst (of the fray) and rushes straight at Venulus, and, having dragged (him) from his horse, he clasps his enemy to his chest with his right (arm) and, stirring himself to a mighty effort, he carries (him) off. A roar rises to the sky, and all the Latins turned their eyes (in that direction). Tarchon flies over the plain (like) lightning, carrying weapons and man; then, he breaks off the the iron (point) from the tip of his spear and searches for an exposed place where he may deal a deadly wound; the other, struggling against him, keeps (his enemy's) hand away from his throat, and meets force with force. And, as when a tawny eagle, soaring on high, carries a snake it has caught, and it has entwined its feet (around it) and clung (to it) with its claws, but the snake twists its sinuous coils, and bristles with its scales protruding, and it hisses with its mouth as it rises up, (but,) nonetheless, (the eagle) assails its struggling (prey) with its hooked beak, (and) beats the air with its wings at the same time: in just this way does Tarchon joyfully carry his prey from the Tiber's ranks. Following their leader's example and achievement, the Maeonidae (i.e. the Etruscans) attack.

b) Arruns plans to follow Camilla (ll. 759-767).

Then, Arruns, (a man) owed to fate, first encircles swift Camilla with his javelin and with great cunning, and and tries what would be the easiest of opportunities. Wherever the maiden rode in her fury through the midst of the ranks, there Arruns steals up and silently scans her steps; where she returns victorious and retires from the enemy, there the youth secretly turns his swift reins. (He tries) this approach, and now that approach, and roams everywhere over the whole circuit, and he persistently brandishes his unerring spear.

14) THE DEATH OF CAMILLA (LL. 768-835).

a) Arruns awaits his opportunity to throw a spear at Camilla, and prays to Apollo for success (ll. 768-793).

Chloreus, sacred to (Mount) Cybelus, and once a priest, happened to be shining from afar in his splendid Phrygian armour, and spurred his foam-flecked steed, which a horse-cloth, with bronze scales for its plumes (and) fastened with golden (buckles), protected. He, himself, shining in an exotic dark-red and purple hue, fired Gortynian (i.e. Cretan) arrows from a Lycian bow; the bow on his shoulders was golden, and golden (was) the seer's helmet; now, he had compressed his saffron cloak and its rustling linen folds into a knot by a (brooch) of yellow (gold), and had embroidered his tunic and barbarous leg coverings (i.e. trousers) with golden (thread). In order to hang up his Trojan arms in a temple or to flaunt herself in captured gold, the virgin huntress was blindly pursuing him alone out of all the press of battle, and was recklessly raging through all the ranks with a woman's desire for booty and spoils, when Arruns, finally seizing the moment, rouses his spear from (his place of) ambush, and prays thus to the gods above in a (loud) voice: "Apollo, highest of gods, guardian of holy Soracte (i.e. a mountain in Etruria, on the top of which was a temple of Apollo), whose chief worshippers we are, (and) in whose (honour) a pine-wood blaze is fed by a heap (of wood), (while) we, (as) your votaries trusting in our faith even through the midst of the fire, set down our footsteps firmly on the embers, grant, (O) Father Almighty, that this disgrace (i.e. the success of Camilla) be effaced by our arms. I seek no plunder nor trophy of the maid's defeat, nor any spoils - other deeds will bring me fame: yet, let this dreadful scourge fall stricken beneath my blow, (and) I shall return to the cities of my native-land inglorious."

b) Apollo grants Arruns' prayer (ll. 794-798).

Phoebus heard (him), and in his decision granted that a part of his prayer should be successful, (but) he dispersed the (other) part among the fleeting breezes: he assents to the prayer that he might surprise and overthrow Camilla in sudden death; (but) he did not grant that his lofty native-land should see (him) returned, and the gales turned over his words to the Southerly Winds.

c) The spear pierces Camilla, who sinks and dies; the Trojans are inspired and redouble their efforts (ll. 799-835).

So, as the spear gave a (whistling) sound, as it was dispatched from his hand through the air, all the Volscians turned their attention and raised their eyes intently towards the queen. (She,) herself, (was) aware of nothing, neither winds, nor sounds, nor the weapon coming from the sky, until the spear pierced (her) and lodged beneath her naked breast, and, driven deep, drank of her virgin's blood. Her comrades rush (to her) anxiously, and catch their falling mistress. Arruns, more alarmed than (all) the rest, flees in fear mixed with joy, and he does not now dare to trust his spear further, nor face the virgin's weapons. And, just as that wolf that has killed a shepherd or a large bullock immediately hides itself out of the way among the high mountains, before the hostile spears pursue (it), (and,) conscious of its audacious deed, and drooping its tail, he tucks (it) quivering beneath its belly, and makes for the woods: just so did Arruns, in turmoil, withdraw himself from sight, and, happy to escape, he immersed himself in the midst of the armed throng. Dying, she tugs at the weapon with her hand, but the iron point is fixed deep in the wound between her bones near the ribs: she sinks back, bloodless, her eyes chill with death, (and) her once radiant colour has left her face. Then, (while) she breathes her last, she addresses thus Acca, one of her peers, (and) faithful to Camilla before (all) the others, who (was) the only (one) with whom she shared her cares; and so she utters these (words): "Till now, sister Acca, I have been strong: (but) now this bitter wound overcomes me, and everything around (me) grows dark with shadows. Hurry away, and bear these latest instructions of mine to Turnus: let him take my place in the battle, and keep the Trojans away from the city. And now, farewell!" At the same time as she said these (words), she was letting go of the reins, (and,) despite all her efforts, slipping to the ground. Then, (growing) cold, she gradually freed herself completely from her body, and laid down her nerveless neck and her head, (which had been) seized by death, (and) relinquishes her weapons, and, with a groan, her life flees resentfully to the shades below. Then, indeed, an enormous uproar rises up and strikes the golden stars: with Camilla having fallen, the battle intensifies; all the host of Teucrians, the Tyrrhenian chieftains, and Evander's and the Arcadian squadrons rush forward together in a mass.

15) OPIS TAKES REVENGE (LL. 836-915).

a) Opis mourns Camilla, and takes aim at Arruns, who falls in the moment of his triumph and dies uncared for (ll. 836-867).


Meanwhile, Trivia's sentinel, Opis, has long been seated high among the mountain peaks, and watches the fighting fearlessly. And, when she saw in the distance, in the midst of the clamour of raging warriors, that Camilla (had been) punished by  a sad death, she sighed, and uttered these words from the depths of her heart: "Alas! Too (cruel), too cruel (is) the penalty you have paid, maiden, (for) trying to challenge the Teucrians in war! It has not helped that, living alone in the woods, you worshipped Diana, or that you bore our arrows on your shoulder. Yet, your queen has not left you without honour, even in the extremity of death, neither will your death be without renown among the nations, nor will you suffer the report of being unavenged. For whoever violated your body with that wound shall pay the price of a deserved death." The vast tomb of Decennus, an ancient Laurentine king, (built) of a mound of earth and covered with shadowy holm-oak, stood beneath a high mountain; here the goddess, most beautiful in her swift motion, first appears, and espies Arruns from this lofty barrow. When she saw (him) shining in his armour and swelling with pride, she cries out, "Why are you going so far away? Turn your steps in this direction, come here, you who are due to die, to receive a reward (which is) worthy of Camilla. Shall you, too, die by Diana's darts? She spoke, and (then) the Thracian (nymph) plucked a winged arrow from her gold-plated quiver and stretched her bow with hostile intent, and drew (it) far back until its curved ends met each other, and now with level hands she touched the steel tip with her left, (and) her breast with her right and with the bow-string. Immediately, Arruns heard the hissing dart and the whirring air at the same time, and the steel stuck fast in his body. Oblivious, his comrades leave him, breathing his last and groaning in his extremity in the unknown dust of the plain; Opis is carried on her wings back to heavenly Olympus.

b) There is a general rout of the Rutulians, who fly to the town. The gates are closed, and many perish miserably outside. Even the women, in desperation, attempt to defend the wall (ll.868-895).

With their mistress having been lost, Camilla's light squadron is the first to flee; the Rutulians flee in confusion; brave Atinas flees, and scattered chieftains and abandoned troops seek safety, and, wheeling their horses around, they direct (them) horses towards the walls. No one can check with their weapons, or stand against, the death-dealing Teucrians, who are hard on their heels, but they sling their unstrung bows on their drooping shoulders, and the hooves of their horses shake the crumbling plain in their gallop. Murky dust in a black cloud rolls towards the walls, and from the watch-towers, mothers, beating their breasts, raise a womanish cry to the stars of heaven. Blending their ranks, the enemy throng presses hard upon those, who first broke through the open gates at full speed, nor do they escape a wretched death, but even in the gateway, on their native city-walls, and within the shelter of their homes, (they are) stabbed and gasp away their lives. Some close the gates: and they do not dare to open a way for their comrades, not to receive (them) within the walls, despite their entreaties, and a most pitiful slaughter arises of (those) defending the entrance with their arms and of (those) rushing right on to the weapons. Some, shut out before the eyes and faces of their weeping parents, with the rout driving (them), roll headlong into the ditches; others, blindly charging with loosened reins, batter at the gates and the unyielding barrier of the doors. The mothers, themselves, in keenest rivalry, when they saw Camilla, throw weapons from the walls with trembling hands, and, in their haste, do the work of steel with poles of tough oak and stakes hardened by fire, and burn (to be) the first to die in defence of the walls.

c) Acca takes the news of Camilla's death to Turnus, who breaks up his ambush and hastens to the city. Immediately afterwards Aeneas comes up, passes the defile safely, and marches towards the city himself. Night, however, prevents an engagement (ll. 896-915). 

Meanwhile, in the forests the most woeful message comes with all its force to (the ears of) Turnus, and Acca gives the warrior the news of the terrible disaster: that the Volscian ranks (have been) destroyed, that Camilla has fallen, that the enemy are advancing fiercely and have swept all before (them) in triumphant warfare, and that panic has already reached the city. In wild frenzy, he (i.e. Turnus) abandons the hills which he had been blockading - so Jupiter's stern will demands - (and) leaves the wild woodlands. He had scarcely passed from their sight and reached the plain, when father Aeneas, having entered the (now) unguarded pass, both mounts the ridge and emerges from the dark woods. So, they both march towards the walls, swiftly and in full force, and they are not separated from each other by any long distance; and, at the very same moment, Aeneas viewed from afar the plain smoking with dust, and saw the Laurentine  columns (i.e. the Latins and the Rutulians), and Turnus recognised Aeneas in arms and heard the marching of feet and the snorting of horses. They would have entered the fray at once, and essayed the test of battle, if ruddy Phoebus (i.e. the Sun) had not already bathed his weary steeds in the Iberian flood (i.e. the Atlantic Ocean) and, as the day ebbed, brought back the night. They make camp before the city, and fortify their defences.





APPENDIX: Prosodic and grammatical features contained in Aeneid Book XI.

1) Examples of the retained accusative with a passive verb:

In the examples given below, the relevant accusatives are underlined. These accusatives are either examples of a passive participle being used in the sense of the middle voice in Greek, or an accusative of respect relating to parts of the body:

l. 35.  Iliades crinem ... solutae: the women of Ilium, their hair loosened (lit. having been loosened in respect of their hair) ...

l. 480.  virgo ... oculos deiecta decoros: the maiden with her beautiful eyes cast down (lit. cast down in respect of her beautiful eyes) ...

l. 487.  rutilum thoraca indutus ... horrebat: having donned his glowing breastplate, he bristled ...

l. 507. Turnus ... oculos horrenda in virgine fixus: Turnus, fixing his eyes on the awe-inspiring maiden ...

l. 596.  illa ... nigro circumdata turbine corpus: the other, her form surrounded (lit. surrounded in respect of her form) by a dark whirlwind.

l. 649.  unum exserta latus pugnae ... Camilla: Camilla, with one breast bared (lit. bared in respect of one breast) for battle ...

l. 777. auro pictus acu tunicas et barbara tegmina crurum: he had embroidered his tunic and barbarous leg coverings with gold (thread) ...

l. 877.  percussae pectora matres: mothers beating their breasts (lit. beaten in respect of their breasts) ...

 2.  Spondaic fifth foot with a hiatus.

This occurs only five times in the "Aeneid", always when proper names are involved.

l. 31.  Parrhasio Evandro: to Parrhasian Evander.

3.  Synezesis.

In the following instances a short syllable is compressed or elided into a following long one.


l. 57.  Ei: Oh!

l. 262. Protei: of Proteus.

l. 268.  Idomenei: of Idomeneus.

l. 383.  Proinde: so.

4. Syllable lengthened 'in arsis'.

In the instances below, the underlined short syllable is lengthened as it coincides with the beat or 'ictus' which falls on the first syllable of the foot. In Latin verse, the first part of the foot is called the 'arsis' as it involves the 'raising' of the voice, and the second part the 'thesis', when the voice sinks down again.

l. 69.   languen/tis hya/cinthi: a drooping hyacinth.

l. 111.  ora/tis? Equi/dem: Are you asking .... (I) indeed ...

l. 323.  tantus a/mor, et/: such (is) their desire, and ...

l. 469.  ipse pa/ter et/: father (Latinus) himself ... and ...

APPENDIX: VIRGIL'S WORKS: PUBLICATION DATES ON SABIDIUS' BLOGSPOT


Bucolics (Eclogues):

11 March 2011

Georgics:

Book I: 9 November 2015
Book II: 24 January 2017
Book III: 17 March 2017
Book IV: 11 November 2010

Aeneid:

Book I: 12 May 2010
Book II: 14 February 2011
Book III: 22 January 2015
Book IV: 20 January 2010
Book V: 8 June 2011
Book VI: 16 February 2010
Book VII: 26 April 2017
Book VIII: 20 October 2015
Book IX: 10 August 2010
Book X: 3 August 2017
Book XI: 17 September 2017
Book XII: 23 September 2011.