Aeneid

message to my father, Peleus' son!

tell him my naughty deeds! Be sure and say

how Neoptolemus hath shamed his sires.

Now die!” With this, he trailed before the shrines

the trembling King, whose feet slipped in the stream

of his son's blood. Then Pyrrhus' left hand clutched

the tresses old and gray; a glittering sword

his right hand lifted high, and buried it

far as the hilt in that defenceless heart.

So Priam's story ceased. Such final doom

fell on him, while his dying eyes surveyed

Troy burning, and her altars overthrown,

though once of many an orient land and tribe

the boasted lord. In huge dismemberment

his severed trunk lies tombless on the shore,

the head from shoulder torn, the corpse unknown.

Then first wild horror on my spirit fell

and dazed me utterly. A vision rose

of my own cherished father, as I saw

the King, his aged peer, sore wounded Iying

in mortal agony; a vision too

of lost Creusa at my ravaged hearth,

and young Iulus' peril. Then my eyes

looked round me seeking aid. But all were fled,

war-wearied and undone; some earthward leaped

from battlement or tower; some in despair

yielded their suffering bodies to the flame.

I stood there sole surviving; when, behold,

to Vesta's altar clinging in dumb fear,

hiding and crouching in the hallowed shade,

Tyndarus' daughter!— 't was the burning town

lighted full well my roving steps and eyes.

In fear was she both of some Trojan's rage

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

or her wronged husband's Iong indignant ire.

So hid she at that shrine her hateful brow,

being of Greece and Troy, full well she knew,

the common curse. Then in my bosom rose

a blaze of wrath; methought I should avenge

my dying country, and with horrid deed

pay crime for crime. “Shall she return unscathed

to Sparta, to Mycenae's golden pride,

and have a royal triumph? Shall her eyes

her sire and sons, her hearth and husband see,

while Phrygian captives follow in her train?

is Priam murdered? Have the flames swept o'er

my native Troy? and cloth our Dardan strand

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

O, not thus unavenged! For though there be

no glory if I smite a woman's crime,

nor conqueror's fame for such a victory won,

yet if I blot this monster out, and wring

full punishment from guilt, the time to come

will praise me, and sweet pleasure it will be

to glut my soul with vengeance and appease

the ashes of my kindred.”So I raved,

and to such frenzied purpose gave my soul.

Then with clear vision (never had I seen

her presence so unclouded) I beheld,

in golden beams that pierced the midnight gloom,

my gracious mother, visibly divine,

and with that mien of majesty she wears

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

and from her lips of rose this counsel gave:

“O son, what sorrow stirs thy boundless rage?

what madness this? Or whither vanisheth

thy love of me? Wilt thou not seek to know

where bides Anchises, thy abandoned sire,

now weak with age? or if Creusa lives

and young Ascanius, who are ringed about

with ranks of Grecian foes, and long ere this—

save that my love can shield them and defend—

had fallen on flame or fed some hungry sword?

Not Helen's hated beauty works thee woe;

nor Paris, oft-accused. The cruelty

of gods, of gods unaided, overwhelms

thy country's power, and from its Iofty height

casts Ilium down. Behold, I take away

the barrier-cloud that dims thy mortal eye,

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

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

refuse obedience to her counsel given.

'Mid yonder trembling ruins, where thou see'st

stone torn from stone, with dust and smoke uprolling,

't is Neptune strikes the wall; his trident vast

makes her foundation tremble, and unseats

the city from her throne. Fierce Juno leads

resistless onset at the Scaean gate,

and summons from the ships the league of powers,

wearing her wrathful sword. On yonder height

behold Tritonia in the citadel

clothed with the lightning and her Gorgon-shield!

Unto the Greeks great Jove himself renews

their courage and their power; 't is he thrusts on

the gods themselves against the Trojan arms.

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

I will be always nigh and set thee safe

upon thy father's threshold.” Having said,

she fled upon the viewless night away.

Then loomed o'er Troy the apparition vast