Aeneid

in public eye and open day intend

to compass their weak wall with siege and fire.

I'll prove them we be no Pelasgic band,

no Danaan warriors, such as Hector's arm

ten years withstood. But look! this day hath spent

its better part. In what remains, rejoice

in noble deeds well done; let weary flesh

have rest and food. My warriors, husband well

your strength against to-morrow's hopeful war.”

Meanwhile to block their gates with wakeful guard

is made Messapus' work, and to gird round

their camp with watchfires. Then a chosen band,

twice seven Rutulian chieftains, man the walls

with soldiery; each leads a hundred men

crested with crimson, armed with glittering gold.

Some post to separate sentries, and prepare

alternate vigil; others, couched on grass,

laugh round the wine and lift the brazen bowls.

The camp-fires cheerly burn; the jovial guard

spend the long, sleepless night in sport and game.

The Trojans peering from the lofty walls

survey the foe, and arm for sure defence

of every point exposed. They prove the gates

with fearful care, bind bridge with tower, and bring

good store of javelins. Serestus bold

and Mnestheus to their labors promptly fly,

whom Sire Aeneas bade in time of stress

to have authority and free command

over his warriars. Along the walls

the legions, by the cast of lots, divide

the pain and peril, giving each his due

of alternating vigil and repose.

Nisus kept sentry at the gate: a youth

of eager heart for noble deeds, the son

of Hyrtacus, whom in Aeneas' train

Ida the huntress sent; swift could he speed

the spear or light-winged arrow to its aim.

Beside him was Euryalus, his friend:

of all th' Aeneadae no youth more fair

wore Trojan arms; upon his cheek unshorn

the tender bloom of boyhood lingered still.

Their loving hearts were one, and oft in war

they battled side by side, as in that hour

a common sentry at the gate they shared.

Said Nisus: “Is it gods above that breathe

this fever in my soul, Euryalus?

or is the tyrant passion of each breast

the god it serves? Me now my urgent mind

to battles or some mighty deed impels,

and will not give me rest. Look yonder, where

the Rutuli in dull security

the siege maintain. Yet are their lights but few.

They are asleep or drunk, and in their line

is many a silent space. O, hear my thought,

and what my heart is pondering. To recall

Aeneas is the dearest wish to-night

of all, both high and low. They need true men

to find him and bring tidings. If our chiefs

but grant me leave to do the thing I ask

(Claiming no reward save what honor gives),

methinks I could search out by yonder hill

a path to Pallanteum.” The amazed

Euryalus, flushed warm with eager love

for deeds of glory, instantly replied

to his high-hearted friend: “Dost thou refuse,

my Nisus, to go with me hand in hand

when mighty deeds are done? Could I behold

thee venturing alone on danger? Nay!

Not thus my sire Opheltes, schooled in war,

taught me his true child, 'mid the woes of Troy

and Argive terrors reared; not thus with thee

have I proved craven, since we twain were leal

to great Aeneas, sharing all his doom.

In this breast also is a heart which knows

contempt of life, and deems such deeds, such praise,

well worth a glorious death.” Nisus to him:

“I have not doubted thee, nor e'er could have

one thought disloyal. May almighty Jove,

or whatsoe'er good power my purpose sees,

bring me triumphant to thy arms once more!

But if, as oft in doubtful deeds befalls,

some stroke of chance, or will divine, should turn

to adverse, 't is my fondest prayer that thou

shouldst live the longer of us twain. Thy years

suit better with more life. Oh! let there be

one mourner true to carry to its grave

my corpse, recaptured in the desperate fray,

or ransomed for a price. Or if this boon

should be—'t is Fortune's common way—refused,

then pay the debt of grief and loyal woe

unto my far-off dust, and garlands leave

upon an empty tomb. No grief I give

to any sorrowing mother; one alone,

of many Trojan mothers, had the heart

to follow thee, her child, and would not stay

in great Acestes' land.” His friend replied:

“Thou weavest but a web of empty words

and reasons vain, nor dost thou shake at all

my heart's resolve. Come, let us haste away!”

He answered so, and summoned to the gate