Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil, Sow the seed, and reap the harvest with enduring toil, Storing yearly little dues of wheat, and wine and oil;
Till they perish and they suffer some, 'tis whispereddown in hell
Suffer endless anguish, others in Elysian valleys dwell, Resting weary limbs at last on beds of asphodel.
Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore Than labor in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar; Oh rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more.
N the fall of Troy, Æneas with a company of fellow fugitives sets sail, and after long years and many adventures reaches Italy, his destination, and disembarks on the south bank of the Tiber. Here his followers are still encamped. War has broken out between Æneas and certain of the sur- rounding nations, and now, while he is himself gone to Pallanteum in quest of an ally, his leaderless band has been attacked by Turnus, king of the Rutuli. On guard at the gate of the Trojan fortifications stand the bosom friends Nisus and Euryalus. The time is night.
The Trojans are sometimes spoken of as the Teucrians or Dardans. The son of Æneas is named both Iulus and Ascanius. Latinus is king of the Latins, one of the nations hostile to Eneas.
Nisus, keen warrior, held the gate, the son Of Hyrtacus, whom in Æneas' train
Ida the huntress sent; quick-handed he
1 From the ninth book of the Eneid. The translation is by James Rhoades, and is reprinted through special arrangement with the Oxford University Press.
With spear, and light-winged arrows; beside him Euryalus, than whom no comelier youth
Clave to Æneas, or donned Trojan arms
Whose smooth boy-face showed faint the budding man.`
These had one heart between them: side by side
They wont to rush on battle; and now too
Each with like charge was posted at the gate. #Quoth Nisus: "Is't the gods thus fire our hearts, Or maketh each his wild desire a god, Euryalus? My heart's long since afret
On war to launch me, or some great essay, With stagnant ease ill-satisfied. Thou seest What confidence in fortune holds the foe:
Few gleam their lights and far; themselves lie prone, In sleep and wine dissolved; all's hushed around. Mark further what I muse of, in my mind
What purpose rises. 'Tis the cry of all,
Both folk and fathers, that we summon back Æneas, send messengers with tidings sure. If what I ask they promise thee-myself The deed's own fame suffices-'neath yon mound Methinks my feet would guide me to the walls And fort of Pallanteum." Euryalus,
Thrilled and transfixed with mighty love of praise, Thus at the word his glowing friend bespeaks: "Nisus, dost shun to knit me to thy side In high exploit? Or should I let thee go To face such perils singly? 'Twas not thus My sire Opheltes, to war's work inured, 'Mid Argive terrors and the woes of Troy Trained me and reared; nor at thy side have I So borne me, since I followed to the field High-souled Æneas and his utmost fate.
Here, here's a soul that scorns the sunlight, deems
That fame thou striv'st for cheaply bought with life." Then Nisus: "No such fear of thee had I,
Nor just it were; nay, so may mighty Jove, Or whoso on these things bends favoring eye, Restore me to thy side in triumph. But if— As oft in such adventure thou behold'st- Some chance or god should hurry me to harm, I would that thou survive me. At thine age It is more meet to live. Oh, be there one To lay me, snatched or ransomed from the fray, In earth, or, if some wonted hap forbid,
Pay funeral offerings to my absent dust, And grace me with a tomb! Nor let me bring Such grief on that sad mother, who, alone Of many mothers, dared follow thee, her boy,1 And hath no heart for great Acestes' town." But he: "Thou weavest empty pleas in vain, Nor doth my purpose alter or give way.
Speed we betimes!" He spake, and roused the watch, Who to their charge succeed, then quits his post, And, step by step with Nisus, seeks the prince.
All creatures else on earth were easing care With slumber, and their hearts forgot to ache. The foremost Teucrian lords, their flower of war, Were kingdom's weal debating—what to do, Who to Æneas should the tidings bear.
Leaning on their long spears, and shield on arm, Midmost the camp in a clear space they stood. Then Nisus and with him Euryalus
In eager haste crave audience: what they urged Was weighty, and would recompense delay.
Iulus first to their impatient suit
1 In general, the older and less hardy of the Trojan company had been left behind, in Sicily, to found a colony under the rule of King Acestes. The mother of Euryalus was an exception.
Gave audience, and bade Nisus speak; then thus The son of Hyrtacus: "O sons of Troy,
Hearken with kindly heed, nor let the worth Of what we offer by our years be weighed. Dissolved in wine and sleep, the Rutuli Keep silence: our own eyes have marked a spot For stratagem left open, where yon gate Lets in or out upon the seaward side.
Their line of fires is broken, and black smoke Goes up to heaven. Let us but use the chance To seek Æneas and Pallanteum's fort, Soon will ye see us here at hand with spoils, After great slaughter done. Nor will the way We go beguile us: down the valleys dim, Assiduous in the chase, we have seen gleam The city, and all the river-windings know." Aletes hereupon, with years o'erweighed And ripe of wisdom, spake: "Gods of our sires, Whose power divine still watches over Troy, Howbeit, ye think not a full end to make. Of all the Teucrians, in that ye vouchsafe Our youth such valor and heart-steadfastness." So saying, the shoulders and right hands of both Embraced he, and bathed all his face with tears. "What guerdon, heroes, of your glorious deeds Can I deem worthy to be paid you? First Heaven and your own hearts will the best bestow; Then good Æneas, what else remains anon Will yield you, and Ascanius, whose fresh youth Service so noble never can forget."
"Nay 1," breaks in Ascanius, "whose sole hope Of safety hangs upon my sire's return, By the great hearth-gods, Nisus, thee adjure, The guardian spirit of Assaracus,
And hoary Vesta's shrine; whate'er I have Of faith or fortune in your laps I lay: Bring back my sire, restore him to my sight: He here again, grief is not. Goblets twain Silver-wrought, rough with tracery, will I give, Ta'en by my sire, what time he smote and quelled Arisba, and twin tripods, and of gold Two mighty talents, and a bowl of yore, Sidonian Dido's gift. But if our lot Be to take Italy, to win and wield
A conqueror's scepter, and mete out the spoil- Thou sawest the war-steed whereon Turnus rode In arms, all golden-none but that, with shield And ruddy plume, O Nisus, will I pluck Forth from the lot, thine even from this day. Matrons twice six beside of choicest form My sire will give thee, and men-captives eke, All with their armor, and of land, to boot, What King Latinus hath for his domain. But thee, thrice honored youth, whose age my own Doth in the race press closer, from this hour To my whole heart I take, betide what may, And clasp thee for my comrade. Without thee, For mine own lot no glory shall be wooed; Come peace or war, to thee, both deed and word, Be all my heart unbosomed." Answered then Euryalus: "From such bold venture me No time shall prove degenerate, let but Fate Be kind, not cruel. But all gifts beyond, One boon I beg: I have a mother sprung From Priam's ancient race, whom Ilian land Held not, poor soul, nor king Acestes' town From faring forth with me. Her now I leave Unwitting of this peril, whatsoe’er,
« ÎnapoiContinuă » |