The Aeneid Virgil (the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT) đ
- Author: Virgil
Book online «The Aeneid Virgil (the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT) đ». Author Virgil
A mortal woman mixing with a god.
For strong Alcides, after he had slain
The triple Geryon, drove from conquerâd Spain
His captive herds; and, thence in triumph led,
On Tuscan Tiberâs flowâry banks they fed.
Then on Mount Aventine the son of Jove
The priestess Rhea found, and forcâd to love.
For arms, his men long piles and javâlins bore;
And poles with pointed steel their foes in battle gore.
Like Hercules himself his son appears,
In salvage pomp; a lionâs hide he wears;
About his shoulders hangs the shaggy skin;
The teeth and gaping jaws severely grin.
Thus, like the god his father, homely dressâd,
He strides into the hall, a horrid guest.
Then two twin brothers from fair Tibur came,
(Which from their brother Tiburs took the name,)
Fierce Coras and Catillus, void of fear:
Armâd Argive horse they led, and in the front appear.
Like cloud-born Centaurs, from the mountainâs height
With rapid course descending to the fight;
They rush along; the rattling woods give way;
The branches bend before their sweepy sway.
Nor was Praenesteâs founder wanting there,
Whom fame reports the son of Mulciber:
Found in the fire, and fosterâd in the plains,
A shepherd and a king at once he reigns,
And leads to Turnusâ aid his country swains.
His own Praeneste sends a chosen band,
With those who plow Saturniaâs Gabine land;
Besides the succour which cold Anien yields,
The rocks of Hernicus, and dewy fields,
Anagnia fat, and Father Amaseneâ â
A numârous rout, but all of naked men:
Nor arms they wear, nor swords and bucklers wield,
Nor drive the chariot throâ the dusty field,
But whirl from leathern slings huge balls of lead,
And spoils of yellow wolves adorn their head;
The left foot naked, when they march to fight,
But in a bullâs raw hide they sheathe the right.
Messapus next, (great Neptune was his sire,)
Secure of steel, and fated from the fire,
In pomp appears, and with his ardour warms
A heartless train, unexercisâd in arms:
The just Faliscans he to battle brings,
And those who live where Lake Ciminius springs;
And where Feroniaâs grove and temple stands,
Who till Fescennian or Flavinian lands.
All these in order march, and marching sing
The warlike actions of their sea-born king;
Like a long team of snowy swans on high,
Which clap their wings, and cleave the liquid sky,
When, homeward from their watâry pastures borne,
They sing, and Asiaâs lakes their notes return.
Not one who heard their music from afar,
Would think these troops an army trainâd to war,
But flocks of fowl, that, when the tempests roar,
With their hoarse gabbling seek the silent shore.
Then Clausus came, who led a numârous band
Of troops embodied from the Sabine land,
And, in himself alone, an army brought.
âTwas he, the noble Claudian race begot,
The Claudian race, ordainâd, in times to come,
To share the greatness of imperial Rome.
He led the Cures forth, of old renown,
Mutuscans from their olive-bearing town,
And all thâ Eretian powârs; besides a band
That followâd from Velinumâs dewy land,
And Amiternian troops, of mighty fame,
And mountaineers, that from Severus came,
And from the craggy cliffs of Tetrica,
And those where yellow Tiber takes his way,
And where Himellaâs wanton waters play.
Casperia sends her arms, with those that lie
By Fabaris, and fruitful Foruli:
The warlike aids of Horta next appear,
And the cold Nursians come to close the rear,
Mixâd with the natives born of Latine blood,
Whom Allia washes with her fatal flood.
Not thicker billows beat the Libyan main,
When pale Orion sets in wintry rain;
Nor thicker harvests on rich Hermus rise,
Or Lycian fields, when Phoebus burns the skies,
Than stand these troops: their bucklers ring around;
Their trampling turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground.
High in his chariot then Halesus came,
A foe by birth to Troyâs unhappy name:
From Agamemnon bornâ âto Turnusâ aid
A thousand men the youthful hero led,
Who till the Massic soil, for wine renownâd,
And fierce Auruncans from their hilly ground,
And those who live by Sidicinian shores,
And where with shoaly fords Vulturnus roars,
Calesâ and Oscaâs old inhabitants,
And rough Saticulans, inurâd to wants:
Light demi-lances from afar they throw,
Fastenâd with leathern thongs, to gall the foe.
Short crooked swords in closer fight they wear;
And on their warding arm light bucklers bear.
Nor Oebalus, shalt thou be left unsung,
From nymph Semethis and old Telon sprung,
Who then in Teleboan Capri reignâd;
But that short isle thâ ambitious youth disdainâd,
And oâer Campania stretchâd his ample sway,
Where swelling Sarnus seeks the Tyrrhene sea;
Oâer Batulum, and where Abella sees,
From her high towârs, the harvest of her trees.
And these (as was the Teuton use of old)
Wield brazen swords, and brazen bucklers hold;
Sling weighty stones, when from afar they fight;
Their casques are cork, a covering thick and light.
Next these in rank, the warlike Ufens went,
And led the mountain troops that Nursia sent.
The rude Equicolae his rule obeyâd;
Hunting their sport, and plundâring was their trade.
In arms they plowâd, to battle still preparâd:
Their soil was barren, and their hearts were hard.
Umbro the priest the proud Marrubians led,
By King Archippus sent to Turnusâ aid,
And peaceful olives crownâd his hoary head.
His wand and holy words, the viperâs rage,
And venomâd wounds of serpents could assuage.
He, when he pleasâd with powerful juice to steep
Their temples, shut their eyes in pleasing sleep.
But vain were Marsian herbs, and magic art,
To cure the wound givân by the Dardan dart:
Yet his untimely fate thâ Angitian woods
In sighs remurmurâd to the Fucine floods.
The son of famâd Hippolytus was there,
Famâd as his sire, and, as his mother, fair;
Whom in Egerian groves Aricia bore,
And nursâd his youth along the marshy shore,
Where great Dianaâs peaceful altars flame,
In fruitful fields; and Virbius was his name.
Hippolytus, as old records have said,
Was by his stepdam sought to share her bed;
But, when no female arts his mind could move,
She turnâd to furious hate her impious love.
Torn by wild horses on the sandy shore,
Anotherâs crimes thâ unhappy hunter bore,
Glutting his fatherâs eyes with guiltless gore.
But chaste Diana, who his death deplorâd,
With Aesculapian herbs his life restorâd.
Then Jove, who saw from high, with just disdain,
The dead inspirâd with vital breath again,
Struck to the centre, with his flaming dart,
Thâ unhappy founder of the godlike art.
But Trivia kept in secret shades alone
Her care, Hippolytus, to fate unknown;
And callâd him Virbius in thâ Egerian grove,
Where then he livâd obscure, but safe from Jove.
For this, from Triviaâs temple and her wood
Are coursers drivân, who shed their masterâs
Comments (0)