The Aeneid Virgil (the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT) đ
- Author: Virgil
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Unmovâd with presents, and as deaf to prayâr.
Some new alliance must elsewhere be sought,
Or peace with Troy on hard conditions bought.
Latinus, sunk in sorrow, finds too late,
A foreign son is pointed out by fate;
And, till Aeneas shall Lavinia wed,
The wrath of Heavân is hovâring oâer his head.
The gods, he saw, espousâd the juster side,
When late their titles in the field were tried:
Witness the fresh laments, and funâral tears undried.
Thus, full of anxious thought, he summons all
The Latian senate to the council hall.
The princes come, commanded by their head,
And crowd the paths that to the palace lead.
Supreme in powâr, and reverencâd for his years,
He takes the throne, and in the midst appears.
Majestically sad, he sits in state,
And bids his envoys their success relate.
When Venulus began, the murmuring sound
Was hushâd, and sacred silence reignâd around.
âWe have,â said he, âperformâd your high command,
And passâd with peril a long tract of land:
We reachâd the place desirâd; with wonder fillâd,
The Grecian tents and rising towârs beheld.
Great Diomede has compassâd round with walls
The city, which Argyripa he calls,
From his own Argos namâd. We touchâd, with joy,
The royal hand that razâd unhappy Troy.
When introducâd, our presents first we bring,
Then crave an instant audience from the king.
His leave obtainâd, our native soil we name,
And tell thâ important cause for which we came.
Attentively he heard us, while we spoke;
Then, with soft accents, and a pleasing look,
Made this return: âAusonian race, of old
Renownâd for peace, and for an age of gold,
What madness has your alterâd minds possessâd,
To change for war hereditary rest,
Solicit arms unknown, and tempt the sword,
A needless ill your ancestors abhorrâd?
Weâ âfor myself I speak, and all the name
Of Grecians, who to Troyâs destruction came,
Omitting those who were in battle slain,
Or borne by rolling SimoĂŻs to the mainâ â
Not one but sufferâd, and too dearly bought
The prize of honour which in arms he sought;
Some doomâd to death, and some in exile drivân.
Outcasts, abandonâd by the care of Heavân;
So worn, so wretched, so despisâd a crew,
As evân old Priam might with pity view.
Witness the vessels by Minerva tossâd
In storms; the vengeful Capharean coast;
Thâ Euboean rocks! the prince, whose brother led
Our armies to revenge his injurâd bed,
In Egypt lost! Ulysses with his men
Have seen Charybdis and the Cyclopsâ den.
Why should I name Idomeneus, in vain
Restorâd to scepters, and expellâd again?
Or young Achilles, by his rival slain?
Evân he, the King of Men, the foremost name
Of all the Greeks, and most renownâd by fame,
The proud revenger of anotherâs wife,
Yet by his own adultâress lost his life;
Fell at his threshold; and the spoils of Troy
The foul polluters of his bed enjoy.
The gods have envied me the sweets of life,
My much lovâd country, and my more lovâd wife:
Banishâd from both, I mourn; while in the sky,
Transformâd to birds, my lost companions fly:
Hovâring about the coasts, they make their moan,
And cuff the cliffs with pinions not their own.
What squalid spectres, in the dead of night,
Break my short sleep, and skim before my sight!
I might have promisâd to myself those harms,
Mad as I was, when I, with mortal arms,
Presumâd against immortal powârs to move,
And violate with wounds the Queen of Love.
Such arms this hand shall never more employ;
No hate remains with me to ruinâd Troy.
I war not with its dust; nor am I glad
To think of past events, or good or bad.
Your presents I return: whateâer you bring
To buy my friendship, send the Trojan king.
We met in fight; I know him, to my cost:
With what a whirling force his lance he tossâd!
Heavâns! what a spring was in his arm, to throw!
How high he held his shield, and rose at evâry blow!
Had Troy producâd two more his match in might,
They would have changâd the fortune of the fight:
Thâ invasion of the Greeks had been returnâd,
Our empire wasted, and our cities burnâd.
The long defence the Trojan people made,
The war protracted, and the siege delayâd,
Were due to Hectorâs and this heroâs hand:
Both brave alike, and equal in command;
Aeneas, not inferior in the field,
In pious reverence to the gods excellâd.
Make peace, ye Latians, and avoid with care
Thâ impending dangers of a fatal war.â
He said no more; but, with this cold excuse,
Refusâd thâ alliance, and advisâd a truce.â
Thus Venulus concluded his report.
A jarring murmur fillâd the factious court:
As, when a torrent rolls with rapid force,
And dashes oâer the stones that stop the course,
The flood, constrainâd within a scanty space,
Roars horrible along thâ uneasy race;
White foam in gathâring eddies floats around;
The rocky shores rebellow to the sound.
The murmur ceasâd: then from his lofty throne
The king invokâd the gods, and thus begun:
âI wish, ye Latins, what we now debate
Had been resolvâd before it was too late.
Much better had it been for you and me,
Unforcâd by this our last necessity,
To have been earlier wise, than now to call
A council, when the foe surrounds the wall.
O citizens, we wage unequal war,
With men not only Heavânâs peculiar care,
But Heavânâs own race; unconquerâd in the field,
Or, conquerâd, yet unknowing how to yield.
What hopes you had in Diomedes, lay down:
Our hopes must centre on ourselves alone.
Yet those how feeble, and, indeed, how vain,
You see too well; nor need my words explain.
Vanquishâd without resource; laid flat by fate;
Factions within, a foe without the gate!
Not but I grant that all performâd their parts
With manly force, and with undaunted hearts:
With our united strength the war we wagâd;
With equal numbers, equal arms, engagâd.
You see thâ event.â âNow hear what I propose,
To save our friends, and satisfy our foes.
A tract of land the Latins have possessâd
Along the Tiber, stretching to the west,
Which now Rutulians and Auruncans till,
And their mixâd cattle graze the fruitful hill.
Those mountains fillâd with firs, that lower land,
If you consent, the Trojan shall command,
Callâd into part of what is ours; and there,
On terms agreed, the common country share.
There let them build and settle, if they please;
Unless they choose once more to cross the seas,
In search of seats remote from Italy,
And from unwelcome inmates set us free.
Then twice ten galleys let us build with speed,
Or twice as many more, if more they need.
Materials are at hand; a well-grown wood
Runs equal with
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