At the old man’s words, a sudden thunder rumbled on our left, and a shooting star fell from the sky and flew across the dark, trailing flame and blinding light. We watched it glide over the rooftops and then bury its bright path in Ida’s forests. Just a glowing wake remained. Sulfur smoked from all the land. Now my father was defeated. He rose, prayed to 700 the gods, and hailed the sacred star. ‘No more delay! Gods of Troy, I follow you. I’ll go where you lead us. Save my household and my grandson. This sign is yours, Troy is in your power. I give in, my son. I won’t refuse to leave.’ Already
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From JRR Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings":
"‘I said I’d carry him, if it broke my back,’ he muttered, ‘and I will!’
‘Come, Mr. Frodo!’ he cried. ‘I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you and it as well. So up you get! Come on, Mr. Frodo dear! Sam will give you a ride. Just tell him where to go, and he’ll go.’
As Frodo clung upon his back, arms loosely about his neck, legs clasped firmly under his arms, Sam staggered to his feet; and then to his amazement he felt the burden light."
John Dryden's translation of this passage:
Scarce had he said, when, on our left, we hear
A peal of rattling thunder roll in air:
There shot a streaming lamp along the sky,
Which on the winged lightning seem’d to fly;
From o’er the roof the blaze began to move,
And, trailing, vanish’d in th’ Idaean grove.
It swept a path in heav’n, and shone a guide,
Then in a steaming stench of sulphur died.
“The good old man with suppliant hands implor’d
The gods’ protection, and their star ador’d.
‘Now, now,’ said he, ‘my son, no more delay!
I yield, I follow where Heav’n shews the way.
Keep, O my country gods, our dwelling place,
And guard this relic of the Trojan race,
This tender child! These omens are your own,
And you can yet restore the ruin’d town.
At least accomplish what your signs foreshow:
I stand resign’d, and am prepar’d to go.’
