The Aeneid

by Virgil

lengthy causes working in her thoughts, And mystery seeds of envy, lay behind; Deep graven in her heart the doom remain’d Of partial Paris, and her form disdain’d;

I, who stroll in lousy country above, The majesty of heav’n, the sister spouse of Jove, For duration of years my fruitless pressure rent Against the skinny remains of break’d Troy! What international locations now to Juno’s pow’r will pray, Or off’jewelry on my slighted altars lay?”

Full nicely the god his sister’s envy knew, And what her goals and what her arts pursue.

as he spoke, he smooth’d the ocean, Dispell’d the darkness, and restor’d the day.

The weary Trojans ply their shatter’d oars To nearest land, and make the Libyan beaches.

Thy son (nor is th’ appointed season a ways) In Italy shall salary successful war, Shall tame fierce countries inside the bloody field, And sov’reign laws impose, and towns construct, Till, after ev’ry foe subdued, the sun Thrice thro’ the signs his annual race shall run:

Ilia the truthful, a priestess and a queen, Who, full of Mars, in time, with kindly throes, Shall at a delivery two goodly boys disclose. The royal babes a tawny wolf shall drain: Then Romulus his grandsire’s throne shall benefit, Of martial tow’rs the founder shall end up, The humans Romans name, the town Rome.

gentle children, in Libyan lands you're: A humans impolite in peace, and rough in war. The growing city, which from a ways you spot, Is Carthage, and a Tyrian colony. Phoenician Dido guidelines the growing kingdom,

Have braveness: to the gods allow the rest,

Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress’d with woe, To Pallas’ fane in lengthy procession pass, In hopes to reconcile their heav’nly foe.

Who has now not heard the tale of your woes, The name and fortune of your local region, The repute and valour of the Phrygian race?

knew the metropolis to Juno’s care belong’d.

And fire with love the proud Phoenician’s coronary heart: A love so violent, so strong, so certain, As neither age can trade, nor art can treatment.

amidst the keenness of the feast, The Tyrian hugs and fonds thee on her breast, And with candy kisses in her hands constrains, Thou may’st infuse thy venom in her veins.”

Not ev’n the hardest of our foes ought to listen, Nor stern Ulysses inform without a tear.

Think you the Grecians from your coasts are long gone? And are Ulysses’ arts no better regarded?

What Diomede, nor Thetis’ extra son, A thousand ships, nor ten years’ siege, had done: False tears and fawning words the metropolis won.

And all his father sparkles in his eyes;

Not Helen’s face, nor Paris, became in fault; But by means of the gods turned into this destruction delivered.

Appears, no more Creusa, nor my spouse, But a faded spectre,

Where gentle Tiber from his mattress beholds The float’ry meadows, and the feeding folds. There end your toils; and there your fates offer A quiet state, and a royal bride: There fortune shall the Trojan line restore,

Such matters as those Cassandra did relate. This day revives inside my mind what she Foretold of Troy renew’d in Italy, And Latian lands; but who ought to then have notion That Phrygian gods to Latium need to be brought, Or who believ’d what mad Cassandra taught?

We fly from Ithaca’s detested shore, And curse the land which dire Ulysses bore.

Whole days with him she passes in delights, And wastes in luxury long winter nights, Forgetful of her reputation and royal consider, Dissolv’d in ease, abandon’d to her lust.

The strong Thund’rer heard; Then forged his eyes on Carthage,

There find the Trojan leader, who wastes his days In slothful insurrection and inglorious ease, Nor minds the destiny town, giv’n by way of fate.

nor promis’d any such son. Hers became a hero, destin’d to command A martial race, and rule the Latian land, Who must his ancient line from Teucer draw, And on the conquer’d global impose the law.’

With this command the slumb’ring warrior wake.”

I by no means hop’d a mystery flight from for this reason, Much much less pretended to the lawful claim Of sacred nuptials, or a husband’s name.

young Ascanius justly may whinge Of his defrauded and destin’d reign.

Fair queen, oppose no longer what the gods command; Forc’d via my destiny, I go away your happy land.”

But exact Aeneas, tho’ he a lot desir’d To deliver that pity which her grief requir’d; Tho’ plenty he mourn’d, and labour’d along with his love, Resolv’d at duration, obeys the need of Jove; Reviews his forces: they with early care Unmoor their vessels, and for sea prepare.

There Ganymede is wrought with living artwork, Chasing thro’ Ida’s groves the trembling hart: Breathless he seems, but eager to pursue; When from aloft descends, in open view, The bird of Jove, and, sousing on his prey, With crooked talons bears the boy away.

“No Beroe this, tho’ she belies her face! What terrors from her frowning front get up! Behold a goddess in her ardent eyes!

seiz’d with rage divine, The matrons prosecute their mad design: They shriek aloud; they snatch, with impious palms, The food of altars; fires and flaming brands. Green boughs and saplings, mingled of their haste, And smoking torches, at the ships they forged. The flame, unstopp’d at the beginning, more fury profits,

From pole to pole the forky lightning flies; Loud rattling shakes the mountains and the obvious; Heav’n bellies downward, and descends in rain. Whole sheets of water from the clouds are despatched,

And greet with greedy joy th’ Italian strand.

hell lies open, and the dark domicile Which Acheron surrounds, th’ innavigable flood; Conduct me thro’ the regions void of mild, And lead me longing to my father’s sight.

“O goddess-born of excellent Anchises’ line, The gates of hell are open night time and day; Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the mission and robust labour lies.

From hence the Grecian bards their legends make, And provide the name Avernus to the lake.

Revengeful Cares and sullen Sorrows live, And faded Diseases, and repining Age, Want, Fear, and Famine’s unresisted rage; Here Toils, and Death, and Death’s half-brother, Sleep,

There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast:

Minos, the stern inquisitor, appears; And lives and crimes, together with his assessors, hears.

Commanded with the aid of the gods, and forc’d by using destiny. Those gods, that destiny, whose unresisted might Have sent me to those areas void of light,

what he says and swears, regards no extra Than the deaf rocks, when the loud billows roar; But whirl’d away, to shun his hateful sight, Hid in the wooded area and the shades of night time; Then sought Sichaeus thro’ the shady grove, Who answer’d all her cares, and equal’d all her love.

Some pious tears the pitying hero paid, And comply with’d along with his eyes the flitting color, Then took the forward way, by way of fate ordain’d,

Rhadamanthus policies the country. He hears and judges each committed crime; Enquires into the manner, region, and time. The conscious wretch need to all his acts screen, Loth to confess, not able to hide,

The Thracian bard, surrounded via the rest, There stands conspicuous in his flowing vest; His flying fingers, and harmonious quill,

In Alba he shall repair his royal seat, And, born a king, a race of kings beget.

See Romulus the terrific, born to repair The crown that when his injur’d grandsire wore. This prince a priestess of your blood shall endure, And like his sire in hands he shall seem. Two rising crests, his royal head adorn; Born from a god, himself to godhead born: His sire already signs him for the skies, And marks the seat amidst the deities. Auspicious chief! Thy race, in instances to return, Shall spread the conquests of imperial Rome.