The Aeneid Part 29

The soldiers draw their lots, and, as they fall, By turns relieve each other on the wall.

Nigh where the foes their utmost guards advance, To watch the gate was warlike Nisus' chance.

His father Hyrtacus of n.o.ble blood; His mother was a huntress of the wood, And sent him to the wars. Well could he bear His lance in fight, and dart the flying spear, But better skill'd unerring shafts to send.

Beside him stood Euryalus, his friend: Euryalus, than whom the Trojan host No fairer face, or sweeter air, could boast- Scarce had the down to shade his cheeks begun.

One was their care, and their delight was one: One common hazard in the war they shar'd, And now were both by choice upon the guard.

Then Nisus thus: "Or do the G.o.ds inspire This warmth, or make we G.o.ds of our desire?

A gen'rous ardor boils within my breast, Eager of action, enemy to rest: This urges me to fight, and fires my mind To leave a memorable name behind.

Thou see'st the foe secure; how faintly s.h.i.+ne Their scatter'd fires! the most, in sleep supine Along the ground, an easy conquest lie: The wakeful few the fuming flagon ply; All hush'd around. Now hear what I revolve- A thought unripe- and scarcely yet resolve.

Our absent prince both camp and council mourn; By message both would hasten his return: If they confer what I demand on thee, (For fame is recompense enough for me,) Methinks, beneath yon hill, I have espied A way that safely will my pa.s.sage guide."

Euryalus stood list'ning while he spoke, With love of praise and n.o.ble envy struck; Then to his ardent friend expos'd his mind: "All this, alone, and leaving me behind!

Am I unworthy, Nisus, to be join'd?

Thinkist thou I can my share of glory yield, Or send thee una.s.sisted to the field?

Not so my father taught my childhood arms; Born in a siege, and bred among alarms!

Nor is my youth unworthy of my friend, Nor of the heav'n-born hero I attend.

The thing call'd life, with ease I can disclaim, And think it over-sold to purchase fame."

Then Nisus thus: "Alas! thy tender years Would minister new matter to my fears.

So may the G.o.ds, who view this friendly strife, Restore me to thy lov'd embrace with life, Condemn'd to pay my vows, (as sure I trust,) This thy request is cruel and unjust.

But if some chance- as many chances are, And doubtful hazards, in the deeds of war- If one should reach my head, there let it fall, And spare thy life; I would not perish all.

Thy bloomy youth deserves a longer date: Live thou to mourn thy love's unhappy fate; To bear my mangled body from the foe, Or buy it back, and fun'ral rites bestow.

Or, if hard fortune shall those dues deny, Thou canst at least an empty tomb supply.

O let not me the widow's tears renew!

Nor let a mother's curse my name pursue: Thy pious parent, who, for love of thee, Forsook the coasts of friendly Sicily, Her age committing to the seas and wind, When ev'ry weary matron stay'd behind."

To this, Euryalus: "You plead in vain, And but protract the cause you cannot gain.

No more delays, but haste!" With that, he wakes The nodding watch; each to his office takes.

The guard reliev'd, the gen'rous couple went To find the council at the royal tent.

All creatures else forgot their daily care, And sleep, the common gift of nature, share; Except the Trojan peers, who wakeful sate In nightly council for th' indanger'd state.

They vote a message to their absent chief, Shew their distress, and beg a swift relief.

Amid the camp a silent seat they chose, Remote from clamor, and secure from foes.

On their left arms their ample s.h.i.+elds they bear, The right reclin'd upon the bending spear.

Now Nisus and his friend approach the guard, And beg admission, eager to be heard: Th' affair important, not to be deferr'd.

Ascanius bids 'em be conducted in, Ord'ring the more experienc'd to begin.

Then Nisus thus: "Ye fathers, lend your ears; Nor judge our bold attempt beyond our years.

The foe, securely drench'd in sleep and wine, Neglect their watch; the fires but thinly s.h.i.+ne; And where the smoke in cloudy vapors flies, Cov'ring the plain, and curling to the skies, Betwixt two paths, which at the gate divide, Close by the sea, a pa.s.sage we have spied, Which will our way to great Aeneas guide.

Expect each hour to see him safe again, Loaded with spoils of foes in battle slain.

s.n.a.t.c.h we the lucky minute while we may; Nor can we be mistaken in the way; For, hunting in the vale, we both have seen The rising turrets, and the stream between, And know the winding course, with ev'ry ford."

He ceas'd; and old Alethes took the word: "Our country G.o.ds, in whom our trust we place, Will yet from ruin save the Trojan race, While we behold such dauntless worth appear In dawning youth, and souls so void of fear."

Then into tears of joy the father broke; Each in his longing arms by turns he took; Panted and paus'd; and thus again he spoke: "Ye brave young men, what equal gifts can we, In recompense of such desert, decree?

The greatest, sure, and best you can receive, The G.o.ds and your own conscious worth will give.

The rest our grateful gen'ral will bestow, And young Ascanius till his manhood owe."

"And I, whose welfare in my father lies,"

Ascanius adds, "by the great deities, By my dear country, by my household G.o.ds, By h.o.a.ry Vesta's rites and dark abodes, Adjure you both, (on you my fortune stands; That and my faith I plight into your hands,) Make me but happy in his safe return, Whose wanted presence I can only mourn; Your common gift shall two large goblets be Of silver, wrought with curious imagery, And high emboss'd, which, when old Priam reign'd, My conqu'ring sire at sack'd Arisba gain'd; And more, two tripods cast in antic mold, With two great talents of the finest gold; Beside a costly bowl, ingrav'd with art, Which Dido gave, when first she gave her heart.

But, if in conquer'd Italy we reign, When spoils by lot the victor shall obtain- Thou saw'st the courser by proud Turnus press'd: That, Nisus, and his arms, and nodding crest, And s.h.i.+eld, from chance exempt, shall be thy share: Twelve lab'ring slaves, twelve handmaids young and fair All clad in rich attire, and train'd with care; And, last, a Latian field with fruitful plains, And a large portion of the king's domains.

But thou, whose years are more to mine allied- No fate my vow'd affection shall divide From thee, heroic youth! Be wholly mine; Take full possession; all my soul is thine.

One faith, one fame, one fate, shall both attend; My life's companion, and my bosom friend: My peace shall be committed to thy care, And to thy conduct my concerns in war."

Then thus the young Euryalus replied: "Whatever fortune, good or bad, betide, The same shall be my age, as now my youth; No time shall find me wanting to my truth.

This only from your goodness let me gain (And, this ungranted, all rewards are vain) Of Priam's royal race my mother came- And sure the best that ever bore the name- Whom neither Troy nor Sicily could hold From me departing, but, o'erspent and old, My fate she follow'd. Ignorant of this (Whatever) danger, neither parting kiss, Nor pious blessing taken, her I leave, And in this only act of all my life deceive.

By this right hand and conscious Night I swear, My soul so sad a farewell could not bear.

Be you her comfort; fill my vacant place (Permit me to presume so great a grace) Support her age, forsaken and distress'd.

That hope alone will fortify my breast Against the worst of fortunes, and of fears."

He said. The mov'd a.s.sistants melt in tears.

Then thus Ascanius, wonderstruck to see That image of his filial piety: "So great beginnings, in so green an age, Exact the faith which I again ingage.

Thy mother all the dues shall justly claim, Creusa had, and only want the name.

Whate'er event thy bold attempt shall have, 'T is merit to have borne a son so brave.

Now by my head, a sacred oath, I swear, (My father us'd it,) what, returning here Crown'd with success, I for thyself prepare, That, if thou fail, shall thy lov'd mother share."

He said, and weeping, while he spoke the word, From his broad belt he drew a s.h.i.+ning sword, Magnificent with gold. Lycaon made, And in an ivory scabbard sheath'd the blade.

This was his gift. Great Mnestheus gave his friend A lion's hide, his body to defend; And good Alethes furnish'd him, beside, With his own trusty helm, of temper tried.

Thus arm'd they went. The n.o.ble Trojans wait Their issuing forth, and follow to the gate With prayers and vows. Above the rest appears Ascanius, manly far beyond his years, And messages committed to their care, Which all in winds were lost, and flitting air.

The trenches first they pa.s.s'd; then took their way Where their proud foes in pitch'd pavilions lay; To many fatal, ere themselves were slain.

They found the careless host dispers'd upon the plain, Who, gorg'd, and drunk with wine, supinely snore.

Unharness'd chariots stand along the sh.o.r.e: Amidst the wheels and reins, the goblet by, A medley of debauch and war, they lie.

Observing Nisus shew'd his friend the sight: "Behold a conquest gain'd without a fight.

Occasion offers, and I stand prepar'd; There lies our way; be thou upon the guard, And look around, while I securely go, And hew a pa.s.sage thro' the sleeping foe."

Softly he spoke; then striding took his way, With his drawn sword, where haughty Rhamnes lay; His head rais'd high on tapestry beneath, And heaving from his breast, he drew his breath; A king and prophet, by King Turnus lov'd: But fate by prescience cannot be remov'd.

Him and his sleeping slaves he slew; then spies Where Remus, with his rich retinue, lies.

His armor-bearer first, and next he kills His charioteer, intrench'd betwixt the wheels And his lov'd horses; last invades their lord; Full on his neck he drives the fatal sword: The gasping head flies off; a purple flood Flows from the trunk, that welters in the blood, Which, by the spurning heels dispers'd around, The bed besprinkles and bedews the ground.

Lamus the bold, and Lamyrus the strong, He slew, and then Serra.n.u.s fair and young.

From dice and wine the youth retir'd to rest, And puff'd the fumy G.o.d from out his breast: Ev'n then he dreamt of drink and lucky play- More lucky, had it lasted till the day.

The famish'd lion thus, with hunger bold, O'erleaps the fences of the nightly fold, And tears the peaceful flocks: with silent awe Trembling they lie, and pant beneath his paw.

Nor with less rage Euryalus employs The wrathful sword, or fewer foes destroys; But on th' ign.o.ble crowd his fury flew; He Fadus, Hebesus, and Rhoetus slew.

Oppress'd with heavy sleep the former fell, But Rhoetus wakeful, and observing all: Behind a s.p.a.cious jar he slink'd for fear; The fatal iron found and reach'd him there; For, as he rose, it pierc'd his naked side, And, reeking, thence return'd in crimson dyed.

The wound pours out a stream of wine and blood; The purple soul comes floating in the flood.

Now, where Messapus quarter'd, they arrive.

The fires were fainting there, and just alive; The warrior-horses, tied in order, fed.

Nisus observ'd the discipline, and said: "Our eager thirst of blood may both betray; And see the scatter'd streaks of dawning day, Foe to nocturnal thefts. No more, my friend; Here let our glutted execution end.

A lane thro' slaughter'd bodies we have made."

The bold Euryalus, tho' loth, obey'd.

Of arms, and arras, and of plate, they find A precious load; but these they leave behind.

Yet, fond of gaudy spoils, the boy would stay To make the rich caparison his prey, Which on the steed of conquer'd Rhamnes lay.

Nor did his eyes less longingly behold The girdle-belt, with nails of burnish'd gold.

This present Caedicus the rich bestow'd On Remulus, when friends.h.i.+p first they vow'd, And, absent, join'd in hospitable ties: He, dying, to his heir bequeath'd the prize; Till, by the conqu'ring Ardean troops oppress'd, He fell; and they the glorious gift possess'd.

These glitt'ring spoils (now made the victor's gain) He to his body suits, but suits in vain: Messapus' helm he finds among the rest, And laces on, and wears the waving crest.

Proud of their conquest, prouder of their prey, They leave the camp, and take the ready way.

But far they had not pa.s.s'd, before they spied Three hundred horse, with Volscens for their guide.

The queen a legion to King Turnus sent; But the swift horse the slower foot prevent, And now, advancing, sought the leader's tent.

They saw the pair; for, thro' the doubtful shade, His s.h.i.+ning helm Euryalus betray'd, On which the moon with full reflection play'd.