The Aeneid. Публий Марон Вергилий

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СКАЧАТЬ did unhappy Troy befall:

      The wars that fame around the world had blown,

      All to the life, and ev’ry leader known.

      There Agamemnon, Priam here, he spies,

      And fierce Achilles, who both kings defies.

      He stopp’d, and weeping said: “O friend! ev’n here

      The monuments of Trojan woes appear!

      Our known disasters fill ev’n foreign lands:

      See there, where old unhappy Priam stands!

      Ev’n the mute walls relate the warrior’s fame,

      And Trojan griefs the Tyrians’ pity claim.”

      He said (his tears a ready passage find),

      Devouring what he saw so well design’d,

      And with an empty picture fed his mind:

      For there he saw the fainting Grecians yield,

      And here the trembling Trojans quit the field,

      Pursued by fierce Achilles thro’ the plain,

      On his high chariot driving o’er the slain.

      The tents of Rhesus next his grief renew,

      By their white sails betray’d to nightly view;

      And wakeful Diomede, whose cruel sword

      The sentries slew, nor spar’d their slumb’ring lord,

      Then took the fiery steeds, ere yet the food

      Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanthian flood.

      Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defied

      Achilles, and unequal combat tried;

      Then, where the boy disarm’d, with loosen’d reins,

      Was by his horses hurried o’er the plains,

      Hung by the neck and hair, and dragg’d around:

      The hostile spear, yet sticking in his wound,

      With tracks of blood inscrib’d the dusty ground.

      Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress’d with woe,

      To Pallas’ fane in long procession go,

      In hopes to reconcile their heav’nly foe.

      They weep, they beat their breasts, they rend their hair,

      And rich embroider’d vests for presents bear;

      But the stern goddess stands unmov’d with pray’r.

      Thrice round the Trojan walls Achilles drew

      The corpse of Hector, whom in fight he slew.

      Here Priam sues; and there, for sums of gold,

      The lifeless body of his son is sold.

      So sad an object, and so well express’d,

      Drew sighs and groans from the griev’d hero’s breast,

      To see the figure of his lifeless friend,

      And his old sire his helpless hand extend.

      Himself he saw amidst the Grecian train,

      Mix’d in the bloody battle on the plain;

      And swarthy Memnon in his arms he knew,

      His pompous ensigns, and his Indian crew.

      Penthisilea there, with haughty grace,

      Leads to the wars an Amazonian race:

      In their right hands a pointed dart they wield;

      The left, for ward, sustains the lunar shield.

      Athwart her breast a golden belt she throws,

      Amidst the press alone provokes a thousand foes,

      And dares her maiden arms to manly force oppose.

      Thus while the Trojan prince employs his eyes,

      Fix’d on the walls with wonder and surprise,

      The beauteous Dido, with a num’rous train

      And pomp of guards, ascends the sacred fane.

      Such on Eurotas’ banks, or Cynthus’ height,

      Diana seems; and so she charms the sight,

      When in the dance the graceful goddess leads

      The choir of nymphs, and overtops their heads:

      Known by her quiver, and her lofty mien,

      She walks majestic, and she looks their queen;

      Latona sees her shine above the rest,

      And feeds with secret joy her silent breast.

      Such Dido was; with such becoming state,

      Amidst the crowd, she walks serenely great.

      Their labor to her future sway she speeds,

      And passing with a gracious glance proceeds;

      Then mounts the throne, high plac’d before the shrine:

      In crowds around, the swarming people join.

      She takes petitions, and dispenses laws,

      Hears and determines ev’ry private cause;

      Their tasks in equal portions she divides,

      And, where unequal, there by lots decides.

      Another way by chance Aeneas bends

      His eyes, and unexpected sees his friends,

      Antheus, Sergestus grave, Cloanthus strong,

      And at their backs a mighty Trojan throng,

      Whom late the tempest on the billows toss’d,

      And widely scatter’d on another coast.

      The prince, unseen, surpris’d with wonder stands,

      And longs, with joyful haste, СКАЧАТЬ