The Æneids of Virgil, Done into English Verse. Virgil

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ I tore my body from the bed, and, crying out aloud,

       I stretched my upturned hands to heaven and unstained gifts I spilled

       Upon the hearth, and joyfully that worship I fulfilled.

       Anchises next I do to wit and all the thing unlock;

       And he, he saw the twi-branched stem, twin fathers of our stock,180

       And how by fault of yesterday through steads of old he strayed.

      'O son, well learned in all the lore of Ilium's fate,' he said,

       'Cassandra only of such hap would sing; I mind me well

       Of like fate meted to our folk full oft would she foretell;

       And oft would call to Italy and that Hesperian home.

       But who believed that Teucrian folk on any day might come

       Unto Hesperia's shores? or who might trow Cassandra then?

       Yield we to Phœbus, follow we as better counselled men

       The better part.'

       We, full of joy, obey him with one mind;

       From this seat too we fare away and leave a few behind;190

       With sail abroad in hollow tree we skim the ocean o'er.

      But when our keels the deep sea made, nor had we any more

       The land in sight, but sea around, and sky around was spread,

       A coal-blue cloud drew up to us that, hanging overhead,

       Bore night and storm, and mirky gloom o'er all the waters cast:

       Therewith the winds heap up the waves, the seas are rising fast

       And huge; and through the mighty whirl scattered we toss about;

       The storm-clouds wrap around the day, and wet mirk blotteth out

       The heavens, and mid the riven clouds the ceaseless lightnings live.

       So are we blown from out our course, through might of seas we drive,200

       Nor e'en might Palinurus self the day from night-tide sift,

       Nor have a deeming of the road atwixt the watery drift.

       Still on for three uncertain suns, that blind mists overlay,

       And e'en so many starless nights, across the sea we stray;

       But on the fourth day at the last afar upon us broke

       The mountains of another land, mid curling wreaths of smoke.

       Then fall the sails, we rise on oars, no sloth hath any place,

       The eager seamen toss the spray and sweep the blue sea's face;

       And me first saved from whirl of waves the Strophades on strand

       Now welcome; named by Greekish name Isles of the Sea, they stand210

       Amid the great Ionian folk: Celæno holds the shores,

       And others of the Harpies grim, since shut were Phineus' doors

       Against them, and they had to leave the tables they had won.

       No monster woefuller than they, and crueller is none

       Of all God's plagues and curses dread from Stygian waters sent.

       A wingèd thing with maiden face, whose bellies' excrement

       Is utter foul; and hookèd hands, and face for ever pale

       With hunger that no feeding stints.

      Borne thither, into haven come, we see how everywhere

       The merry wholesome herds of neat feed down the meadows fair,220

       And all untended goatish flocks amid the herbage bite.

       With point and edge we fall on them, and all the Gods invite,

       Yea very Jove, to share the spoil, and on the curvèd strand

       We strew the beds, and feast upon rich dainties of the land.

       When lo, with sudden dreadful rush from out the mountains hap

       The Harpy folk, and all about their clanging wings they flap,

       And foul all things with filthy touch as at the food they wrench,

       And riseth up their grisly voice amid the evilest stench.

      Once more then 'neath a hollow rock at a long valley's head,229

       Where close around the boughs of trees their quavering shadows shed,

       We dight the boards, and once again flame on the altars raise.

       Again from diverse parts of heaven, from dusky lurking-place,

       The shrieking rout with hookèd feet about the prey doth fly,

       Fouling the feast with mouth: therewith I bid my company

       To arms, that with an evil folk the war may come to pass.

       They do no less than my commands, and lay along the grass

       Their hidden swords, and therewithal their bucklers cover o'er.

       Wherefore, when swooping down again, they fill the curvèd shore

       With noise, Misenus blows the call from off a watch-stead high

       With hollow brass; our folk fall on and wondrous battle try,240

       Striving that sea-fowl's filthy folk with point and edge to spill.

       But nought will bite upon their backs, and from their feathers still

       Glanceth the sword, and swift they flee up 'neath the stars of air,

       Half-eaten meat and token foul leaving behind them there.

       But on a rock exceeding high yet did Celæeno rest,

       Unhappy seer! there breaks withal a voice from out her breast:

      'What, war to pay for slaughtered neat, war for our heifers slain?

       O children of Laomedon, the war then will ye gain?

       The sackless Harpies will ye drive from their own land away?

       Then let this sink into your souls, heed well the words I say;250

       The Father unto Phœbus told a tale that Phœbus told

       To me, and I the first-born fiend that same to you unfold:

       Ye sail for Italy, and ye, the winds appeased by prayer,

СКАЧАТЬ