The Æneid of Virgil, Translated into English Verse. Virgil. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Virgil
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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XXXV . "Then Thoas comes; and Acamas, athirst For blood; and Neoptolemus, the heir Of mighty Peleus; and Machaon first; And Menelaus; and himself is there, Epeus, framer of the fatal snare. Now, stealing forward, on the town they fall, Buried in wine and sleep, the guards o'erbear, And ope the gates; their comrades at the call 307 Pour in and, joining bands, all muster by the wall.
XXXVI . "'Twas now the time, when on tired mortals crept First slumber, sweetest that celestials pour. Methought I saw poor Hector, as I slept, All bathed in tears and black with dust and gore, Dragged by the chariot and his swoln feet sore With piercing thongs. Ah me! how sad to view, How changed from him, that Hector, whom of yore Returning with Achilles' spoils we knew, 316
When on the ships of Greece his Phrygian fires he threw.
XXXVII . "Foul is his beard, his hair is stiff with gore, And fresh the wounds, those many wounds, remain, Which erst around his native walls he bore. Then, weeping too, I seem in sorrowing strain To hail the hero, with a voice of pain. 'O light of Troy, our refuge! why and how This long delay? Whence comest thou again, Long-looked-for Hector? How with aching brow, 325
Worn out by toil and death, do we behold thee now!
XXXVIII . "'But oh! what dire indignity hath marred The calmness of thy features? Tell me, why With ghastly wounds do I behold thee scarred?' To such vain quest he cared not to reply, But, heaving from his breast a deep-drawn sigh, 'Fly, Goddess-born! and get thee from the fire! The foes,' he said, 'are on the ramparts. Fly! All Troy is tumbling from her topmost spire. 334
No more can Priam's land, nor Priam's self require.
XXXIX . "'Could Troy be saved by mortal prowess, mine, Yea, mine had saved her. To thy guardian care She doth her Gods and ministries consign. Take them, thy future destinies to share, And seek for them another home elsewhere, That mighty city, which for thee and thine O'er traversed ocean shall the Fates prepare.' He spake, and quickly snatched from Vesta's shrine 343
The deathless fire and wreaths and effigy divine.
XL . "Meanwhile a mingled murmur through the street Rolls onward—wails of anguish, shrieks of fear, And though my father's mansion stood secrete, Embowered in foliage, nearer and more near Peals the dire clang of arms, and loud and clear, Borne on fierce echoes that in tumult blend, War-shout and wail come thickening on the ear. I start from sleep, the parapet ascend, 352
And from the sloping roof with eager ears attend.
XLI . "Like as a fire, when Southern gusts are rude, Falls on the standing harvest of the plain, Or torrent, hurtling with a mountain flood, Whelms field and oxens' toil and smiling grain, And rolls whole forests headlong to the main, While, weetless of the noise, on neighbouring height, Tranced in mute wonder, stands the listening swain, Then, then I see that Hector's words were right, 361
And all the Danaan wiles are naked to the light.

      

XLII . "And now, Deiphobus, thy halls of pride, Bowed by the flames, come ruining through the air; Next burn Ucalegon's, and far and wide The broad Sigean reddens with the glare. Then come the clamour and the trumpet's blare. Madly I rush to arms; though vain the fight, Yet burns my soul, in fury and despair, To rally a handful and to hold the height: 370
Sweet seems a warrior's death and danger a delight.
XLIII . "Lo, Panthus, flying from the Grecian bands, Panthus, the son of Othrys, Phoebus' seer, Bearing the sacred vessels in his hands, And vanquished home-gods, to the door draws near, His grandchild clinging to his side in fear. 'Panthus,' I cry, 'how fares the fight? what tower Still hold we?'—Sighing, he replies ''Tis here, The final end of all the Dardan power, 379
The last, sad day has come, the inevitable hour.
XLIV . "'Troy was, and we were Trojans, now, alas! No more, for perished is the Dardan fame. Fierce Jove to Argos biddeth all to pass, And Danaans rule a city wrapt in flame. High in the citadel the monstrous frame Pours forth an armed deluge to the day, And Sinon, puffed with triumph, spreads the flame. Part throng the gates, part block each narrow way; 388
Such hosts Mycenæ sends, such thousands to the fray.
XLV . "'Athwart the streets stands ready the array Of steel, and bare is every blade and bright. Scarce the first warders of the gates essay To stand and battle in the blinding night.' So spake the son of Othrys, and forthright, My spirit stirred with impulse from on high, I rush to arms amid the flames and fight, Where yells the war-fiend and the warrior's cry, 397
Mixt with the din of strife, mounts upward to the sky.
XLVI . "Here warlike Epytus, renowned in fight, And valiant Rhipeus gather to our side, And Hypanis and Dymas, matched in might, Join with us, by the glimmering moon descried. Here Mygdon's son, Coroebus, we espied, Who came to Troy—Cassandra's love to gain, And now his troop with Priam's hosts allied; Poor youth and heedless! whom in frenzied strain 406

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