And we hold the land: in all
their thousands the nations of Italy are under arms.
their thousands the nations of Italy are under arms.
Virgil - Aeneid
'
[93-126]Thus her son in answer, who wheels the starry worlds: 'O
mother, whither callest thou fate? or what dost thou seek for these of
thine? May hulls have the right of immortality that were fashioned by
mortal hand? and may Aeneas traverse perils secure in insecurity? To
what god is power so great given? Nay, but when, their duty done, they
shall lie at last in their Ausonian haven, from all that have outgone
the waves and borne their Dardanian captain to the fields of Laurentum,
will I take their mortal body, and bid them be goddesses of the mighty
deep, even as Doto the Nereid and Galatea, when they cut the sea that
falls away from their breasts in foam. ' He ended; and by his brother's
Stygian streams, by the banks of the pitchy black-boiling chasm he
nodded confirmation, and shook all Olympus with his nod.
So the promised day was come, and the destinies had fulfilled their due
time, when Turnus' injury stirred the Mother to ward the brands from her
holy ships. First then a strange light flashed on all eyes, and a great
glory from the Dawn seemed to dart over the sky, with the choirs of Ida;
then an awful voice fell through air, filling the Trojan and Rutulian
ranks: 'Disquiet not yourselves, O Teucrians, to guard ships of mine,
neither arm your hands: sooner shall Turnus burn the seas than these
holy pines. You, go free; go, goddesses of the sea; the Mother bids it. '
And immediately each ship breaks the bond that held it, as with dipping
prows they plunge like dolphins deep into the water: from it again (O
wonderful and strange! ) they rise with maidens' faces in like number,
and bear out to sea.
The Rutulians stood dumb: Messapus himself is terror-stricken among his
disordered cavalry; even the stream of Tiber pauses with hoarse murmur,
and recoils from sea. But bold Turnus fails not a whit in confidence;
nay, he [127-158]raises their courage with words, nay, he chides them:
'On the Trojans are these portents aimed; Jupiter himself hath bereft
them of their wonted succour; nor do they abide Rutulian sword and fire.
So are the seas pathless for the Teucrians, nor is there any hope in
flight; they have lost half their world.
And we hold the land: in all
their thousands the nations of Italy are under arms. In no wise am I
dismayed by those divine oracles of doom the Phrygians insolently
advance. Fate and Venus are satisfied, in that the Trojans have touched
our fruitful Ausonian fields. I too have my fate in reply to theirs, to
put utterly to the sword the guilty nation who have robbed me of my
bride; not the sons of Atreus alone are touched by that pain, nor may
Mycenae only rise in arms. But to have perished once is enough! To have
sinned once should have been enough, in all but utter hatred of the
whole of womankind. Trust in the sundering rampart, and the hindrance of
their trenches, so little between them and death, gives these their
courage: yet have they not seen Troy town, the work of Neptune's hand,
sink into fire? But you, my chosen, who of you makes ready to breach
their palisade at the sword's point, and join my attack on their
fluttered camp? I have no need of Vulcanian arms, of a thousand ships,
to meet the Teucrians. All Etruria may join on with them in alliance:
nor let them fear the darkness, and the cowardly theft of their
Palladium, and the guards cut down on the fortress height. Nor will we
hide ourselves unseen in a horse's belly; in daylight and unconcealed
are we resolved to girdle their walls with flame. Not with Grecians will
I make them think they have to do, nor a Pelasgic force kept off till
the tenth year by Hector. Now, since the better part of day is spent,
for what remains refresh your bodies, glad that we have done so well,
and expect the order of battle. '
[159-192]Meanwhile charge is given to Messapus to blockade the gates
with pickets of sentries, and encircle the works with watchfires. Twice
seven are chosen to guard the walls with Rutulian soldiery; but each
leads an hundred men, crimson-plumed and sparkling in gold. They spread
themselves about and keep alternate watch, and, lying along the grass,
drink deep and set brazen bowls atilt.
[93-126]Thus her son in answer, who wheels the starry worlds: 'O
mother, whither callest thou fate? or what dost thou seek for these of
thine? May hulls have the right of immortality that were fashioned by
mortal hand? and may Aeneas traverse perils secure in insecurity? To
what god is power so great given? Nay, but when, their duty done, they
shall lie at last in their Ausonian haven, from all that have outgone
the waves and borne their Dardanian captain to the fields of Laurentum,
will I take their mortal body, and bid them be goddesses of the mighty
deep, even as Doto the Nereid and Galatea, when they cut the sea that
falls away from their breasts in foam. ' He ended; and by his brother's
Stygian streams, by the banks of the pitchy black-boiling chasm he
nodded confirmation, and shook all Olympus with his nod.
So the promised day was come, and the destinies had fulfilled their due
time, when Turnus' injury stirred the Mother to ward the brands from her
holy ships. First then a strange light flashed on all eyes, and a great
glory from the Dawn seemed to dart over the sky, with the choirs of Ida;
then an awful voice fell through air, filling the Trojan and Rutulian
ranks: 'Disquiet not yourselves, O Teucrians, to guard ships of mine,
neither arm your hands: sooner shall Turnus burn the seas than these
holy pines. You, go free; go, goddesses of the sea; the Mother bids it. '
And immediately each ship breaks the bond that held it, as with dipping
prows they plunge like dolphins deep into the water: from it again (O
wonderful and strange! ) they rise with maidens' faces in like number,
and bear out to sea.
The Rutulians stood dumb: Messapus himself is terror-stricken among his
disordered cavalry; even the stream of Tiber pauses with hoarse murmur,
and recoils from sea. But bold Turnus fails not a whit in confidence;
nay, he [127-158]raises their courage with words, nay, he chides them:
'On the Trojans are these portents aimed; Jupiter himself hath bereft
them of their wonted succour; nor do they abide Rutulian sword and fire.
So are the seas pathless for the Teucrians, nor is there any hope in
flight; they have lost half their world.
And we hold the land: in all
their thousands the nations of Italy are under arms. In no wise am I
dismayed by those divine oracles of doom the Phrygians insolently
advance. Fate and Venus are satisfied, in that the Trojans have touched
our fruitful Ausonian fields. I too have my fate in reply to theirs, to
put utterly to the sword the guilty nation who have robbed me of my
bride; not the sons of Atreus alone are touched by that pain, nor may
Mycenae only rise in arms. But to have perished once is enough! To have
sinned once should have been enough, in all but utter hatred of the
whole of womankind. Trust in the sundering rampart, and the hindrance of
their trenches, so little between them and death, gives these their
courage: yet have they not seen Troy town, the work of Neptune's hand,
sink into fire? But you, my chosen, who of you makes ready to breach
their palisade at the sword's point, and join my attack on their
fluttered camp? I have no need of Vulcanian arms, of a thousand ships,
to meet the Teucrians. All Etruria may join on with them in alliance:
nor let them fear the darkness, and the cowardly theft of their
Palladium, and the guards cut down on the fortress height. Nor will we
hide ourselves unseen in a horse's belly; in daylight and unconcealed
are we resolved to girdle their walls with flame. Not with Grecians will
I make them think they have to do, nor a Pelasgic force kept off till
the tenth year by Hector. Now, since the better part of day is spent,
for what remains refresh your bodies, glad that we have done so well,
and expect the order of battle. '
[159-192]Meanwhile charge is given to Messapus to blockade the gates
with pickets of sentries, and encircle the works with watchfires. Twice
seven are chosen to guard the walls with Rutulian soldiery; but each
leads an hundred men, crimson-plumed and sparkling in gold. They spread
themselves about and keep alternate watch, and, lying along the grass,
drink deep and set brazen bowls atilt.
