so hardly severed from Sidon city, shall I again drive
them seaward, and bid them spread their sails to the tempest?
them seaward, and bid them spread their sails to the tempest?
Virgil - Aeneid
.
Herself, the holy cake in her pure hands, hard by the
altars, with one foot unshod and garments flowing loose, she invokes the
gods ere she die, and the stars that know of doom; then prays to
whatsoever deity looks in righteousness and remembrance on lovers ill
allied.
Night fell; weary creatures took quiet slumber all over earth, and
woodland and wild waters had sunk to rest; now the stars wheel midway on
their gliding path, now all the country is silent, and beasts and gay
birds that haunt liquid levels of lake or thorny rustic thicket lay
couched asleep under the still night. But not so the distressed
Phoenician, nor does she ever sink asleep or take the night upon eyes or
breast; her pain redoubles, and her love swells to renewed madness, as
she tosses on the strong tide of wrath. Even so she begins, and thus
revolves with her heart alone:
'See, what do I? Shall I again make trial of mine old wooers that will
scorn me? and stoop to sue for a Numidian marriage among those whom
already over and over I have disdained for husbands? Then shall I follow
the Ilian fleets and the uttermost bidding of the Teucrians? because it
is good to think they were once raised up by my [539-570]succour, or
the grace of mine old kindness is fresh in their remembrance? And how
should they let me, if I would? or take the odious woman on their
haughty ships? art thou ignorant, ah me, even in ruin, and knowest not
yet the forsworn race of Laomedon? And then? shall I accompany the
triumphant sailors, a lonely fugitive? or plunge forth girt with all my
Tyrian train?
so hardly severed from Sidon city, shall I again drive
them seaward, and bid them spread their sails to the tempest? Nay die
thou, as thou deservest, and let the steel end thy pain. With thee it
began; overborne by my tears, thou, O my sister, dost load me with this
madness and agony, and layest me open to the enemy. I could not spend a
wild life without stain, far from a bridal chamber, and free from touch
of distress like this! O faith ill kept, that was plighted to Sychaeus'
ashes! ' Thus her heart broke in long lamentation.
Now Aeneas was fixed to go, and now, with all set duly in order, was
taking hasty sleep on his high stern. To him as he slept the god
appeared once again in the same fashion of countenance, and thus seemed
to renew his warning, in all points like to Mercury, voice and hue and
golden hair and limbs gracious in youth. 'Goddess-born, canst thou sleep
on in such danger? and seest not the coming perils that hem thee in,
madman! nor hearest the breezes blowing fair? She, fixed on death, is
revolving craft and crime grimly in her bosom, and swells the changing
surge of wrath. Fliest thou not hence headlong, while headlong flight is
yet possible? Even now wilt thou see ocean weltering with broken
timbers, see the fierce glare of torches and the beach in a riot of
flame, if dawn break on thee yet dallying in this land. Up ho! linger no
more!
altars, with one foot unshod and garments flowing loose, she invokes the
gods ere she die, and the stars that know of doom; then prays to
whatsoever deity looks in righteousness and remembrance on lovers ill
allied.
Night fell; weary creatures took quiet slumber all over earth, and
woodland and wild waters had sunk to rest; now the stars wheel midway on
their gliding path, now all the country is silent, and beasts and gay
birds that haunt liquid levels of lake or thorny rustic thicket lay
couched asleep under the still night. But not so the distressed
Phoenician, nor does she ever sink asleep or take the night upon eyes or
breast; her pain redoubles, and her love swells to renewed madness, as
she tosses on the strong tide of wrath. Even so she begins, and thus
revolves with her heart alone:
'See, what do I? Shall I again make trial of mine old wooers that will
scorn me? and stoop to sue for a Numidian marriage among those whom
already over and over I have disdained for husbands? Then shall I follow
the Ilian fleets and the uttermost bidding of the Teucrians? because it
is good to think they were once raised up by my [539-570]succour, or
the grace of mine old kindness is fresh in their remembrance? And how
should they let me, if I would? or take the odious woman on their
haughty ships? art thou ignorant, ah me, even in ruin, and knowest not
yet the forsworn race of Laomedon? And then? shall I accompany the
triumphant sailors, a lonely fugitive? or plunge forth girt with all my
Tyrian train?
so hardly severed from Sidon city, shall I again drive
them seaward, and bid them spread their sails to the tempest? Nay die
thou, as thou deservest, and let the steel end thy pain. With thee it
began; overborne by my tears, thou, O my sister, dost load me with this
madness and agony, and layest me open to the enemy. I could not spend a
wild life without stain, far from a bridal chamber, and free from touch
of distress like this! O faith ill kept, that was plighted to Sychaeus'
ashes! ' Thus her heart broke in long lamentation.
Now Aeneas was fixed to go, and now, with all set duly in order, was
taking hasty sleep on his high stern. To him as he slept the god
appeared once again in the same fashion of countenance, and thus seemed
to renew his warning, in all points like to Mercury, voice and hue and
golden hair and limbs gracious in youth. 'Goddess-born, canst thou sleep
on in such danger? and seest not the coming perils that hem thee in,
madman! nor hearest the breezes blowing fair? She, fixed on death, is
revolving craft and crime grimly in her bosom, and swells the changing
surge of wrath. Fliest thou not hence headlong, while headlong flight is
yet possible? Even now wilt thou see ocean weltering with broken
timbers, see the fierce glare of torches and the beach in a riot of
flame, if dawn break on thee yet dallying in this land. Up ho! linger no
more!
