O
right Phrygian women, not even Phrygian men!
right Phrygian women, not even Phrygian men!
Virgil - Aeneid
Liger slays
Emathion, Asylas Corinaeus, the one skilled with the javelin, the other
with the stealthy arrow from afar. Caeneus slays Ortygius; Turnus
victorious Caeneus; Turnus Itys and Clonius, Dioxippus, and Promolus,
and Sagaris, and Idas where he stood in front of the turret top; Capys
Privernus: him Themillas' spear had first grazed lightly; the madman
threw down his shield to carry his hand to the wound; so the arrow
winged her way, and pinning his hand to his left side, broke into the
lungs with deadly wound. The son of Arcens stood splendid in arms, and
scarf embroidered with needlework and bright with Iberian blue, the
beautiful boy sent by his father Arcens from nurture in the grove of our
Lady about the streams of Symaethus, where Palicus' altar is rich and
gracious. Laying down his spear, Mezentius whirled thrice round his head
the tightened cord of his whistling sling, pierced him full between the
temples with the molten bullet, and stretched him all his length upon
the sand.
Then, it is said, Ascanius first aimed his flying shaft in war, wont
before to frighten beasts of the chase, and struck down a brave
Numanian, Remulus by name, but lately allied in bridal to Turnus'
younger sister. He advancing before his ranks clamoured things fit and
unfit to tell, and strode along lofty and voluble, his heart lifted up
with his fresh royalty.
'Take you not shame to be again held leaguered in your ramparts, O
Phrygians twice taken, and to make walls your fence from death? Behold
them who demand in war our wives for theirs! What god, what madness,
hath driven you to Italy? Here are no sons of Atreus nor glozing
Ulysses. A race of hardy breed, we carry our newborn children to the
streams and harden them in the bitter icy water; as boys they spend
wakeful nights over the chase, and tire out the woodland; but in
manhood, [607-639]unwearied by toil and trained to poverty, they subdue
the soil with their mattocks, or shake towns in war. Every age wears
iron, and we goad the flanks of our oxen with reversed spear; nor does
creeping old age weaken our strength of spirit or abate our force. White
hairs bear the weight of the helmet; and it is ever our delight to drive
in fresh spoil and live on our plunder. Yours is embroidered raiment of
saffron and shining sea-purple. Indolence is your pleasure, your delight
the luxurious dance; you wear sleeved tunics and ribboned turbans.
O
right Phrygian women, not even Phrygian men! traverse the heights of
Dindymus, where the double-mouthed flute breathes familiar music. The
drums call you, and the Berecyntian boxwood of the mother of Ida; leave
arms to men, and lay down the sword. '
As he flung forth such words of ill-ominous strain, Ascanius brooked it
not, and aimed an arrow on him from the stretched horse sinew; and as he
drew his arms asunder, first stayed to supplicate Jove in lowly vows:
'Jupiter omnipotent, deign to favour this daring deed. My hands shall
bear yearly gifts to thee in thy temple, and bring to stand before thine
altars a steer with gilded forehead, snow-white, carrying his head high
as his mother's, already pushing with his horn and making the sand fly
up under his feet. ' The Father heard and from a clear space of sky
thundered on the left; at once the fated bow rings, the grim-whistling
arrow flies from the tense string, and goes through the head of Remulus,
the steel piercing through from temple to temple. 'Go, mock valour with
insolence of speech! Phrygians twice taken return this answer to
Rutulians. ' Thus and no further Ascanius; the Teucrians respond in
cheers, and shout for joy in rising height of courage. Then haply in the
tract of heaven tressed Apollo sate looking down from his cloud on the
[640-673]Ausonian ranks and town, and thus addresses triumphant Iulus:
'Good speed to thy young valour, O boy! this is the way to heaven, child
of gods and parent of gods to be! Rightly shall all wars fated to come
sink to peace beneath the line of Assaracus; nor art thou bounded in a
Troy. ' So speaking, he darts from heaven's height, and cleaving the
breezy air, seeks Ascanius. Then he changes the fashion of his
countenance, and becomes aged Butes, armour-bearer of old to Dardanian
Anchises, and the faithful porter of his threshold; thereafter his lord
gave him for Ascanius' attendant. In all points like the old man Apollo
came, voice and colour, white hair, and grimly clashing arms, and speaks
these words to eager Iulus:
'Be it enough, son of Aeneas, that the Numanian hath fallen unavenged
beneath thine arrows; this first honour great Apollo allows thee, nor
envies the arms that match his own. Further, O boy, let war alone.
Emathion, Asylas Corinaeus, the one skilled with the javelin, the other
with the stealthy arrow from afar. Caeneus slays Ortygius; Turnus
victorious Caeneus; Turnus Itys and Clonius, Dioxippus, and Promolus,
and Sagaris, and Idas where he stood in front of the turret top; Capys
Privernus: him Themillas' spear had first grazed lightly; the madman
threw down his shield to carry his hand to the wound; so the arrow
winged her way, and pinning his hand to his left side, broke into the
lungs with deadly wound. The son of Arcens stood splendid in arms, and
scarf embroidered with needlework and bright with Iberian blue, the
beautiful boy sent by his father Arcens from nurture in the grove of our
Lady about the streams of Symaethus, where Palicus' altar is rich and
gracious. Laying down his spear, Mezentius whirled thrice round his head
the tightened cord of his whistling sling, pierced him full between the
temples with the molten bullet, and stretched him all his length upon
the sand.
Then, it is said, Ascanius first aimed his flying shaft in war, wont
before to frighten beasts of the chase, and struck down a brave
Numanian, Remulus by name, but lately allied in bridal to Turnus'
younger sister. He advancing before his ranks clamoured things fit and
unfit to tell, and strode along lofty and voluble, his heart lifted up
with his fresh royalty.
'Take you not shame to be again held leaguered in your ramparts, O
Phrygians twice taken, and to make walls your fence from death? Behold
them who demand in war our wives for theirs! What god, what madness,
hath driven you to Italy? Here are no sons of Atreus nor glozing
Ulysses. A race of hardy breed, we carry our newborn children to the
streams and harden them in the bitter icy water; as boys they spend
wakeful nights over the chase, and tire out the woodland; but in
manhood, [607-639]unwearied by toil and trained to poverty, they subdue
the soil with their mattocks, or shake towns in war. Every age wears
iron, and we goad the flanks of our oxen with reversed spear; nor does
creeping old age weaken our strength of spirit or abate our force. White
hairs bear the weight of the helmet; and it is ever our delight to drive
in fresh spoil and live on our plunder. Yours is embroidered raiment of
saffron and shining sea-purple. Indolence is your pleasure, your delight
the luxurious dance; you wear sleeved tunics and ribboned turbans.
O
right Phrygian women, not even Phrygian men! traverse the heights of
Dindymus, where the double-mouthed flute breathes familiar music. The
drums call you, and the Berecyntian boxwood of the mother of Ida; leave
arms to men, and lay down the sword. '
As he flung forth such words of ill-ominous strain, Ascanius brooked it
not, and aimed an arrow on him from the stretched horse sinew; and as he
drew his arms asunder, first stayed to supplicate Jove in lowly vows:
'Jupiter omnipotent, deign to favour this daring deed. My hands shall
bear yearly gifts to thee in thy temple, and bring to stand before thine
altars a steer with gilded forehead, snow-white, carrying his head high
as his mother's, already pushing with his horn and making the sand fly
up under his feet. ' The Father heard and from a clear space of sky
thundered on the left; at once the fated bow rings, the grim-whistling
arrow flies from the tense string, and goes through the head of Remulus,
the steel piercing through from temple to temple. 'Go, mock valour with
insolence of speech! Phrygians twice taken return this answer to
Rutulians. ' Thus and no further Ascanius; the Teucrians respond in
cheers, and shout for joy in rising height of courage. Then haply in the
tract of heaven tressed Apollo sate looking down from his cloud on the
[640-673]Ausonian ranks and town, and thus addresses triumphant Iulus:
'Good speed to thy young valour, O boy! this is the way to heaven, child
of gods and parent of gods to be! Rightly shall all wars fated to come
sink to peace beneath the line of Assaracus; nor art thou bounded in a
Troy. ' So speaking, he darts from heaven's height, and cleaving the
breezy air, seeks Ascanius. Then he changes the fashion of his
countenance, and becomes aged Butes, armour-bearer of old to Dardanian
Anchises, and the faithful porter of his threshold; thereafter his lord
gave him for Ascanius' attendant. In all points like the old man Apollo
came, voice and colour, white hair, and grimly clashing arms, and speaks
these words to eager Iulus:
'Be it enough, son of Aeneas, that the Numanian hath fallen unavenged
beneath thine arrows; this first honour great Apollo allows thee, nor
envies the arms that match his own. Further, O boy, let war alone.
