who stooped his
shoulders
to a father outworn with
age!
age!
Virgil - Aeneid
' He spoke, and snatching his sword like lightning from the
sheath, strikes at the hawser with the drawn steel. The same zeal
catches all at once; rushing and tearing they quit the shore; the sea is
hidden under their fleets; strongly they toss up the foam and sweep the
blue water.
And now Dawn broke, and, leaving the saffron bed of Tithonus, shed her
radiance anew over the world; when the Queen saw from her watch-tower
the first light whitening, and the fleet standing out under squared
sail, and discerned shore and haven empty of all their oarsmen. Thrice
and four times she struck her hand on her lovely breast and rent her
yellow hair: 'God! ' she cries, 'shall he go? shall an alien make mock of
our realm? Will they not issue in armed pursuit from all the city, and
some launch ships from the dockyards? Go; bring fire in haste, serve
weapons, swing out the oars! What do I talk? or where am I? what mad
change is on my purpose? Alas, Dido! now thou dost feel thy wickedness;
that had graced thee once, when thou gavest away thy crown. Behold the
faith and hand of him! who, they say, carries his household's ancestral
gods about with him!
who stooped his shoulders to a father outworn with
age! Could I not have riven his body in sunder and strewn it on the
waves? and slain with the sword his comrades and his dear Ascanius, and
served him for the banquet at his father's table? But the chance of
battle had been dubious. If it had! whom did I fear [604-635]with my
death upon me? I should have borne firebrands into his camp and filled
his decks with flame, blotted out father and son and race together, and
flung myself atop of all. Sun, whose fires lighten all the works of the
world, and thou, Juno, mediatress and witness of these my distresses,
and Hecate, cried on by night in crossways of cities, and you, fatal
avenging sisters and gods of dying Elissa, hear me now; bend your just
deity to my woes, and listen to our prayers. If it must needs be that
the accursed one touch his haven and float up to land, if thus Jove's
decrees demand, and this is the appointed term,--yet, distressed in war
by an armed and gallant nation, driven homeless from his borders, rent
from Iulus' embrace, let him sue for succour and see death on death
untimely on his people; nor when he hath yielded him to the terms of a
harsh peace, may he have joy of his kingdom or the pleasant light; but
let him fall before his day and without burial on a waste of sand. This
I pray; this and my blood with it I pour for the last utterance. And
you, O Tyrians, hunt his seed with your hatred for all ages to come;
send this guerdon to our ashes. Let no kindness nor truce be between the
nations. Arise out of our dust, O unnamed avenger, to pursue the
Dardanian settlement with firebrand and steel. Now, then, whensoever
strength shall be given, I invoke the enmity of shore to shore, wave to
water, sword to sword; let their battles go down to their children's
children. '
So speaks she as she kept turning her mind round about, seeking how
soonest to break away from the hateful light. Thereon she speaks briefly
to Barce, nurse of Sychaeus; for a heap of dusky ashes held her own, in
her country of long ago:
'Sweet nurse, bring Anna my sister hither to me.
sheath, strikes at the hawser with the drawn steel. The same zeal
catches all at once; rushing and tearing they quit the shore; the sea is
hidden under their fleets; strongly they toss up the foam and sweep the
blue water.
And now Dawn broke, and, leaving the saffron bed of Tithonus, shed her
radiance anew over the world; when the Queen saw from her watch-tower
the first light whitening, and the fleet standing out under squared
sail, and discerned shore and haven empty of all their oarsmen. Thrice
and four times she struck her hand on her lovely breast and rent her
yellow hair: 'God! ' she cries, 'shall he go? shall an alien make mock of
our realm? Will they not issue in armed pursuit from all the city, and
some launch ships from the dockyards? Go; bring fire in haste, serve
weapons, swing out the oars! What do I talk? or where am I? what mad
change is on my purpose? Alas, Dido! now thou dost feel thy wickedness;
that had graced thee once, when thou gavest away thy crown. Behold the
faith and hand of him! who, they say, carries his household's ancestral
gods about with him!
who stooped his shoulders to a father outworn with
age! Could I not have riven his body in sunder and strewn it on the
waves? and slain with the sword his comrades and his dear Ascanius, and
served him for the banquet at his father's table? But the chance of
battle had been dubious. If it had! whom did I fear [604-635]with my
death upon me? I should have borne firebrands into his camp and filled
his decks with flame, blotted out father and son and race together, and
flung myself atop of all. Sun, whose fires lighten all the works of the
world, and thou, Juno, mediatress and witness of these my distresses,
and Hecate, cried on by night in crossways of cities, and you, fatal
avenging sisters and gods of dying Elissa, hear me now; bend your just
deity to my woes, and listen to our prayers. If it must needs be that
the accursed one touch his haven and float up to land, if thus Jove's
decrees demand, and this is the appointed term,--yet, distressed in war
by an armed and gallant nation, driven homeless from his borders, rent
from Iulus' embrace, let him sue for succour and see death on death
untimely on his people; nor when he hath yielded him to the terms of a
harsh peace, may he have joy of his kingdom or the pleasant light; but
let him fall before his day and without burial on a waste of sand. This
I pray; this and my blood with it I pour for the last utterance. And
you, O Tyrians, hunt his seed with your hatred for all ages to come;
send this guerdon to our ashes. Let no kindness nor truce be between the
nations. Arise out of our dust, O unnamed avenger, to pursue the
Dardanian settlement with firebrand and steel. Now, then, whensoever
strength shall be given, I invoke the enmity of shore to shore, wave to
water, sword to sword; let their battles go down to their children's
children. '
So speaks she as she kept turning her mind round about, seeking how
soonest to break away from the hateful light. Thereon she speaks briefly
to Barce, nurse of Sychaeus; for a heap of dusky ashes held her own, in
her country of long ago:
'Sweet nurse, bring Anna my sister hither to me.
