When their ships held the deep, nor any land farther appears, the seas
all round, and all round the sky, a dusky shower drew up overhead,
carrying night and storm, and the wave shuddered and gloomed.
all round, and all round the sky, a dusky shower drew up overhead,
carrying night and storm, and the wave shuddered and gloomed.
Virgil - Aeneid
Didst
thou disdain a sister's company in death? Thou shouldst have called me
to share thy doom; in the self-same hour, the self-same pang of steel
had been our portion. Did these very hands build it, did my voice call
on our father's gods, that with thee lying thus I should be away as one
without pity? Thou hast destroyed thyself and me together, O my sister,
and the Sidonian lords and people, and this thy city. Give her wounds
water: I will bathe them and catch on my lips the last breath that haply
yet lingers. ' So speaking she had climbed the high steps, and, wailing,
clasped and caressed her half-lifeless sister in her bosom, and stanched
the dark streams of blood with her gown. She, essaying to lift her heavy
eyes, swoons back; the deep-driven wound gurgles in her breast. Thrice
she rose, and strained to lift herself on her elbow; thrice she rolled
back on the pillow, and with wandering eyes sought the light of high
heaven, and moaned as she found it.
Then Juno omnipotent, pitying her long pain and difficult decease, sent
Iris down from heaven to unloose the struggling life from the body where
it clung. For since neither by fate did she perish, nor as one who had
earned her death, but woefully before her day, and fired by sudden
madness, not yet had Proserpine taken her lock from the golden head, nor
sentenced her to the Stygian under world. So Iris on dewy saffron
pinions flits down through the sky [701-705]athwart the sun in a trail
of a thousand changing dyes, and stopping over her head: 'This hair,
sacred to Dis, I take as bidden, and release thee from that body of
thine. ' So speaks she, and cuts it with her hand. And therewith all the
warmth ebbed forth from her, and the life passed away upon the winds.
BOOK FIFTH
THE GAMES OF THE FLEET
Meanwhile Aeneas and his fleet in unwavering track now held mid passage,
and cleft the waves that blackened under the North, looking back on the
city that even now gleams with hapless Elissa's funeral flame. Why the
broad blaze is lit lies unknown; but the bitter pain of a great love
trampled, and the knowledge of what woman can do in madness, draw the
Teucrians' hearts to gloomy guesses.
When their ships held the deep, nor any land farther appears, the seas
all round, and all round the sky, a dusky shower drew up overhead,
carrying night and storm, and the wave shuddered and gloomed. Palinurus,
master of the fleet, cries from the high stern: 'Alas, why have these
heavy storm-clouds girt the sky? lord Neptune, what wilt thou? ' Then he
bids clear the rigging and bend strongly to the oars, and brings the
sails across the wind, saying thus:
'Noble Aeneas, not did Jupiter give word and warrant would I hope to
reach Italy under such a sky. The shifting winds roar athwart our
course, and blow stronger out of the black west, and the air thickens
into mist: nor are we fit to force our way on and across. Fortune is the
stronger; let us follow her, and turn our course whither she calls.
[23-55]Not far away, I think, are the faithful shores of thy brother
Eryx, and the Sicilian haven, if only my memory retraces rightly the
stars I watched before. '
Then good Aeneas: 'Even I ere now discern the winds will have it so, and
thou urgest against them in vain. Turn thou the course of our sailing.
Could any land be welcomer to me, or where I would sooner choose to put
in my weary ships, than this that hath Dardanian Acestes to greet me,
and laps in its embrace lord Anchises' dust? ' This said, they steer for
harbour, while the following west wind stretches their sails; the fleet
runs fast down the flood, and at last they land joyfully on the familiar
beach. But Acestes high on a hill-top, amazed at the friendly squadron
approaching from afar, hastens towards them, weaponed and clad in the
shaggy skin of a Libyan she-bear. Him a Trojan mother conceived and bore
to Crimisus river; not forgetful of his parentage, he wishes them joy of
their return, and gladly entertains them on his rustic treasure and
comforts their weariness with his friendly store. So soon as the
morrow's clear daylight had chased the stars out of the east, Aeneas
calls his comrades along the beach together, and from a mounded hillock
speaks:
'Great people of Dardanus, born of the high blood of gods, the yearly
circle of the months is measured out to fulfilment since we laid the
dust in earth, all that was left of my divine father, and sadly
consecrated our altars. And now the day is at hand (this, O gods, was
your will), which I will ever keep in grief, ever in honour. Did I spend
it an exile on Gaetulian quicksands, did it surprise me on the Argolic
sea or in Mycenae town, yet would I fulfil the yearly vows and annual
ordinance of festival, and pile the altars with their due gifts.
thou disdain a sister's company in death? Thou shouldst have called me
to share thy doom; in the self-same hour, the self-same pang of steel
had been our portion. Did these very hands build it, did my voice call
on our father's gods, that with thee lying thus I should be away as one
without pity? Thou hast destroyed thyself and me together, O my sister,
and the Sidonian lords and people, and this thy city. Give her wounds
water: I will bathe them and catch on my lips the last breath that haply
yet lingers. ' So speaking she had climbed the high steps, and, wailing,
clasped and caressed her half-lifeless sister in her bosom, and stanched
the dark streams of blood with her gown. She, essaying to lift her heavy
eyes, swoons back; the deep-driven wound gurgles in her breast. Thrice
she rose, and strained to lift herself on her elbow; thrice she rolled
back on the pillow, and with wandering eyes sought the light of high
heaven, and moaned as she found it.
Then Juno omnipotent, pitying her long pain and difficult decease, sent
Iris down from heaven to unloose the struggling life from the body where
it clung. For since neither by fate did she perish, nor as one who had
earned her death, but woefully before her day, and fired by sudden
madness, not yet had Proserpine taken her lock from the golden head, nor
sentenced her to the Stygian under world. So Iris on dewy saffron
pinions flits down through the sky [701-705]athwart the sun in a trail
of a thousand changing dyes, and stopping over her head: 'This hair,
sacred to Dis, I take as bidden, and release thee from that body of
thine. ' So speaks she, and cuts it with her hand. And therewith all the
warmth ebbed forth from her, and the life passed away upon the winds.
BOOK FIFTH
THE GAMES OF THE FLEET
Meanwhile Aeneas and his fleet in unwavering track now held mid passage,
and cleft the waves that blackened under the North, looking back on the
city that even now gleams with hapless Elissa's funeral flame. Why the
broad blaze is lit lies unknown; but the bitter pain of a great love
trampled, and the knowledge of what woman can do in madness, draw the
Teucrians' hearts to gloomy guesses.
When their ships held the deep, nor any land farther appears, the seas
all round, and all round the sky, a dusky shower drew up overhead,
carrying night and storm, and the wave shuddered and gloomed. Palinurus,
master of the fleet, cries from the high stern: 'Alas, why have these
heavy storm-clouds girt the sky? lord Neptune, what wilt thou? ' Then he
bids clear the rigging and bend strongly to the oars, and brings the
sails across the wind, saying thus:
'Noble Aeneas, not did Jupiter give word and warrant would I hope to
reach Italy under such a sky. The shifting winds roar athwart our
course, and blow stronger out of the black west, and the air thickens
into mist: nor are we fit to force our way on and across. Fortune is the
stronger; let us follow her, and turn our course whither she calls.
[23-55]Not far away, I think, are the faithful shores of thy brother
Eryx, and the Sicilian haven, if only my memory retraces rightly the
stars I watched before. '
Then good Aeneas: 'Even I ere now discern the winds will have it so, and
thou urgest against them in vain. Turn thou the course of our sailing.
Could any land be welcomer to me, or where I would sooner choose to put
in my weary ships, than this that hath Dardanian Acestes to greet me,
and laps in its embrace lord Anchises' dust? ' This said, they steer for
harbour, while the following west wind stretches their sails; the fleet
runs fast down the flood, and at last they land joyfully on the familiar
beach. But Acestes high on a hill-top, amazed at the friendly squadron
approaching from afar, hastens towards them, weaponed and clad in the
shaggy skin of a Libyan she-bear. Him a Trojan mother conceived and bore
to Crimisus river; not forgetful of his parentage, he wishes them joy of
their return, and gladly entertains them on his rustic treasure and
comforts their weariness with his friendly store. So soon as the
morrow's clear daylight had chased the stars out of the east, Aeneas
calls his comrades along the beach together, and from a mounded hillock
speaks:
'Great people of Dardanus, born of the high blood of gods, the yearly
circle of the months is measured out to fulfilment since we laid the
dust in earth, all that was left of my divine father, and sadly
consecrated our altars. And now the day is at hand (this, O gods, was
your will), which I will ever keep in grief, ever in honour. Did I spend
it an exile on Gaetulian quicksands, did it surprise me on the Argolic
sea or in Mycenae town, yet would I fulfil the yearly vows and annual
ordinance of festival, and pile the altars with their due gifts.
