No More Learning

Rumour flies suddenly, spreading over the little town, that they
ride in haste to the courts of the Tyrrhene king. Mothers redouble their
prayers in terror, as fear treads closer on peril and the likeness of
the War God looms larger in sight. Then Evander, clasping the hand of
his departing son, clings to him weeping inconsolably, and speaks thus:

'Oh, if Jupiter would restore me the years that are past, as I was when,
close under Praeneste, I cut down their foremost ranks and burned the
piled shields of the conquered! Then this right hand sent King Erulus
down to hell, though to him at his birth his mother Feronia (awful to
tell) had given three lives and triple arms to wield; thrice must he be
laid low in death; yet then this hand took all his lives and as often
stripped him of his arms. Never should I now, O son, be severed from thy
dear embrace; never had the insolent sword of Mezentius on my borders
dealt so many cruel deaths, widowed the city of so many citizens. But
you, O heavenly powers, and thou, Jupiter, Lord and Governor of Heaven,
have compassion, I pray, on [574-609]the Arcadian king, and hear a
father's prayers. If your deity and decrees keep my Pallas safe for me,
if I live that I may see him and meet him yet, I pray for life; any toil
soever I have patience to endure. But if, O Fortune, thou threatenest
some dread calamity, now, ah now, may I break off a cruel life, while
anxiety still wavers and expectation is in doubt, while thou, dear boy,
my one last delight, art yet clasped in my embrace; let no bitterer
message wound mine ear. ' These words the father poured forth at the
final parting; his servants bore him swooning within.

And now the cavalry had issued from the open gates, Aeneas and trusty
Achates among the foremost, then other of the Trojan princes, Pallas
conspicuous amid the column in scarf and inlaid armour; like the Morning
Star, when, newly washed in the ocean wave, he shews his holy face in
heaven, and melts the darkness away. Fearful mothers stand on the walls
and follow with their eyes the cloud of dust and the squadrons gleaming
in brass. They, where the goal of their way lies nearest, bear through
the brushwood in armed array. Forming in column, they advance noisily,
and the horse hoof shakes the crumbling plain with four-footed
trampling. There is a high grove by the cold river of Caere, widely
revered in ancestral awe; sheltering hills shut it in all about and
girdle the woodland with their dark firs. Rumour is that the old
Pelasgians, who once long ago held the Latin borders, consecrated the
grove and its festal day to Silvanus, god of the tilth and flock.
Not
far from it Tarchon and his Tyrrhenians were encamped in a protected
place; and now from the hill-top the tents of all their army might be
seen outspread on the fields. Lord Aeneas and his chosen warriors draw
hither and refresh their weary horses and limbs.

But Venus the white goddess drew nigh, bearing her gifts through the
clouds of heaven; and when she saw her [610-646]son withdrawn far apart
in the valley's recess by the cold river, cast herself in his way, and
addressed him thus: 'Behold perfected the presents of my husband's
promised craftsmanship: so shalt thou not shun, O my child, soon to
challenge the haughty Laurentines or fiery Turnus to battle. ' The
Cytherean spoke, and sought her son's embrace, and laid the armour
glittering under an oak over against him. He, rejoicing in the
magnificence of the goddess' gift, cannot have his fill of turning his
eyes over it piece by piece, and admires and handles between his arms
the helmet, dread with plumes and spouting flame, as when a blue cloud
takes fire in the sunbeams and gleams afar; then the smooth greaves of
electrum and refined gold, the spear, and the shield's ineffable design.
There the Lord of Fire had fashioned the story of Italy and the triumphs
of the Romans, not witless of prophecy or ignorant of the age to be;
there all the race of Ascanius' future seed, and their wars fought one
by one. Likewise had he fashioned the she-wolf couched after the birth
in the green cave of Mars; round her teats the twin boys hung playing,
and fearlessly mouthed their foster-mother; she, with round neck bent
back, stroked them by turns and shaped their bodies with her tongue.
Thereto not far from this he had set Rome and the lawless rape of the
Sabines in the concourse of the theatre when the great Circensian games
were celebrated, and a fresh war suddenly arising between the people of
Romulus and aged Tatius and austere Cures. Next these same kings laid
down their mutual strife and stood armed before Jove's altar with cup in
hand, and joined treaty over a slain sow. Not far from there four-horse
chariots driven apart had torn Mettus asunder (but thou, O Alban,
shouldst have kept by thy words! ), and Tullus tore the flesh of the liar
through the forest, his splashed blood dripping from the briars.
Therewithal Porsena commanded [647-681]to admit the exiled Tarquin, and
held the city in the grasp of a strong blockade; the Aeneadae rushed on
the sword for liberty. Him thou couldst espy like one who chafes and
like one who threatens, because Cocles dared to tear down the bridge,
and Cloelia broke her bonds and swam the river. Highest of all Manlius,
warder of the Tarpeian fortress, stood with the temple behind him and
held the high Capitoline; and the thatch of Romulus' palace stood rough
and fresh. And here the silver goose, fluttering in the gilded
colonnades, cried that the Gauls were there on the threshold. The Gauls
were there among the brushwood, hard on the fortress, secure in the
darkness and the dower of shadowy night.