Complete Works of William Morris, page 696
And now his son amid his peers with Tuscan ship-host sails,
Driving with oars the Centaur huge, who o’er the waters’ face
Hangs, threatening ocean with a rock, huge from his lofty place,
And ever with his length of keel the deep sea furrows o’er.
Then he, e’en Ocnus, stirreth up folk from his father’s shore,
Who from the love of Tuscan flood and fate-wise Manto came,
And gave, O Mantua, walls to thee, and gave his mother’s name: 200
Mantua, the rich in father-folk, though not one-stemmed her home.
Three stems are there, from each whereof four peoples forth are come,
While she herself, the head of all, from Tuscan blood hath might.
Five hundred thence Mezentius arms against himself in fight,
Whom Mincius’ flood, Benacus’ son, veiled in the sedges grey,
Was leading in the fir of fight across the watery way.
Then heavy-huge Aulestes goes; the oar-wood hundred-fold
Rises for beating of the flood, as foam the seas uprolled.
Huge Triton ferries him, whose shell the deep blue sea doth fright:
Up from the shaggy naked waist manlike is he to sight 210
As there he swims, but underneath whale-bellied is he grown;
Beneath the half-beast breast of him the foaming waters moan.
So many chosen dukes of men in thrice ten keels they sail,
And cut with brass the meads of brine for Troy and its avail.
And now had day-tide failed the sky, and Phoebe, sweet and fair,
Amid her nightly-straying wain did mid Olympus wear.
Æneas, who might give his limbs no whit of peacefulness,
Was sitting with the helm in hand, heeding the sail-gear’s stress,
When lo a company of friends his midmost course do meet:
The Nymphs to wit, who Cybele, the goddess holy-sweet, 220
Bade turn from ships to very nymphs, and ocean’s godhead have.
So evenly they swam the sea, and sundered wave and wave,
As many as the brazen beaks once by the sea-side lay;
Afar they know their king, and round in dancing-wise they play;
But one of them, Cymodocea, who speech-lore knew the best,
Drew nigh astern and laid thereon her right hand, with her breast
Above the flood, the while her left through quiet waves rowed on,
And thus bespoke him all unware:
“Wak’st thou, O Godhead’s son!
Æneas, wake! and loose the sheets and let all canvas fill!
We were the pine-trees on a time of Ida’s holy hill, 230
Thy ship-host once, but sea-nymphs now: when that Rutulian lord
Fell faithless, headlong, on our lives with firebrand and the sword,
Unwillingly we brake our bonds and sought thee o’er the main.
The Mother in her pity thus hath wrought our shape again,
And given us gift of godhead’s life in house of ocean’s ground.
Lo now, the boy Ascanius by dyke and wall is bound
Amid the spears, the battle-wood that Latins forth have sent.
And now the horse of Arcady, with stout Etruscans blent,
Holdeth due tryst. Now is the mind of Turnus firmly set
To thrust between them, lest thy camp they succour even yet. 240
Wherefore arise, and when the dawn first climbs the heavenly shore
Call on thy folk, and take thy shield unconquered evermore,
The Fire-lord’s gift, who wrought its lips with circling gold about:
Tomorrow’s light, unless thou deem’st my words are all to doubt,
Shall see Rutulian death in heaps a-lying on the land.”
Therewith departing, forth she thrust the tall ship with her hand,
As one who had good skill therein, and then across the seas
Swifter than dart she fled, or shaft that matcheth well the breeze,
And straight the others hastened on. All mazed was he of Troy,
Anchises’ seed, but yet the sign upraised his heart with joy, 250
And, looking to the hollow heaven, in few words prayed he thus
“Kind Ida-Mother of the Gods, whose heart loves Dindymus
And towered towns, and lions yoked and tamed to bear the bit,
Be thou my battle-leader now, and do thou further it,
This omen, and with favouring foot the Trojan folk draw nigh.”
But while he spake, Day, come again, had run adown the sky,
With light all utter perfect wrought, and driven away the night.
Then folk he biddeth follow on the banners of the fight,
And make them ready for the play and shape their hearts for war.
But he, aloft upon the poop, now sees them where they are, 260
His leaguered Teucrians, as his left uprears the blazing shield;
And then, the sons of Dardanus up to the starry field
Send forth the cry, and hope is come to whet their battle-wrath.
Thick flies their spear-storm: ’tis as when the Strymon cranes give forth
Their war-sign on the mirky rack, and down the heavens they run
Sonorous, fleeing southern breeze with clamour following on.
But wondrous to Rutulian king and dukes of Italy
That seemed, until they look about, and lo, the keels they see
Turned shoreward; yea, a sea of ships onsetting toward the shore.
Yea, and the helm is all ablaze, beams from the crest outpour, 270
The golden shield-boss wide about a world of flame doth shed.
E’en so, amid the clear of night, the comets bloody-red
Blush woeful bright; nor otherwise is Sirius’ burning wrought,
When drought and plagues for weary men the birth of him hath wrought,
And that unhappy light of his hath saddened all the heaven.
But nought from Turnus’ hardy heart was high hope ever driven
To take the strand of them and thrust those comers from the shore:
Eager he chid, hot-heart, with words men’s courage he upbore:
“Lo, now your prayers have come about, that hand meet hand in strife,
And Mars is in the brave man’s hand: let each one’s home and wife
Be in his heart! Call ye to mind those mighty histories, 281
The praises of our father-folk! Come, meet them in the seas,
Amid their tangle, while their feet yet totter on the earth:
For Fortune helpeth them that dare.”
So saying, he turneth in his mind with whom on these to fall,
And unto whom to leave meanwhile the leaguering of the wall.
Meanwhile Æneas from his ships high-built his folk doth speed
Ashore by bridges: many men no less the back-draught heed
Of the spent seas, and, trusting shoals, they make the downward leap;
And others slide adown the oars. Tarchon the shore doth sweep, 290
Espying where the waves break not, nor back the sea doth roar,
But where the sea-flood harmlessly with full tide swims ashore,
And thither straight he lays his keels, and prays unto his folk:
“O chosen, on the stark oars lay! now up unto the stroke;
Bear on the ships, and with your beaks cleave ye this foeman’s earth;
And let the very keels themselves there furrow them their berth.
On such a haven nought I heed, though ship and all we break,
If once we gain the land.”
Therewith, as such a word he spake,
His fellows rise together hard on every shaven tree,
In mind to bear their ships befoamed up on the Latin lea, 300
Until their tynes are high and dry, and fast is every keel
Unhurt: save, Tarchon, thine alone, that winneth no such weal;
For on the shallows driven aground, on evil ridge unmeet,
She hangeth balanced a long while, and doth the waters beat;
Then, breaking, droppeth down her men amidmost of the waves,
Entangled in the wreck of oars, and floating thwarts and staves;
And in the back-draught of the seas their feet are caught withal.
No dull delay holds Turnus back; but fiercely doth he fall,
With all his host, on them of Troy, and meets them on the strand. 309
The war-horns sing. Æneas first breaks through the field-folk’s band,
— Fair omen of the fight — and lays the Latin folk alow.
Thero he slays, most huge of men, whose own heart bade him go
Against Æneas: through the links of brass the sword doth fare,
And through the kirtle’s scaly gold, and wastes the side laid bare.
Then Lichas smites he, ripped erewhile from out his mother dead,
And hallowed, Phoebus, unto thee, because his baby head
Had ‘scaped the steel: nor far from thence he casteth down to die
Hard Cisseus, Gyas huge, who there beat down his company
With might of clubs; nought then availed that Herculean gear,
Nor their stark hands, nor yet their sire Melampus, though he were 320
Alcides’ friend so long as he on earth wrought heavy toil.
Lo Pharo! while a deedless word he flingeth mid the broil,
The whirring of the javelin stays within his shouting mouth.
Thou, Cydon, following lucklessly thy new delight, the youth
Clytius, whose first of fallow down about his cheeks is spread
Art well-nigh felled by Dardan hand, and there hadst thou lain dead,
At peace from all the many loves wherein thy life would stray,
Had not thy brethren’s serried band now thrust across the way
E’en Phorcus’ seed: sevenfold of tale and sevenfold spears they wield:
But some thereof fly harmless back from helm-side and from shield, 330
The rest kind Venus turned aside, that grazing past they flew;
But therewithal Æneas spake unto Achates true:
“Reach me my shafts: not one in vain my right hand now shall speed
Against Rutulians, of all those that erst in Ilian mead
Stood in the bodies of the Greeks.”
Then caught he a great spear
And cast it, and it flew its ways the brazen shield to shear
Of Mæon, breaking through his mail, breaking his breast withal:
Alcanor is at hand therewith, to catch his brother’s fall
With his right hand; but through his arm the spear without a stay
Flew hurrying on, and held no less its straight and bloody way, 340
And by the shoulder-nerves the hand hung down all dead and vain.
Then Numitor, his brother’s spear caught from his brother slain,
Falls on Æneas; yet to smite the mighty one in face
No hap he had, but did the thigh of great Achates graze.
Clausus of Cures, trusting well in his young body’s might,
Now cometh, and with stiff-wrought spear from far doth Dryops smite
Beneath the chin; home went its weight, and midst his shouting’s birth
From rent throat snatched both voice and life, and prone he smote the ear
And from his mouth abundantly shed forth the flood of gore.
Three Thracians also, men whose stem from Boreas came of yore, 350
Three whom their father Idas sent, and Ismara their land,
In various wise he fells. And now Halesus comes to hand,
And his Aruncans: Neptune’s seed now cometh thrusting in,
Messapus, excellent of horse. Hard strife the field to win!
On this side and on that they play about Ausonia’s door.
As whiles within the mighty heaven the winds are making war,
And equal heart they have thereto, and equal might they wield:
Yields none to none, nor yields the rack, nor aught the waters yield;
Long hangs the battle; locked they stand, all things are striving then:
Not otherwise the Trojan host and host of Latin men 360
Meet foot to foot, and man to man, close pressing in the fray.
But in another place, where erst the torrent in its way
Had driven the rolling rocks along and torn trees of the banks,
Did Pallas see the Arcadian folk, unused to fight in ranks
Of footmen, turn their backs before the Latins in the chase,
Since they forsooth had left their steeds for roughness of the place:
Wherefore he did the only deed that failing Fortune would,
Striving with prayers and bitter words to make their valour good:
“Where flee ye, fellows? Ah, I pray, by deeds that once were bold,
By name of King Evander dear, by glorious wars of old, 370
By my own hope of praise that springs to mate my father’s praise,
Trust not your feet! with point and edge ye needs must cleave your ways
Amidst the foe. Where yon array of men doth thickest wend,
Thither our holy fatherland doth you and Pallas send:
No Gods weigh on us; mortal foes meet mortal men today;
As many hands we have to use, as many lives to pay.
Lo, how the ocean shuts us in with yonder watery wall!
Earth fails for flight — what! seaward then, or Troyward shall we fall?”
Thus said, forthwith he breaketh in amid the foeman’s press,
Whom Lagus met the first of all, by Fate’s unrighteousness 380
Drawn thitherward: him, while a stone huge weighted he upheaves,
He pierceth with a whirling shaft just where the backbone cleaves
The ribs atwain, and back again he wrencheth forth the spear
Set mid the bones: nor him the more did Hisbo take unware,
Though that he hoped; for Pallas next withstood him, rushing on
All heedless-wild at that ill death his fellow fair had won,
And buried all his sword deep down amid his wind-swelled lung.
Then Sthenelus he meets, and one from ancient Rhoetus sprung,
Anchemolus, who dared defile his own stepmother’s bed.
Ye also on Rutulian lea twin Daucus’ sons lay dead, 390
Larides, Thymber; so alike, O children, that by nought
Your parents knew you each from each, and sweet the error thought.
But now to each did Pallas give a cruel marking-sign;
For, Thymber, the Evandrian sword smote off that head of thine:
And thy lopped right, Larides, seeks for that which was its lord,
The half-dead fingers quiver still and grip unto the sword.
But now the Arcadians cheered by words, beholding his great deed,
The mingled shame and sorrow arm and ‘gainst the foeman lead.
Then Pallas thrusteth Rhoeteus through a-flitting by in wain;
And so much space, so much delay, thereby did Ilus gain, 400
For ’twas at Ilus from afar that he his spear had cast
But Rhoeteus met it on the road fleeing from you full fast,
Best brethren, Teuthras, Tyres there: down from the car rolled he,
And with the half-dead heel of him beat the Rutulian lea.
As when amidst the summer-tide he gains the wished-for breeze,
The shepherd sets the sparkled flame amid the thicket trees,
The wood’s heart catches suddenly, the flames spread into one,
And fearful o’er the meadows wide doth Vulcan’s army run,
While o’er the flames the victor sits and on their joy looks down.
No less the valour of thy folk unto a head was grown 410
To help thee, Pallas: but behold, Halesus, fierce in field,
Turns on the foe, and gathers him ‘neath cover of his shield.
Ladon, Pheres, Demodocus, all these he slaughtered there;
With gleaming sword he lopped the hand Strymonius did uprear
Against his throat: in Thoas’ face withal a stone he sent,
And drave apart the riven bones with blood and brains all blent
Halesus’ sire, the wise of Fate, in woods had hidden him;
But when that elder’s whitening eyes at last in death did swim,
Fate took Halesus, hallowing him to King Evander’s blade:
For Pallas aimeth at him now, when such wise he had prayed: 420
“O Father Tiber, grant this spear, that herewithal I shake,
Through hard Halesus’ breast forthwith a happy way may take;
So shall thine oak-tree have the arms, the warrior’s battle-spoil.”
The God heard: while Halesus shields Imaon in the broil,
To that Arcadian shaft he gives his luckless body bared.
But nought would Lausus, lord of war, let all his host be scared,
E’en at the death of such a man: first Abas doth he slay,
Who faces him, the very knot and holdfast of the play.
Then fall Arcadia’s sons to field; felled is Etruria’s host,
And ye, O Teucrian bodies, erst by Grecian death unlost. 430
Then meet the hosts with lords well-matched and equal battle-might;
The outskirts of the battle close, nor ‘mid the press of fight
May hand or spear move: busy now is Pallas on this side,
Lausus on that; nor is the space between their ages wide,
Those noble bodies: and both they were clean forbid of Fate
Return unto their lands: but he who rules Olympus great
Would nowise suffer them to meet themselves to end the play,
The doom of each from mightier foe abideth each today.
But Turnus’ sister warneth him to succour Lausus’ war,
The gracious Goddess: straight he cleaves the battle in his car, 440
And when he sees his folk, cries out: “’Tis time to leave the fight!
Lone against Pallas do I fare, Pallas is mine of right;
I would his sire himself were here to look upon the field.”
He spake, and from the space forbid his fellow-folk did yield,
But when the Rutuli were gone, at such a word of pride
Amazed, the youth on Turnus stares, and lets his gaze go wide
