1. Homer, Iliad, 24.452-24.459 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 24.452. /hewing therefor beams of fir —and they had roofed it over with downy thatch, gathered from the meadows; and round it they reared for him, their king, a great court with thick-set pales; and the door thereof was held by one single bar of fir that 24.453. /hewing therefor beams of fir —and they had roofed it over with downy thatch, gathered from the meadows; and round it they reared for him, their king, a great court with thick-set pales; and the door thereof was held by one single bar of fir that 24.454. /hewing therefor beams of fir —and they had roofed it over with downy thatch, gathered from the meadows; and round it they reared for him, their king, a great court with thick-set pales; and the door thereof was held by one single bar of fir that 24.455. /three Achaeans were wont to drive home, and three to draw back the great bolt of the door (three of the rest, but Achilles would drive it home even of himself)—then verily the helper Hermes opened the door for the old man, and brought in the glorious gifts for the swift-footed son of Peleus; and from the chariot he stepped down to the ground and spake, saying: 24.456. /three Achaeans were wont to drive home, and three to draw back the great bolt of the door (three of the rest, but Achilles would drive it home even of himself)—then verily the helper Hermes opened the door for the old man, and brought in the glorious gifts for the swift-footed son of Peleus; and from the chariot he stepped down to the ground and spake, saying: 24.457. /three Achaeans were wont to drive home, and three to draw back the great bolt of the door (three of the rest, but Achilles would drive it home even of himself)—then verily the helper Hermes opened the door for the old man, and brought in the glorious gifts for the swift-footed son of Peleus; and from the chariot he stepped down to the ground and spake, saying: 24.458. /three Achaeans were wont to drive home, and three to draw back the great bolt of the door (three of the rest, but Achilles would drive it home even of himself)—then verily the helper Hermes opened the door for the old man, and brought in the glorious gifts for the swift-footed son of Peleus; and from the chariot he stepped down to the ground and spake, saying: 24.459. /three Achaeans were wont to drive home, and three to draw back the great bolt of the door (three of the rest, but Achilles would drive it home even of himself)—then verily the helper Hermes opened the door for the old man, and brought in the glorious gifts for the swift-footed son of Peleus; and from the chariot he stepped down to the ground and spake, saying: |
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3. Vergil, Aeneis, 1.242-1.249, 1.602, 3.4-3.5, 3.294-3.505 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.242. Aeneas meanwhile climbed the cliffs, and searched 1.243. the wide sea-prospect; haply Antheus there 1.244. torm-buffeted, might sail within his ken 1.245. with biremes, and his Phrygian mariners 1.246. or Capys or Caicus armor-clad 1.247. upon a towering deck. No ship is seen; 1.248. but while he looks, three stags along the shore 1.249. come straying by, and close behind them comes 1.602. leading abroad their nation's youthful brood; 3.4. in smouldering ash lay level with the ground 3.5. to wandering exile then and regions wild 3.294. or ken our way. Three days of blinding dark 3.295. three nights without a star, we roved the seas; 3.296. The fourth, land seemed to rise. Far distant hills 3.297. and rolling smoke we saw. Down came our sails 3.298. out flew the oars, and with prompt stroke the crews 3.299. wept the dark waves and tossed the crested foam. 3.300. From such sea-peril safe, I made the shores 3.301. of Strophades,—a name the Grecians gave 3.302. to islands in the broad Ionic main, — 3.303. the Strophades, where dread Celaeno bides 3.304. with other Harpies, who had quit the halls 3.305. of stricken Phineus, and for very fear 3.306. fled from the routed feast; no prodigy 3.307. more vile than these, nor plague more pitiless 3.308. ere rose by wrath divine from Stygian wave; 3.309. birds seem they, but with face like woman-kind; 3.310. foul-flowing bellies, hands with crooked claws 3.311. and ghastly lips they have, with hunger pale. 3.312. Scarce had we made the haven, when, behold! 3.313. Fair herds of cattle roaming a wide plain 3.314. and horned goats, untended, feeding free 3.315. in pastures green, surprised our happy eyes. 3.316. with eager blades we ran to take and slay 3.317. asking of every god, and chicfly Jove 3.318. to share the welcome prize: we ranged a feast 3.319. with turf-built couches and a banquet-board 3.320. along the curving strand. But in a trice 3.321. down from the high hills swooping horribly 3.322. the Harpies loudly shrieking, flapped their wings 3.323. natched at our meats, and with infectious touch 3.324. polluted all; infernal was their cry 3.325. the stench most vile. Once more in covert far 3.326. beneath a caverned rock, and close concealed 3.327. with trees and branching shade, we raised aloft 3.328. our tables, altars, and rekindled fires. 3.329. Once more from haunts unknown the clamorous flock 3.330. from every quarter flew, and seized its prey 3.331. with taloned feet and carrion lip most foul. 3.332. I called my mates to arms and opened war 3.333. on that accursed brood. My band obeyed; 3.334. and, hiding in deep grass their swords and shields 3.335. in ambush lay. But presently the foe 3.336. wept o'er the winding shore with loud alarm : 3.337. then from a sentry-crag, Misenus blew 3.338. a signal on his hollow horn. My men 3.339. flew to the combat strange, and fain would wound 3.340. with martial steel those foul birds of the sea; 3.341. but on their sides no wounding blade could fall 3.342. nor any plume be marred. In swiftest flight 3.343. to starry skies they soared, and left on earth 3.344. their half-gnawed, stolen feast, and footprints foul. 3.345. Celaeno only on a beetling crag 3.346. took lofty perch, and, prophetess of ill 3.347. hrieked malediction from her vulture breast: 3.348. “Because of slaughtered kine and ravished herd 3.349. ons of Laomedon, have ye made war? 3.350. And will ye from their rightful kingdom drive 3.351. the guiltless Harpies? Hear, O, hear my word 3.352. (Long in your bosoms may it rankle sore!) 3.353. which Jove omnipotent to Phoebus gave 3.354. Phoebus to me: a word of doom, which I 3.355. the Furies' elder sister, here unfold: 3.356. ‘To Italy ye fare. The willing winds 3.357. your call have heard; and ye shall have your prayer 3.358. in some Italian haven safely moored. 3.359. But never shall ye rear the circling walls 3.360. of your own city, till for this our blood 3.361. by you unjustly spilt, your famished jaws 3.363. She spoke: her pinions bore her to the grove 3.364. and she was seen no more. But all my band 3.365. huddered with shock of fear in each cold vein; 3.366. their drooping spirits trusted swords no more 3.367. but turned to prayers and offerings, asking grace 3.368. carce knowing if those creatures were divine 3.369. or but vast birds, ill-omened and unclean. 3.370. Father Anchises to the gods in heaven 3.371. uplifted suppliant hands, and on that shore 3.372. due ritual made, crying aloud; “Ye gods 3.373. avert this curse, this evil turn away! 3.374. Smile, Heaven, upon your faithful votaries.” 3.375. Then bade he launch away, the chain undo 3.376. et every cable free and spread all sail. 3.377. O'er the white waves we flew, and took our way 3.378. where'er the helmsman or the winds could guide. 3.379. Now forest-clad Zacynthus met our gaze 3.380. engirdled by the waves; Dulichium 3.381. ame, and Neritos, a rocky steep 3.382. uprose. We passed the cliffs of Ithaca 3.383. that called Laertes king, and flung our curse 3.384. on fierce Ulysses' hearth and native land. 3.385. nigh hoar Leucate's clouded crest we drew 3.386. where Phoebus' temple, feared by mariners 3.387. loomed o'er us; thitherward we steered and reached 3.388. the little port and town. Our weary fleet 3.390. So, safe at land, our hopeless peril past 3.391. we offered thanks to Jove, and kindled high 3.392. his altars with our feast and sacrifice; 3.393. then, gathering on Actium 's holy shore 3.394. made fair solemnities of pomp and game. 3.395. My youth, anointing their smooth, naked limbs 3.396. wrestled our wonted way. For glad were we 3.397. who past so many isles of Greece had sped 3.398. and 'scaped our circling foes. Now had the sun 3.399. rolled through the year's full circle, and the waves 3.400. were rough with icy winter's northern gales. 3.401. I hung for trophy on that temple door 3.402. a swelling shield of brass (which once was worn 3.403. by mighty Abas) graven with this line: 3.404. SPOIL OF AENEAS FROM TRIUMPHANT FOES. 3.405. Then from that haven I command them forth; 3.406. my good crews take the thwarts, smiting the sea 3.407. with rival strokes, and skim the level main. 3.408. Soon sank Phaeacia's wind-swept citadels 3.409. out of our view; we skirted the bold shores 3.410. of proud Epirus, in Chaonian land 3.412. Here wondrous tidings met us, that the son 3.413. of Priam, Helenus, held kingly sway 3.414. o'er many Argive cities, having wed 3.415. the Queen of Pyrrhus, great Achilles' son 3.416. and gained his throne; and that Andromache 3.417. once more was wife unto a kindred lord. 3.418. Amazement held me; all my bosom burned 3.419. to see the hero's face and hear this tale 3.420. of strange vicissitude. So up I climbed 3.421. leaving the haven, fleet, and friendly shore. 3.422. That self-same hour outside the city walls 3.423. within a grove where flowed the mimic stream 3.424. of a new Simois, Andromache 3.425. with offerings to the dead, and gifts of woe 3.426. poured forth libation, and invoked the shade 3.427. of Hector, at a tomb which her fond grief 3.428. had consecrated to perpetual tears 3.429. though void; a mound of fair green turf it stood 3.430. and near it rose twin altars to his name. 3.431. She saw me drawing near; our Trojan helms 3.432. met her bewildered eyes, and, terror-struck 3.433. at the portentous sight, she swooning fell 3.434. and lay cold, rigid, lifeless, till at last 3.435. carce finding voice, her lips addressed me thus : 3.436. “Have I true vision? Bringest thou the word 3.437. of truth, O goddess-born? Art still in flesh? 3.438. Or if sweet light be fled, my Hector, where?” 3.439. With flood of tears she spoke, and all the grove 3.440. reechoed to her cry. Scarce could I frame 3.441. brief answer to her passion, but replied 3.442. with broken voice and accents faltering: 3.443. “I live, 't is true. I lengthen out my days 3.444. through many a desperate strait. But O, believe 3.445. that what thine eyes behold is vision true. 3.446. Alas! what lot is thine, that wert unthroned 3.447. from such a husband's side? What after-fate 3.448. could give thee honor due? Andromache 3.450. With drooping brows and lowly voice she cried : 3.451. “O, happy only was that virgin blest 3.452. daughter of Priam, summoned forth to die 3.453. in sight of Ilium, on a foeman's tomb! 3.454. No casting of the lot her doom decreed 3.455. nor came she to her conqueror's couch a slave. 3.456. Myself from burning Ilium carried far 3.457. o'er seas and seas, endured the swollen pride 3.458. of that young scion of Achilles' race 3.459. and bore him as his slave a son. When he 3.460. ued for Hermione, of Leda's line 3.461. and nuptial-bond with Lacedaemon's Iords 3.462. I, the slave-wife, to Helenus was given 3.463. and slave was wed with slave. But afterward 3.464. Orestes, crazed by loss of her he loved 3.465. and ever fury-driven from crime to crime 3.466. crept upon Pyrrhus in a careless hour 3.467. and murdered him upon his own hearth-stone. 3.468. Part of the realm of Neoptolemus 3.469. fell thus to Helenus, who called his lands 3.470. Chaonian, and in Trojan Chaon's name 3.471. his kingdom is Chaonia. Yonder height 3.472. is Pergamus, our Ilian citadel. 3.473. What power divine did waft thee to our shore 3.474. not knowing whither? Tell me of the boy 3.475. Ascanius! Still breathes he earthly air? 3.476. In Troy she bore him—is he mourning still 3.477. that mother ravished from his childhood's eyes? 3.478. what ancient valor stirs the manly soul 3.479. of thine own son, of Hector's sister's child?” 3.480. Thus poured she forth full many a doleful word 3.481. with unavailing tears. But as she ceased 3.482. out of the city gates appeared the son 3.483. of Priam, Helenus, with princely train. 3.484. He welcomed us as kin, and glad at heart 3.485. gave guidance to his house, though oft his words 3.486. fell faltering and few, with many a tear. 3.487. Soon to a humbler Troy I lift my eyes 3.488. and of a mightier Pergamus discern 3.489. the towering semblance; there a scanty stream 3.490. runs on in Xanthus ' name, and my glad arms 3.491. the pillars of a Scaean gate embrace. 3.492. My Teucrian mariners with welcome free 3.493. enjoyed the friendly town; his ample halls 3.494. our royal host threw wide; full wine-cups flowed 3.495. within the palace; golden feast was spread 3.496. and many a goblet quaffed. Day followed day 3.497. while favoring breezes beckoned us to sea 3.498. and swelled the waiting canvas as they blew. 3.499. Then to the prophet-priest I made this prayer: 3.500. “offspring of Troy, interpreter of Heaven! 3.501. Who knowest Phoebus' power, and readest well 3.502. the tripod, stars, and vocal laurel leaves 3.503. to Phoebus dear, who know'st of every bird 3.504. the ominous swift wing or boding song 3.505. o, speak! For all my course good omens showed |
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