1. Hesiod, Theogony, 825-827, 878-879, 824 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 824. Whether descending when the day is done |
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2. Homer, Iliad, 1.194, 9.335-9.345, 24.1-24.12 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 1.194. /and break up the assembly, and slay the son of Atreus, or stay his anger and curb his spirit. While he pondered this in mind and heart, and was drawing from its sheath his great sword, Athene came from heaven. The white-armed goddess Hera had sent her forth 9.335. /and for them they abide untouched; but from me alone of the Achaeans hath he taken and keepeth my wife, the darling of my heart. Let him lie by her side and take his joy. But why must the Argives wage war against the Trojans? Why hath he gathered and led hither his host, this son of Atreus? Was it not for fair-haired Helen's sake? 9.336. /and for them they abide untouched; but from me alone of the Achaeans hath he taken and keepeth my wife, the darling of my heart. Let him lie by her side and take his joy. But why must the Argives wage war against the Trojans? Why hath he gathered and led hither his host, this son of Atreus? Was it not for fair-haired Helen's sake? 9.337. /and for them they abide untouched; but from me alone of the Achaeans hath he taken and keepeth my wife, the darling of my heart. Let him lie by her side and take his joy. But why must the Argives wage war against the Trojans? Why hath he gathered and led hither his host, this son of Atreus? Was it not for fair-haired Helen's sake? 9.338. /and for them they abide untouched; but from me alone of the Achaeans hath he taken and keepeth my wife, the darling of my heart. Let him lie by her side and take his joy. But why must the Argives wage war against the Trojans? Why hath he gathered and led hither his host, this son of Atreus? Was it not for fair-haired Helen's sake? 9.339. /and for them they abide untouched; but from me alone of the Achaeans hath he taken and keepeth my wife, the darling of my heart. Let him lie by her side and take his joy. But why must the Argives wage war against the Trojans? Why hath he gathered and led hither his host, this son of Atreus? Was it not for fair-haired Helen's sake? 9.340. /Do they then alone of mortal men love their wives, these sons of Atreus? Nay, for whoso is a true man and sound of mind, loveth his own and cherisheth her, even as I too loved her with all my heart, though she was but the captive of my spear. But now, seeing he hath taken from my arms my prize, and hath deceived me 9.341. /Do they then alone of mortal men love their wives, these sons of Atreus? Nay, for whoso is a true man and sound of mind, loveth his own and cherisheth her, even as I too loved her with all my heart, though she was but the captive of my spear. But now, seeing he hath taken from my arms my prize, and hath deceived me 9.342. /Do they then alone of mortal men love their wives, these sons of Atreus? Nay, for whoso is a true man and sound of mind, loveth his own and cherisheth her, even as I too loved her with all my heart, though she was but the captive of my spear. But now, seeing he hath taken from my arms my prize, and hath deceived me 9.343. /Do they then alone of mortal men love their wives, these sons of Atreus? Nay, for whoso is a true man and sound of mind, loveth his own and cherisheth her, even as I too loved her with all my heart, though she was but the captive of my spear. But now, seeing he hath taken from my arms my prize, and hath deceived me 9.344. /Do they then alone of mortal men love their wives, these sons of Atreus? Nay, for whoso is a true man and sound of mind, loveth his own and cherisheth her, even as I too loved her with all my heart, though she was but the captive of my spear. But now, seeing he hath taken from my arms my prize, and hath deceived me 9.345. /let him not tempt me that know him well; he shall not persuade me. Nay, Odysseus, together with thee and the other princes let him take thought to ward from the ships consuming fire. Verily full much hath he wrought without mine aid; lo, he hath builded a wall and digged a ditch hard by 24.1. /Then was the gathering broken up, and the folk scattered, each man to go to his own ship. The rest bethought them of supper and of sweet sleep, to take their fill thereof; but Achilles wept, ever remembering his dear comrade, neither might sleep 24.2. /Then was the gathering broken up, and the folk scattered, each man to go to his own ship. The rest bethought them of supper and of sweet sleep, to take their fill thereof; but Achilles wept, ever remembering his dear comrade, neither might sleep 24.3. /Then was the gathering broken up, and the folk scattered, each man to go to his own ship. The rest bethought them of supper and of sweet sleep, to take their fill thereof; but Achilles wept, ever remembering his dear comrade, neither might sleep 24.4. /Then was the gathering broken up, and the folk scattered, each man to go to his own ship. The rest bethought them of supper and of sweet sleep, to take their fill thereof; but Achilles wept, ever remembering his dear comrade, neither might sleep 24.5. /Then was the gathering broken up, and the folk scattered, each man to go to his own ship. The rest bethought them of supper and of sweet sleep, to take their fill thereof; but Achilles wept, ever remembering his dear comrade, neither might sleep 24.5. /that mastereth all, lay hold of him, but he turned him ever to this side or to that, yearning for the man-hood and valorous might of Patroclus, thinking on all he had wrought with him and all the woes he had borne, passing though wars of men and the grievous waves. Thinking thereon he would shed big tears 24.6. /that mastereth all, lay hold of him, but he turned him ever to this side or to that, yearning for the man-hood and valorous might of Patroclus, thinking on all he had wrought with him and all the woes he had borne, passing though wars of men and the grievous waves. Thinking thereon he would shed big tears 24.7. /that mastereth all, lay hold of him, but he turned him ever to this side or to that, yearning for the man-hood and valorous might of Patroclus, thinking on all he had wrought with him and all the woes he had borne, passing though wars of men and the grievous waves. Thinking thereon he would shed big tears 24.8. /that mastereth all, lay hold of him, but he turned him ever to this side or to that, yearning for the man-hood and valorous might of Patroclus, thinking on all he had wrought with him and all the woes he had borne, passing though wars of men and the grievous waves. Thinking thereon he would shed big tears 24.9. /that mastereth all, lay hold of him, but he turned him ever to this side or to that, yearning for the man-hood and valorous might of Patroclus, thinking on all he had wrought with him and all the woes he had borne, passing though wars of men and the grievous waves. Thinking thereon he would shed big tears 24.10. /lying now upon his side, now upon his back, and now upon his face; and then again he would rise upon his feet and roam distraught along the shore of the sea. Neither would he fail to mark the Dawn, as she shone over the sea and the sea-beaches, but would yoke beneath the car his swift horses 24.11. /lying now upon his side, now upon his back, and now upon his face; and then again he would rise upon his feet and roam distraught along the shore of the sea. Neither would he fail to mark the Dawn, as she shone over the sea and the sea-beaches, but would yoke beneath the car his swift horses 24.12. /lying now upon his side, now upon his back, and now upon his face; and then again he would rise upon his feet and roam distraught along the shore of the sea. Neither would he fail to mark the Dawn, as she shone over the sea and the sea-beaches, but would yoke beneath the car his swift horses |
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3. Homer, Odyssey, 1.1-1.9, 1.11-1.21, 1.84-1.87, 1.96-1.98, 5.29-5.49, 5.55-5.148, 5.297-5.312, 5.436-5.493, 8.83-8.88, 9.1-9.15, 10.1-10.55, 10.64, 10.69, 10.72-10.76, 10.80-10.574, 12.212 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
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4. Aeschylus, Persians, 186-188, 81-83, 185 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
| 185. κάλλει τʼ ἀμώμω, καὶ κασιγνήτα γένους | 185. flawless in beauty, sisters of the same family. As for the lands in which they dwelt, to one had been assigned by lot the land of placeName key= |
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5. Pindar, Pythian Odes, 1.71-1.80 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
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6. Thucydides, The History of The Peloponnesian War, 6.2.1 (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
| 6.2.1. It was settled originally as follows, and the peoples that occupied it are these. The earliest inhabitants spoken of in any part of the country are the Cyclopes and Laestrygones; but I cannot tell of what race they were, or whence they came or whither they went, and must leave my readers to what the poets have said of them and to what may be generally known concerning them. |
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7. Aristotle, Poetics, 1449b (4th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
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8. Cicero, Letters, 2.13.2 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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9. Cicero, Letters, 2.13.2 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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10. Cicero, Letters, 2.13.2 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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11. Cicero, Letters To His Friends, 5.12.4 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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12. Cicero, Epistulae Ad Quintum Fratrem, 2.13.2 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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13. Cicero, In Verrem, 2.2.158, 2.2.160 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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14. Anon., Rhetorica Ad Herennium, 4.25 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 4.25. With a reason, as follows: "They who think that the sins of youth deserve indulgence are deceived, because that time of life does not constitute a hindrance to sound studious activities. But they act wisely who chastise the young with especial severity in order to inculcate at the age most opportune for it the desire to attain those virtues by which they can order their whole lives." We should insert maxims only rarely, that we may be looked upon as pleading the case, not preaching morals. When so interspersed, they will add much distinction. Furthermore, the hearer, when he perceives that an indisputable principle drawn from practical life is being applied to a cause, must give it his tacit approval. Reasoning by Contraries is the figure which, of two opposite statements, uses one so as neatly and directly to prove the other, as follows: "Now how should you expect one who has ever been hostile to his own interests to be friendly to another's?" Again: "Now why should you think that one who is, as you have learned, a faithless friend, can be an honourable enemy? Or how should you expect a person whose arrogance has been insufferable in private life, to be agreeable and not forget himself when in power, and one who in ordinary conversation and among friends has never spoken the truth, to refrain from lies before public assemblies?" Again: "Do we fear to fight them on the level plain when we have hurled them down from the hills? When they outnumbered us, they were no match for us; now that we outnumber them, do we fear that they will conquer us? |
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15. Horace, Letters, 2.1.1-2.1.3 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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16. Lucretius Carus, On The Nature of Things, 2.1-2.6 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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17. Ovid, Tristia, 1.1.1-1.1.2, 3.1.71-3.1.72 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
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18. Seneca The Elder, Controversies, 8.2 (1st cent. BCE
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19. Vergil, Aeneis, 1.1-1.202, 1.204-1.756, 2.3-2.13, 2.44, 2.90, 2.97-2.99, 2.261, 2.682-2.686, 2.762, 3.163-3.171, 3.273, 3.294-3.295, 3.590-3.654, 4.90-4.128, 4.143-4.150, 4.238-4.246, 4.333-4.336, 4.376-4.380, 5.864, 6.528-6.529, 7.71-7.80, 8.26-8.35, 8.699, 9.605, 11.246-11.247 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.1. Arms and the man I sing, who first made way 1.2. predestined exile, from the Trojan shore 1.3. to Italy, the blest Lavinian strand. 1.4. Smitten of storms he was on land and sea 1.5. by violence of Heaven, to satisfy 1.6. tern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war 1.7. he suffered, seeking at the last to found 1.8. the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods 1.9. to safe abode in Latium ; whence arose 1.10. the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords 1.12. O Muse, the causes tell! What sacrilege 1.13. or vengeful sorrow, moved the heavenly Queen 1.14. to thrust on dangers dark and endless toil 1.15. a man whose largest honor in men's eyes 1.17. In ages gone an ancient city stood— 1.18. Carthage, a Tyrian seat, which from afar 1.19. made front on Italy and on the mouths 1.20. of Tiber 's stream; its wealth and revenues 1.21. were vast, and ruthless was its quest of war. 1.22. 'T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved 1.23. most cherished this,—not Samos ' self so dear. 1.24. Here were her arms, her chariot; even then 1.25. a throne of power o'er nations near and far 1.26. if Fate opposed not, 't was her darling hope 1.27. to 'stablish here; but anxiously she heard 1.28. that of the Trojan blood there was a breed 1.29. then rising, which upon the destined day 1.30. hould utterly o'erwhelm her Tyrian towers 1.31. a people of wide sway and conquest proud 1.32. hould compass Libya 's doom;—such was the web 1.33. the Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fear 1.34. of Saturn's daughter, who remembered well 1.35. what long and unavailing strife she waged 1.36. for her loved Greeks at Troy . Nor did she fail 1.37. to meditate th' occasions of her rage 1.38. and cherish deep within her bosom proud 1.39. its griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made; 1.40. her scorned and slighted beauty; a whole race 1.41. rebellious to her godhead; and Jove's smile 1.42. that beamed on eagle-ravished Ganymede. 1.43. With all these thoughts infuriate, her power 1.44. pursued with tempests o'er the boundless main 1.45. the Trojans, though by Grecian victor spared 1.46. and fierce Achilles; so she thrust them far 1.47. from Latium ; and they drifted, Heaven-impelled 1.48. year after year, o'er many an unknown sea— 1.50. Below th' horizon the Sicilian isle 1.51. just sank from view, as for the open sea 1.52. with heart of hope they sailed, and every ship 1.53. clove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves. 1.54. But Juno of her everlasting wound 1.55. knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain 1.56. thus darkly mused: “Must I, defeated, fail 1.57. of what I will, nor turn the Teucrian King 1.58. from Italy away? Can Fate oppose? 1.59. Had Pallas power to lay waste in flame 1.60. the Argive fleet and sink its mariners 1.61. revenging but the sacrilege obscene 1.62. by Ajax wrought, Oileus' desperate son? 1.63. She, from the clouds, herself Jove's lightning threw 1.64. cattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms. 1.65. Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire 1.66. in whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung. 1.67. But I, who move among the gods a queen 1.68. Jove's sister and his spouse, with one weak tribe 1.69. make war so long! Who now on Juno calls? 1.71. So, in her fevered heart complaining still 1.72. unto the storm-cloud land the goddess came 1.73. a region with wild whirlwinds in its womb 1.74. Aeolia named, where royal Aeolus 1.75. in a high-vaulted cavern keeps control 1.76. o'er warring winds and loud concourse of storms. 1.77. There closely pent in chains and bastions strong 1.78. they, scornful, make the vacant mountain roar 1.79. chafing against their bonds. But from a throne 1.80. of lofty crag, their king with sceptred hand 1.81. allays their fury and their rage confines. 1.82. Did he not so, our ocean, earth, and sky 1.83. were whirled before them through the vast ie. 1.84. But over-ruling Jove, of this in fear 1.85. hid them in dungeon dark: then o'er them piled 1.86. huge mountains, and ordained a lawful king 1.87. to hold them in firm sway, or know what time 1.88. with Jove's consent, to loose them o'er the world. 1.90. “Thou in whose hands the Father of all gods 1.91. and Sovereign of mankind confides the power 1.92. to calm the waters or with winds upturn 1.93. great Aeolus! a race with me at war 1.94. now sails the Tuscan main towards Italy 1.95. bringing their Ilium and its vanquished powers. 1.96. Uprouse thy gales. Strike that proud navy down! 1.97. Hurl far and wide, and strew the waves with dead! 1.98. Twice seven nymphs are mine, of rarest mould; 1.99. of whom Deiopea, the most fair 1.100. I give thee in true wedlock for thine own 1.101. to mate thy noble worth; she at thy side 1.102. hall pass long, happy years, and fruitful bring 1.104. Then Aeolus: “'T is thy sole task, O Queen 1.105. to weigh thy wish and will. My fealty 1.106. thy high behest obeys. This humble throne 1.107. is of thy gift. Thy smiles for me obtain 1.108. authority from Jove. Thy grace concedes 1.109. my station at your bright Olympian board 1.111. Replying thus, he smote with spear reversed 1.112. the hollow mountain's wall; then rush the winds 1.113. through that wide breach in long, embattled line 1.114. and sweep tumultuous from land to land: 1.115. with brooding pinions o'er the waters spread 1.116. east wind and south, and boisterous Afric gale 1.117. upturn the sea; vast billows shoreward roll; 1.118. the shout of mariners, the creak of cordage 1.119. follow the shock; low-hanging clouds conceal 1.120. from Trojan eyes all sight of heaven and day; 1.121. night o'er the ocean broods; from sky to sky 1.122. the thunders roll, the ceaseless lightnings glare; 1.123. and all things mean swift death for mortal man. 1.124. Straightway Aeneas, shuddering with amaze 1.125. groaned loud, upraised both holy hands to Heaven 1.126. and thus did plead: “O thrice and four times blest 1.127. ye whom your sires and whom the walls of Troy 1.128. looked on in your last hour! O bravest son 1.129. Greece ever bore, Tydides! O that I 1.130. had fallen on Ilian fields, and given this life 1.131. truck down by thy strong hand! where by the spear 1.132. of great Achilles, fiery Hector fell 1.133. and huge Sarpedon; where the Simois 1.134. in furious flood engulfed and whirled away 1.136. While thus he cried to Heaven, a shrieking blast 1.137. mote full upon the sail. Up surged the waves 1.138. to strike the very stars; in fragments flew 1.139. the shattered oars; the helpless vessel veered 1.140. and gave her broadside to the roaring flood 1.141. where watery mountains rose and burst and fell. 1.142. Now high in air she hangs, then yawning gulfs 1.143. lay bare the shoals and sands o'er which she drives. 1.144. Three ships a whirling south wind snatched and flung 1.145. on hidden rocks,—altars of sacrifice 1.146. Italians call them, which lie far from shore 1.147. a vast ridge in the sea; three ships beside 1.148. an east wind, blowing landward from the deep 1.149. drove on the shallows,—pitiable sight,— 1.150. and girdled them in walls of drifting sand. 1.151. That ship, which, with his friend Orontes, bore 1.152. the Lycian mariners, a great, plunging wave 1.153. truck straight astern, before Aeneas' eyes. 1.154. Forward the steersman rolled and o'er the side 1.155. fell headlong, while three times the circling flood 1.156. pun the light bark through swift engulfing seas. 1.157. Look, how the lonely swimmers breast the wave! 1.158. And on the waste of waters wide are seen 1.159. weapons of war, spars, planks, and treasures rare 1.160. once Ilium 's boast, all mingled with the storm. 1.161. Now o'er Achates and Ilioneus 1.162. now o'er the ship of Abas or Aletes 1.163. bursts the tempestuous shock; their loosened seams 1.165. Meanwhile how all his smitten ocean moaned 1.166. and how the tempest's turbulent assault 1.167. had vexed the stillness of his deepest cave 1.168. great Neptune knew; and with indigt mien 1.169. uplifted o'er the sea his sovereign brow. 1.170. He saw the Teucrian navy scattered far 1.171. along the waters; and Aeneas' men 1.172. o'erwhelmed in mingling shock of wave and sky. 1.173. Saturnian Juno's vengeful stratagem 1.174. her brother's royal glance failed not to see; 1.175. and loud to eastward and to westward calling 1.176. he voiced this word: “What pride of birth or power 1.177. is yours, ye winds, that, reckless of my will 1.178. audacious thus, ye ride through earth and heaven 1.179. and stir these mountain waves? Such rebels I— 1.180. nay, first I calm this tumult! But yourselves 1.181. by heavier chastisement shall expiate 1.182. hereafter your bold trespass. Haste away 1.183. and bear your king this word! Not unto him 1.184. dominion o'er the seas and trident dread 1.185. but unto me, Fate gives. Let him possess 1.186. wild mountain crags, thy favored haunt and home 1.187. O Eurus! In his barbarous mansion there 1.188. let Aeolus look proud, and play the king 1.190. He spoke, and swiftlier than his word subdued 1.191. the swelling of the floods; dispersed afar 1.192. th' assembled clouds, and brought back light to heaven. 1.193. Cymothoe then and Triton, with huge toil 1.194. thrust down the vessels from the sharp-edged reef; 1.195. while, with the trident, the great god's own hand 1.196. assists the task; then, from the sand-strewn shore 1.197. out-ebbing far, he calms the whole wide sea 1.198. and glides light-wheeled along the crested foam. 1.199. As when, with not unwonted tumult, roars 1.200. in some vast city a rebellious mob 1.201. and base-born passions in its bosom burn 1.202. till rocks and blazing torches fill the air 1.204. ome wise man comes, whose reverend looks attest 1.205. a life to duty given, swift silence falls; 1.206. all ears are turned attentive; and he sways 1.207. with clear and soothing speech the people's will. 1.208. So ceased the sea's uproar, when its grave Sire 1.209. looked o'er th' expanse, and, riding on in light 1.211. Aeneas' wave-worn crew now landward made 1.212. and took the nearest passage, whither lay 1.213. the coast of Libya . A haven there 1.214. walled in by bold sides of a rocky isle 1.215. offers a spacious and secure retreat 1.216. where every billow from the distant main 1.217. breaks, and in many a rippling curve retires. 1.218. Huge crags and two confronted promontories 1.219. frown heaven-high, beneath whose brows outspread 1.220. the silent, sheltered waters; on the heights 1.221. the bright and glimmering foliage seems to show 1.222. a woodland amphitheatre; and yet higher 1.223. rises a straight-stemmed grove of dense, dark shade. 1.224. Fronting on these a grotto may be seen 1.225. o'erhung by steep cliffs; from its inmost wall 1.226. clear springs gush out; and shelving seats it has 1.227. of unhewn stone, a place the wood-nymphs love. 1.228. In such a port, a weary ship rides free 1.230. Hither Aeneas of his scattered fleet 1.231. aving but seven, into harbor sailed; 1.232. with passionate longing for the touch of land 1.233. forth leap the Trojans to the welcome shore 1.234. and fling their dripping limbs along the ground. 1.235. Then good Achates smote a flinty stone 1.236. ecured a flashing spark, heaped on light leaves 1.237. and with dry branches nursed the mounting flame. 1.238. Then Ceres' gift from the corrupting sea 1.239. they bring away; and wearied utterly 1.240. ply Ceres' cunning on the rescued corn 1.241. and parch in flames, and mill 'twixt two smooth stones. 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 1.250. the whole herd, browsing through the lowland vale 1.251. in one long line. Aeneas stopped and seized 1.252. his bow and swift-winged arrows, which his friend 1.253. trusty Achates, close beside him bore. 1.254. His first shafts brought to earth the lordly heads 1.255. of the high-antlered chiefs; his next assailed 1.256. the general herd, and drove them one and all 1.257. in panic through the leafy wood, nor ceased 1.258. the victory of his bow, till on the ground 1.259. lay seven huge forms, one gift for every ship. 1.260. Then back to shore he sped, and to his friends 1.261. distributed the spoil, with that rare wine 1.262. which good Acestes while in Sicily 1.263. had stored in jars, and prince-like sent away 1.264. with his Ioved guest;—this too Aeneas gave; 1.266. “Companions mine, we have not failed to feel 1.267. calamity till now. O, ye have borne 1.268. far heavier sorrow: Jove will make an end 1.269. also of this. Ye sailed a course hard by 1.270. infuriate Scylla's howling cliffs and caves. 1.271. Ye knew the Cyclops' crags. Lift up your hearts! 1.272. No more complaint and fear! It well may be 1.273. ome happier hour will find this memory fair. 1.274. Through chance and change and hazard without end 1.275. our goal is Latium ; where our destinies 1.276. beckon to blest abodes, and have ordained 1.277. that Troy shall rise new-born! Have patience all! 1.279. Such was his word, but vexed with grief and care 1.280. feigned hopes upon his forehead firm he wore 1.281. and locked within his heart a hero's pain. 1.282. Now round the welcome trophies of his chase 1.283. they gather for a feast. Some flay the ribs 1.284. and bare the flesh below; some slice with knives 1.285. and on keen prongs the quivering strips impale 1.286. place cauldrons on the shore, and fan the fires. 1.287. Then, stretched at ease on couch of simple green 1.288. they rally their lost powers, and feast them well 1.289. on seasoned wine and succulent haunch of game. 1.290. But hunger banished and the banquet done 1.291. in long discourse of their lost mates they tell 1.292. 'twixt hopes and fears divided; for who knows 1.293. whether the lost ones live, or strive with death 1.294. or heed no more whatever voice may call? 1.295. Chiefly Aeneas now bewails his friends 1.296. Orontes brave and fallen Amycus 1.297. or mourns with grief untold the untimely doom 1.299. After these things were past, exalted Jove 1.300. from his ethereal sky surveying clear 1.301. the seas all winged with sails, lands widely spread 1.302. and nations populous from shore to shore 1.303. paused on the peak of heaven, and fixed his gaze 1.304. on Libya . But while he anxious mused 1.305. near him, her radiant eyes all dim with tears 1.306. nor smiling any more, Venus approached 1.307. and thus complained: “O thou who dost control 1.308. things human and divine by changeless laws 1.309. enthroned in awful thunder! What huge wrong 1.310. could my Aeneas and his Trojans few 1.311. achieve against thy power? For they have borne 1.312. unnumbered deaths, and, failing Italy 1.313. the gates of all the world against them close. 1.314. Hast thou not given us thy covet 1.315. that hence the Romans when the rolling years 1.316. have come full cycle, shall arise to power 1.317. from Troy 's regenerate seed, and rule supreme 1.318. the unresisted lords of land and sea? 1.319. O Sire, what swerves thy will? How oft have I 1.320. in Troy 's most lamentable wreck and woe 1.321. consoled my heart with this, and balanced oft 1.322. our destined good against our destined ill! 1.323. But the same stormful fortune still pursues 1.324. my band of heroes on their perilous way. 1.325. When shall these labors cease, O glorious King? 1.326. Antenor, though th' Achaeans pressed him sore 1.327. found his way forth, and entered unassailed 1.328. Illyria 's haven, and the guarded land 1.329. of the Liburni. Straight up stream he sailed 1.330. where like a swollen sea Timavus pours 1.331. a nine-fold flood from roaring mountain gorge 1.332. and whelms with voiceful wave the fields below. 1.333. He built Patavium there, and fixed abodes 1.334. for Troy 's far-exiled sons; he gave a name 1.335. to a new land and race; the Trojan arms 1.336. were hung on temple walls; and, to this day 1.337. lying in perfect peace, the hero sleeps. 1.338. But we of thine own seed, to whom thou dost 1.339. a station in the arch of heaven assign 1.340. behold our navy vilely wrecked, because 1.341. a single god is angry; we endure 1.342. this treachery and violence, whereby 1.343. wide seas divide us from th' Hesperian shore. 1.344. Is this what piety receives? Or thus 1.346. Smiling reply, the Sire of gods and men 1.347. with such a look as clears the skies of storm 1.348. chastely his daughter kissed, and thus spake on: 1.349. “Let Cytherea cast her fears away! 1.350. Irrevocably blest the fortunes be 1.351. of thee and thine. Nor shalt thou fail to see 1.352. that City, and the proud predestined wall 1.353. encompassing Lavinium . Thyself 1.354. hall starward to the heights of heaven bear 1.355. Aeneas the great-hearted. Nothing swerves 1.356. my will once uttered. Since such carking cares 1.357. consume thee, I this hour speak freely forth 1.358. and leaf by leaf the book of fate unfold. 1.359. Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war 1.360. and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall 1.361. and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond 1.362. about his gathered people. Summers three 1.363. hall Latium call him king; and three times pass 1.364. the winter o'er Rutulia's vanquished hills. 1.365. His heir, Ascanius, now Iulus called 1.366. (Ilus it was while Ilium 's kingdom stood) 1.367. full thirty months shall reign, then move the throne 1.368. from the Lavinian citadel, and build 1.370. Here three full centuries shall Hector's race 1.371. have kingly power; till a priestess queen 1.372. by Mars conceiving, her twin offspring bear; 1.373. then Romulus, wolf-nursed and proudly clad 1.374. in tawny wolf-skin mantle, shall receive 1.375. the sceptre of his race. He shall uprear 1.376. and on his Romans his own name bestow. 1.377. To these I give no bounded times or power 1.378. but empire without end. Yea, even my Queen 1.379. Juno, who now chastiseth land and sea 1.380. with her dread frown, will find a wiser way 1.381. and at my sovereign side protect and bless 1.382. the Romans, masters of the whole round world 1.383. who, clad in peaceful toga, judge mankind. 1.384. Such my decree! In lapse of seasons due 1.385. the heirs of Ilium 's kings shall bind in chains 1.386. Mycenae 's glory and Achilles' towers 1.387. and over prostrate Argos sit supreme. 1.388. of Trojan stock illustriously sprung 1.389. lo, Caesar comes! whose power the ocean bounds 1.390. whose fame, the skies. He shall receive the name 1.391. Iulus nobly bore, great Julius, he. 1.392. Him to the skies, in Orient trophies dress 1.393. thou shalt with smiles receive; and he, like us 1.394. hall hear at his own shrines the suppliant vow. 1.395. Then will the world grow mild; the battle-sound 1.396. will be forgot; for olden Honor then 1.397. with spotless Vesta, and the brothers twain 1.398. Remus and Romulus, at strife no more 1.399. will publish sacred laws. The dreadful gates 1.400. whence issueth war, shall with close-jointed steel 1.401. be barred impregnably; and prisoned there 1.402. the heaven-offending Fury, throned on swords 1.403. and fettered by a hundred brazen chains 1.405. These words he gave, and summoned Maia's son 1.406. the herald Mercury, who earthward flying 1.407. hould bid the Tyrian realms and new-built towers 1.408. welcome the Trojan waifs; lest Dido, blind 1.409. to Fate's decree, should thrust them from the land. 1.410. He takes his flight, with rhythmic stroke of wing 1.411. across th' abyss of air, and soon draws near 1.412. unto the Libyan mainland. He fulfils 1.413. his heavenly task; the Punic hearts of stone 1.414. grow soft beneath the effluence divine; 1.415. and, most of all, the Queen, with heart at ease 1.417. But good Aeneas, pondering all night long 1.418. his many cares, when first the cheerful dawn 1.419. upon him broke, resolved to take survey 1.420. of this strange country whither wind and wave 1.421. had driven him,—for desert land it seemed,— 1.422. to learn what tribes of man or beast possess 1.423. a place so wild, and careful tidings bring 1.424. back to his friends. His fleet of ships the while 1.425. where dense, dark groves o'er-arch a hollowed crag 1.426. he left encircled in far-branching shade. 1.427. Then with no followers save his trusty friend 1.428. Achates, he went forth upon his way 1.429. two broad-tipped javelins poising in his hand. 1.430. Deep to the midmost wood he went, and there 1.431. his Mother in his path uprose; she seemed 1.432. in garb and countece a maid, and bore 1.433. like Spartan maids, a weapon; in such guise 1.434. Harpalyce the Thracian urges on 1.435. her panting coursers and in wild career 1.436. outstrips impetuous Hebrus as it flows. 1.437. Over her lovely shoulders was a bow 1.438. lender and light, as fits a huntress fair; 1.439. her golden tresses without wimple moved 1.440. in every wind, and girded in a knot 1.441. her undulant vesture bared her marble knees. 1.442. She hailed them thus: “Ho, sirs, I pray you tell 1.443. if haply ye have noted, as ye came 1.444. one of my sisters in this wood astray? 1.445. She bore a quiver, and a lynx's hide 1.446. her spotted mantle was; perchance she roused 1.448. So Venus spoke, and Venus' son replied: 1.449. “No voice or vision of thy sister fair 1.450. has crossed my path, thou maid without a name! 1.451. Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould 1.452. nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess 1.453. art thou bright Phoebus' sister? Or some nymph 1.454. the daughter of a god? Whate'er thou art 1.455. thy favor we implore, and potent aid 1.456. in our vast toil. Instruct us of what skies 1.457. or what world's end, our storm-swept lives have found! 1.458. Strange are these lands and people where we rove 1.459. compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand 1.461. Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive 1.462. honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft 1.463. bear bow and quiver, and our ankles white 1.464. lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies 1.465. the Punic power, where Tyrian masters hold 1.466. Agenor's town; but on its borders dwell 1.467. the Libyans, by battles unsubdued. 1.468. Upon the throne is Dido, exiled there 1.469. from Tyre, to flee th' unnatural enmity 1.470. of her own brother. 'T was an ancient wrong; 1.471. too Iong the dark and tangled tale would be; 1.472. I trace the larger outline of her story: 1.473. Sichreus was her spouse, whose acres broad 1.474. no Tyrian lord could match, and he was-blessed 1.475. by his ill-fated lady's fondest love 1.476. whose father gave him her first virgin bloom 1.477. in youthful marriage. But the kingly power 1.478. among the Tyrians to her brother came 1.479. Pygmalion, none deeper dyed in crime 1.480. in all that land. Betwixt these twain there rose 1.481. a deadly hatred,—and the impious wretch 1.482. blinded by greed, and reckless utterly 1.483. of his fond sister's joy, did murder foul 1.484. upon defenceless and unarmed Sichaeus 1.485. and at the very altar hewed him down. 1.486. Long did he hide the deed, and guilefully 1.487. deceived with false hopes, and empty words 1.488. her grief and stricken love. But as she slept 1.489. her husband's tombless ghost before her came 1.490. with face all wondrous pale, and he laid bare 1.491. his heart with dagger pierced, disclosing so 1.492. the blood-stained altar and the infamy 1.493. that darkened now their house. His counsel was 1.494. to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land 1.495. and for her journey's aid, he whispered where 1.496. his buried treasure lay, a weight unknown 1.497. of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged 1.498. Dido, assembling her few trusted friends 1.499. prepared her flight. There rallied to her cause 1.500. all who did hate and scorn the tyrant king 1.501. or feared his cruelty. They seized his ships 1.502. which haply rode at anchor in the bay 1.503. and loaded them with gold; the hoarded wealth 1.504. of vile and covetous Pygmalion 1.505. they took to sea. A woman wrought this deed. 1.506. Then came they to these lands where now thine eyes 1.507. behold yon walls and yonder citadel 1.508. of newly rising Carthage . For a price 1.509. they measured round so much of Afric soil 1.510. as one bull's hide encircles, and the spot 1.511. received its name, the Byrsa. But, I pray 1.512. what men are ye? from what far land arrived 1.513. and whither going?” When she questioned thus 1.514. her son, with sighs that rose from his heart's depths 1.516. “Divine one, if I tell 1.517. my woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause 1.518. to heed the tale, first would the vesper star 1.519. th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day 1.520. in slumber lie. of ancient Troy are we— 1.521. if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved 1.522. from sea to sea, the hazard of the storm 1.523. cast us up hither on this Libyan coast. 1.524. I am Aeneas, faithful evermore 1.525. to Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear 1.526. my gods ancestral, which I snatched away 1.527. from peril of the foe. My fame is known 1.528. above the stars. I travel on in quest 1.529. of Italy, my true home-land, and I 1.530. from Jove himself may trace my birth divine. 1.531. With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main 1.532. I launched away. My mother from the skies 1.533. gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained. 1.534. Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive 1.535. the shock of wind and wave; and I myself 1.536. friendless, bereft, am wandering up and down 1.537. this Libyan wilderness! Behold me here 1.538. from Europe and from Asia exiled still!” 1.539. But Venus could not let him longer plain 1.541. “Whoe'er thou art 1.542. I deem that not unblest of heavenly powers 1.543. with vital breath still thine, thou comest hither 1.544. unto our Tyrian town. Go steadfast on 1.545. and to the royal threshold make thy way! 1.546. I bring thee tidings that thy comrades all 1.547. are safe at land; and all thy ships, conveyed 1.548. by favoring breezes, safe at anchor lie; 1.549. or else in vain my parents gave me skill 1.550. to read the skies. Look up at yonder swans! 1.551. A flock of twelve, whose gayly fluttering file 1.552. erst scattered by Jove's eagle swooping down 1.553. from his ethereal haunt, now form anew 1.554. their long-drawn line, and make a landing-place 1.555. or, hovering over, scan some chosen ground 1.556. or soaring high, with whir of happy wings 1.557. re-circle heaven in triumphant song: 1.558. likewise, I tell thee, thy Iost mariners 1.559. are landed, or fly landward at full sail. 1.561. She ceased and turned away. A roseate beam 1.562. from her bright shoulder glowed; th' ambrosial hair 1.563. breathed more than mortal sweetness, while her robes 1.564. fell rippling to her feet. Each step revealed 1.565. the veritable goddess. Now he knew 1.566. that vision was his mother, and his words 1.567. pursued the fading phantom as it fled: 1.568. “Why is thy son deluded o'er and o'er 1.569. with mocking dreams,—another cruel god? 1.570. Hast thou no hand-clasp true, nor interchange 1.571. of words unfeigned betwixt this heart and thine?” 1.572. Such word of blame he spoke, and took his way 1.573. toward the city's rampart. Venus then 1.574. o'erveiled them as they moved in darkened air,— 1.575. a liquid mantle of thick cloud divine,— 1.576. that viewless they might pass, nor would any 1.577. obstruct, delay, or question why they came. 1.578. To Paphos then she soared, her Ioved abode 1.579. where stands her temple, at whose hundred shrines 1.580. garlands of myrtle and fresh roses breathe 1.582. Meanwhile the wanderers swiftly journey on 1.583. along the clear-marked road, and soon they climb 1.584. the brow of a high hill, which close in view 1.585. o'er-towers the city's crown. The vast exploit 1.586. where lately rose but Afric cabins rude 1.587. Aeneas wondered at: the smooth, wide ways; 1.588. the bastioned gates; the uproar of the throng. 1.589. The Tyrians toil unwearied; some up-raise 1.590. a wall or citadel, from far below 1.591. lifting the ponderous stone; or with due care 1.592. choose where to build, and close the space around 1.593. with sacred furrow; in their gathering-place 1.594. the people for just governors, just laws 1.595. and for their reverend senate shout acclaim. 1.596. Some clear the harbor mouth; some deeply lay 1.597. the base of a great theatre, and carve out 1.598. proud columns from the mountain, to adorn 1.599. their rising stage with lofty ornament. 1.600. o busy bees above a field of flowers 1.601. in early summer amid sunbeams toil 1.602. leading abroad their nation's youthful brood; 1.603. or with the flowing honey storing close 1.604. the pliant cells, until they quite run o'er 1.605. with nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm 1.606. they take their little loads; or lined for war 1.607. rout the dull drones, and chase them from the hive; 1.608. brisk is the task, and all the honeyed air 1.609. breathes odors of wild thyme. “How blest of Heaven. 1.610. These men that see their promised ramparts rise!” 1.611. Aeneas sighed; and swift his glances moved 1.612. from tower to tower; then on his way he fared 1.613. veiled in the wonder-cloud, whence all unseen 1.614. of human eyes,—O strange the tale and true!— 1.616. Deep in the city's heart there was a grove 1.617. of beauteous shade, where once the Tyrians 1.618. cast here by stormful waves, delved out of earth 1.619. that portent which Queen Juno bade them find,— 1.620. the head of a proud horse,—that ages long 1.621. their boast might be wealth, luxury and war. 1.622. Upon this spot Sidonian Dido raised 1.623. a spacious fane to Juno, which became 1.624. plendid with gifts, and hallowed far and wide 1.625. for potency divine. Its beams were bronze 1.626. and on loud hinges swung the brazen doors. 1.627. A rare, new sight this sacred grove did show 1.628. which calmed Aeneas' fears, and made him bold 1.629. to hope for safety, and with lifted heart 1.630. from his low-fallen fortunes re-aspire. 1.631. For while he waits the advent of the Queen 1.632. he scans the mighty temple, and admires 1.633. the city's opulent pride, and all the skill 1.634. its rival craftsmen in their work approve. 1.635. Behold! he sees old Ilium 's well-fought fields 1.636. in sequent picture, and those famous wars 1.637. now told upon men's lips the whole world round. 1.638. There Atreus' sons, there kingly Priam moved 1.639. and fierce Pelides pitiless to both. 1.640. Aeneas paused, and, weeping, thus began: 1.641. “Alas, Achates, what far region now 1.642. what land in all the world knows not our pain? 1.648. So saying, he received into his heart 1.649. that visionary scene, profoundly sighed 1.650. and let his plenteous tears unheeded flow. 1.651. There he beheld the citadel of Troy 1.652. girt with embattled foes; here, Greeks in flight 1.653. ome Trojan onset 'scaped; there, Phrygian bands 1.654. before tall-plumed Achilles' chariot sped. 1.655. The snowy tents of Rhesus spread hard by 1.657. in night's first watch burst o'er them unawares 1.658. with bloody havoc and a host of deaths; 1.659. then drove his fiery coursers o'er the plain 1.660. before their thirst or hunger could be stayed 1.661. on Trojan corn or Xanthus ' cooling stream. 1.662. Here too was princely Troilus, despoiled 1.663. routed and weaponless, O wretched boy! 1.664. Ill-matched against Achilles! His wild steeds 1.665. bear him along, as from his chariot's rear 1.666. he falls far back, but clutches still the rein; 1.667. his hair and shoulders on the ground go trailing 1.668. and his down-pointing spear-head scrawls the dust. 1.669. Elsewhere, to Pallas' ever-hostile shrine 1.670. daughters of Ilium, with unsnooded hair 1.671. and lifting all in vain her hallowed pall 1.672. walked suppliant and sad, beating their breasts 1.673. with outspread palms. But her unswerving eyes 1.674. the goddess fixed on earth, and would not see. 1.675. Achilles round the Trojan rampart thrice 1.676. had dragged the fallen Hector, and for gold 1.677. was making traffic of the lifeless clay. 1.678. Aeneas groaned aloud, with bursting heart 1.679. to see the spoils, the car, the very corpse 1.680. of his lost friend,—while Priam for the dead 1.681. tretched forth in piteous prayer his helpless hands. 1.682. There too his own presentment he could see 1.683. urrounded by Greek kings; and there were shown 1.684. hordes from the East, and black-browed Memnon's arms; 1.685. her band of Amazons, with moon-shaped shields 1.686. Penthesilea led; her martial eye 1.687. flamed on from troop to troop; a belt of gold 1.688. beneath one bare, protruded breast she bound— 1.690. While on such spectacle Aeneas' eyes 1.691. looked wondering, while mute and motionless 1.692. he stood at gaze, Queen Dido to the shrine 1.693. in lovely majesty drew near; a throng 1.694. of youthful followers pressed round her way. 1.695. So by the margin of Eurotas wide 1.696. or o'er the Cynthian steep, Diana leads 1.697. her bright processional; hither and yon 1.698. are visionary legions numberless 1.699. of Oreads; the regt goddess bears 1.700. a quiver on her shoulders, and is seen 1.701. emerging tallest of her beauteous train; 1.702. while joy unutterable thrills the breast 1.703. of fond Latona: Dido not less fair 1.704. amid her subjects passed, and not less bright 1.705. her glow of gracious joy, while she approved 1.706. her future kingdom's pomp and vast emprise. 1.707. Then at the sacred portal and beneath 1.708. the temple's vaulted dome she took her place 1.709. encompassed by armed men, and lifted high 1.710. upon a throne; her statutes and decrees 1.711. the people heard, and took what lot or toil 1.712. her sentence, or impartial urn, assigned. 1.713. But, lo! Aeneas sees among the throng 1.714. Antheus, Sergestus, and Cloanthus bold 1.715. with other Teucrians, whom the black storm flung 1.716. far o'er the deep and drove on alien shores. 1.717. Struck dumb was he, and good Achates too 1.718. half gladness and half fear. Fain would they fly 1.719. to friendship's fond embrace; but knowing not 1.720. what might befall, their hearts felt doubt and care. 1.721. Therefore they kept the secret, and remained 1.722. forth-peering from the hollow veil of cloud 1.723. haply to learn what their friends' fate might be 1.724. or where the fleet was landed, or what aim 1.725. had brought them hither; for a chosen few 1.726. from every ship had come to sue for grace 1.729. and leave to speak, revered Ilioneus 1.730. with soul serene these lowly words essayed: 1.731. “O Queen, who hast authority of Jove 1.732. to found this rising city, and subdue 1.733. with righteous goverce its people proud 1.734. we wretched Trojans, blown from sea to sea 1.735. beseech thy mercy; keep the curse of fire 1.736. from our poor ships! We pray thee, do no wrong 1.737. unto a guiltless race. But heed our plea! 1.738. No Libyan hearth shall suffer by our sword 1.739. nor spoil and plunder to our ships be borne; 1.740. uch haughty violence fits not the souls 1.741. of vanquished men. We journey to a land 1.742. named, in Greek syllables, Hesperia : 1.743. a storied realm, made mighty by great wars 1.744. and wealth of fruitful land; in former days 1.745. Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said 1.746. have called it Italy, a chieftain's name 1.747. to a whole region given. Thitherward 1.748. our ships did fare; but with swift-rising flood 1.749. the stormful season of Orion's star 1.750. drove us on viewless shoals; and angry gales 1.751. dispersed us, smitten by the tumbling surge 1.752. among innavigable rocks. Behold 1.753. we few swam hither, waifs upon your shore! 1.754. What race of mortals this? What barbarous land 1.755. that with inhospitable laws ye thrust 1.756. a stranger from your coasts, and fly to arms 2.3. Father Aeneas with these words began :— 2.4. A grief unspeakable thy gracious word 2.5. o sovereign lady, bids my heart live o'er: 2.6. how Asia 's glory and afflicted throne 2.7. the Greek flung down; which woeful scene I saw 2.8. and bore great part in each event I tell. 2.9. But O! in telling, what Dolopian churl 2.10. or Myrmidon, or gory follower 2.11. of grim Ulysses could the tears restrain? 2.12. 'T is evening; lo! the dews of night begin 2.13. to fall from heaven, and yonder sinking stars 2.44. that horse which loomed so large. Thymoetes then 2.90. a mark for every eye, defenceless, dazed 2.97. Such groans and anguish turned all rage away 2.98. and stayed our lifted hands. We bade him tell 2.99. his birth, his errand, and from whence might be 2.261. inside your walls, nor anywise restore 2.682. th' exulting foe, the aged King did bind 2.683. his rusted armor to his trembling thews,— 2.684. all vainly,— and a useless blade of steel 2.685. he girded on; then charged, resolved to die 2.686. encircled by the foe. Within his walls 2.762. I stood there sole surviving; when, behold 3.163. nor towered Pergama; in lowly vales 3.164. their dwelling; hence the ancient worship given 3.165. to the Protectress of Mount Cybele 3.166. mother of Gods, what time in Ida's grove 3.167. the brazen Corybantic cymbals clang 3.168. or sacred silence guards her mystery 3.169. and lions yoked her royal chariot draw. 3.170. Up, then, and follow the behests divine! 3.171. Pour offering to the winds, and point your keels 3.273. gave heed to sad Cassandra's voice divine? 3.294. or ken our way. Three days of blinding dark 3.295. three nights without a star, we roved the seas; 3.590. But Scylla, prisoned in her eyeless cave 3.591. thrusts forth her face, and pulls upon the rocks 3.592. hip after ship; the parts that first be seen 3.593. are human; a fair-breasted virgin she 3.594. down to the womb; but all that lurks below 3.595. is a huge-membered fish, where strangely join 3.596. the flukes of dolphins and the paunch of wolves. 3.597. Better by far to round the distant goal 3.598. of the Trinacrian headlands, veering wide 3.599. from thy true course, than ever thou shouldst see 3.600. that shapeless Scylla in her vaulted cave 3.601. where grim rocks echo her dark sea-dogs' roar. 3.602. Yea, more, if aught of prescience be bestowed 3.603. on Helenus, if trusted prophet he 3.604. and Phoebus to his heart true voice have given 3.605. o goddess-born, one counsel chief of all 3.606. I tell thee oft, and urge it o'er and o'er. 3.607. To Juno's godhead lift thy Ioudest prayer; 3.608. to Juno chant a fervent votive song 3.609. and with obedient offering persuade 3.610. that potent Queen. So shalt thou, triumphing 3.611. to Italy be sped, and leave behind 3.612. Trinacria . When wafted to that shore 3.613. repair to Cumae 's hill, and to the Lake 3.614. Avernus with its whispering grove divine. 3.615. There shalt thou see a frenzied prophetess 3.616. who from beneath the hollow scarped crag 3.617. ings oracles, or characters on leaves 3.618. mysterious names. Whate'er the virgin writes 3.619. on leaves inscribing the portentous song 3.620. he sets in order, and conceals them well 3.621. in her deep cave, where they abide unchanged 3.622. in due array. Yet not a care has she 3.623. if with some swinging hinge a breeze sweeps in 3.624. to catch them as they whirl: if open door 3.625. disperse them flutterlig through the hollow rock 3.626. he will not link their shifted sense anew 3.627. nor re-invent her fragmentary song. 3.628. oft her uswered votaries depart 3.629. corning the Sibyl's shrine. But deem not thou 3.630. thy tarrying too Iong, whate'er thy stay. 3.631. Though thy companions chide, though winds of power 3.632. invite thy ship to sea, and well would speed 3.633. the swelling sail, yet to that Sibyl go. 3.634. Pray that her own lips may sing forth for thee 3.635. the oracles, uplifting her dread voice 3.636. in willing prophecy. Her rede shall tell 3.637. of Italy, its wars and tribes to be 3.638. and of what way each burden and each woe 3.639. may be escaped, or borne. Her favoring aid 3.640. will grant swift, happy voyages to thy prayer. 3.641. Such counsels Heaven to my lips allows. 3.642. arise, begone! and by thy glorious deeds 3.644. So spake the prophet with benigt voice. 3.645. Then gifts he bade be brought of heavy gold 3.646. and graven ivory, which to our ships 3.647. he bade us bear; each bark was Ioaded full 3.648. with messy silver and Dodona 's pride 3.649. of brazen cauldrons; a cuirass he gave 3.650. of linked gold enwrought and triple chain; 3.651. a noble helmet, too, with flaming crest 3.652. and lofty cone, th' accoutrement erewhile 3.653. of Neoptolemus. My father too 3.654. had fit gifts from the King; whose bounty then 4.90. with many a votive gift; or, peering deep 4.91. into the victims' cloven sides, she read 4.92. the fate-revealing tokens trembling there. 4.93. How blind the hearts of prophets be! Alas! 4.94. of what avail be temples and fond prayers 4.95. to change a frenzied mind? Devouring ever 4.96. love's fire burns inward to her bones; she feels 4.97. quick in her breast the viewless, voiceless wound. 4.98. Ill-fated Dido ranges up and down 4.99. the spaces of her city, desperate 4.100. her life one flame—like arrow-stricken doe 4.101. through Cretan forest rashly wandering 4.102. pierced by a far-off shepherd, who pursues 4.103. with shafts, and leaves behind his light-winged steed 4.104. not knowing; while she scours the dark ravines 4.105. of Dicte and its woodlands; at her heart 4.106. the mortal barb irrevocably clings. 4.107. around her city's battlements she guides 4.108. aeneas, to make show of Sidon 's gold 4.109. and what her realm can boast; full oft her voice 4.110. essays to speak and frembling dies away: 4.111. or, when the daylight fades, she spreads anew 4.112. a royal banquet, and once more will plead 4.113. mad that she is, to hear the Trojan sorrow; 4.114. and with oblivious ravishment once more 4.115. hangs on his lips who tells; or when her guests 4.116. are scattered, and the wan moon's fading horn 4.117. bedims its ray, while many a sinking star 4.118. invites to slumber, there she weeps alone 4.119. in the deserted hall, and casts her down 4.120. on the cold couch he pressed. Her love from far 4.121. beholds her vanished hero and receives 4.122. his voice upon her ears; or to her breast 4.123. moved by a father's image in his child 4.124. he clasps Ascanius, seeking to deceive 4.125. her unblest passion so. Her enterprise 4.126. of tower and rampart stops: her martial host 4.127. no Ionger she reviews, nor fashions now 4.128. defensive haven and defiant wall; 4.143. Why further go? Prithee, what useful end 4.144. has our long war? Why not from this day forth 4.145. perpetual peace and nuptial amity? 4.146. Hast thou not worked thy will? Behold and see 4.147. how Iove-sick Dido burns, and all her flesh 4.148. 'The madness feels! So let our common grace 4.149. mile on a mingled people! Let her serve 4.150. a Phrygian husband, while thy hands receive 4.238. the flash of lightnings on the conscious air 4.239. were torches to the bridal; from the hills 4.240. the wailing wood-nymphs sobbed a wedding song. 4.241. Such was that day of death, the source and spring 4.242. of many a woe. For Dido took no heed 4.243. of honor and good-name; nor did she mean 4.244. her loves to hide; but called the lawlessness 4.246. Swift through the Libyan cities Rumor sped. 4.333. to his own honor speak not; can the sire 4.334. begrudge Ascanius the heritage 4.335. of the proud name of Rome ? What plans he now? 4.336. What mad hope bids him linger in the lap 4.376. flowed purple from his shoulder, broidered fair 4.377. by opulent Dido with fine threads of gold 4.378. her gift of love; straightway the god began: 4.379. “Dost thou for lofty Carthage toil, to build 4.380. foundations strong? Dost thou, a wife's weak thrall 5.864. nor could his guards restrain . “What madness now? 6.528. Then cooled his wrathful heart; 6.529. With silent lips he looked and wondering eyes 7.71. but comeliest in all their princely throng 7.72. came Turnus, of a line of mighty sires. 7.73. Him the queen mother chiefly loved, and yearned 7.74. to call him soon her son. But omens dire 7.75. and menaces from Heaven withstood her will. 7.76. A laurel-tree grew in the royal close 7.77. of sacred leaf and venerated age 7.78. which, when he builded there his wall and tower 7.79. Father Latinus found, and hallowed it 7.80. to Phoebus' grace and power, wherefrom the name 8.26. in troubled seas of care. This way and that 8.27. his swift thoughts flew, and scanned with like dismay 8.28. each partial peril or the general storm. 8.29. Thus the vexed waters at a fountain's brim 8.30. mitten by sunshine or the silver sphere 8.31. of a reflected moon, send forth a beam 8.32. of flickering light that leaps from wall to wall 8.33. or, skyward lifted in ethereal flight 8.34. glances along some rich-wrought, vaulted dome. 8.35. Now night had fallen, and all weary things 8.699. mused on unnumbered perils yet to come. 9.605. traight at his foes; but in their throng would find 11.246. all ancient ritual. The fuming fires 11.247. burned from beneath, till highest heaven was hid |
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20. Lucan, Pharsalia, 1.337, 7.207-7.213, 8.820-8.822, 8.831-8.833, 8.835-8.837, 8.843-8.846 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
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21. Quintilian, Institutes of Oratory, 6.2.19, 8.3.62-8.3.72, 12.10.61 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
| 6.2.19. Consequently the style of oratory employed in such cases should be calm and mild with no trace of pride, elevation or sublimity, all of which would be out of place. It is enough to speak appropriately, pleasantly and persuasively, and therefore the intermediate style of oratory is most suitable. 8.3.62. It is a great gift to be able to set forth the facts on which we are speaking clearly and vividly. For oratory fails of its full effect, and does not assert itself as it should, if its appeal is merely to the hearing, and if the judge merely feels that the facts on which he has to give his decision are being narrated to him, and not displayed in their living truth to the eyes of the mind. 8.3.63. But since different views have been held with regard to this art of representation, I shall not attempt to divide it into all its different departments, whose number is ostentatiously multiplied by certain writers, but shall content myself with touching on those which appear to me to be absolutely necessary. There is, then, to begin with, one form of vividness which consists in giving an actual word-picture of a scene, as in the passage beginning, "Forthwith each hero tiptoe stood erect." Other details follow which give us such a picture of the two boxers confronting each other for the fight, that it could not have been clearer had we been actual spectators. 8.3.64. Cicero is supreme in this department, as in others. Is there anybody so incapable of forming a mental picture of a scene that, when he reads the following passage from the Verrines, he does not seem not merely to see the actors in the scene, the place itself and their very dress, but even to imagine to himself other details that the orator does not describe? "There on the shore stood the praetor, the representative of the Roman people, with slippered feet, robed in a purple cloak, a tunic streaming to his heels, and leaning on the arm of this worthless woman. 8.3.65. For my own part, I seem to see before my eyes his face, his eyes, the unseemly blandishments of himself and his paramour, the silent loathing and frightened shame of those who viewed this scene. 8.3.66. At times, again, the picture which we endeavour to present is fuller in detail, as, for example, in the following description of a luxurious banquet, which is also from Cicero, since he by himself is capable of supplying admirable examples of every kind of oratorical ornament: "I seemed to see some entering, some leaving the room, some reeling under the influence of the wine, others yawning with yesterday's potations. The floor was foul with wine-smears, covered with wreaths half-withered and littered with fishbones. 8.3.67. What more would any man have seen who had actually entered the room? So, too, we may move our hearers to tears by the picture of a captured town. For the mere statement that the town was stormed, while no doubt it embraces all that such a calamity involves, has all the curtness of a dispatch, and fails to penetrate to the emotions of the hearer. 8.3.68. But if we expand all that the one word "stormed" includes, we shall see the flames pouring from house and temple, and hear the crash of falling roofs and one confused clamour blent of many cries: we shall behold some in doubt whither to fly, others clinging to their nearest and dearest in one last embrace, while the wailing of women and children and the laments of old men that the cruelty of fate should have spared them to see that day will strike upon our ears. 8.3.69. Then will come the pillage of treasure sacred and profane, the hurrying to and fro of the plunderers as they carry off their booty or return to seek for more, the prisoners driven each before his own inhuman captor, the mother struggling to keep her child, and the victors fighting over the richest of the spoil. For though, as I have already said, the sack of a city includes all these things, it is less effective to tell the whole news at once than to recount it detail by detail. 8.3.70. And we shall secure the vividness we seek, if only our descriptions give the impression of truth, nay, we may even add fictitious incidents of the type which commonly occur. The same vivid impression may be produced also by the mention of the accidents of each situation: "Chill shudderings shake my limbs And all my blood is curdled cold with fear;" or "And trembling mothers clasped Their children to their breast. 8.3.71. Though the attainment of such effects is, in my opinion, the highest of all oratorical gifts, it is far from difficult of attainment. Fix your eyes on nature and follow her. All eloquence is concerned with the activities of life, while every man applies to himself what he hears from others, and the mind is always readiest to accept what it recognises to be true to nature. 8.3.72. The invention of similes has also provided an admirable means of illuminating our descriptions. Some of these are designed for insertion among our arguments to help our proof, while others are devised to make our pictures yet more vivid; it is with this latter class of simile that I am now specially concerned. The following are good examples:â "Thence like fierce wolves beneath the cloud of night," or "Like the bird that flies Around the shore and the fish-haunted reef, Skimming the deep. 12.10.61. But he whose eloquence is like to some great torrent that rolls down rocks and "disdains a bridge" and carves out its own banks for itself, will sweep the judge from his feet, struggle as he may, and force him to go whither he bears him. This is the orator that will call the dead to life (as, for example, Cicero calls upon Appius Caecus); it is in his pages that his native land itself will cry aloud and at times address the orator himself, as it addresses Cicero in the speech delivered against Catiline in the senate. |
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22. Seneca The Younger, Letters, 78.15 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
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23. Statius, Achilleis, 1.321-1.322, 1.933-1.934, 1.947-1.948 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
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24. Tacitus, Annals, 1.33, 3.76, 16.7 (1st cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
| 1.33. In the meantime, Germanicus, as we have stated, was traversing the Gallic provinces and assessing their tribute, when the message came that Augustus was no more. Married to the late emperor's granddaughter Agrippina, who had borne him several children, and himself a grandchild of the dowager (he was the son of Tiberius' brother Drusus), he was tormented none the less by the secret hatred of his uncle and grandmother â hatred springing from motives the more potent because iniquitous. For Drusus was still a living memory to the nation, and it was believed that, had he succeeded, he would have restored the age of liberty; whence the same affection and hopes centred on the young Germanicus with his unassuming disposition and his exceptional courtesy, so far removed from the inscrutable arrogance of word and look which characterized Tiberius. Feminine animosities increased the tension as Livia had a stepmother's irritable dislike of Agrippina, whose own temper was not without a hint of fire, though purity of mind and wifely devotion kept her rebellious spirit on the side of righteousness. 3.76. Junia, too, born niece to Cato, wife of Caius Cassius, sister of Marcus Brutus, looked her last on life, sixty-three full years after the field of Philippi. Her will was busily discussed by the crowd; because in disposing of her great wealth she mentioned nearly every patrician of note in complimentary terms, but omitted the Caesar. The slur was taken in good part, and he offered no objection to the celebration of her funeral with a panegyric at the Rostra and the rest of the customary ceremonies. The effigies of twenty great houses preceded her to the tomb â members of the Manlian and Quinctian families, and names of equal splendour. But Brutus and Cassius shone brighter than all by the very fact that their portraits were unseen. 16.7. To the death of Poppaea, outwardly regretted, but welcome to all who remembered her profligacy and cruelty, Nero added a fresh measure of odium by prohibiting Gaius Cassius from attendance at the funeral. It was the first hint of mischief. Nor was the mischief long delayed. Silanus was associated with him; their only crime being that Cassius was eminent for a great hereditary fortune and an austere character, Silanus for a noble lineage and a temperate youth. Accordingly, the emperor sent a speech to the senate, arguing that both should be removed from public life, and objecting to the former that, among his other ancestral effigies, he had honoured a bust of Gaius Cassius, inscribed:â "To the leader of the cause." The seeds of civil war, and revolt from the house of the Caesars, â such were the objects he had pursued. And, not to rely merely on the memory of a hated name as an incentive to faction, he had taken to himself a partner in Lucius Silanus, a youth of noble family and headstrong temper, who was to be his figure-head for a revolution. |
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25. Valerius Flaccus Gaius, Argonautica, 3.712-3.714, 4.8 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
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26. Pliny The Younger, Letters, 1.17, 3.7.8 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
| 1.17. To Cornelius Titianus. Faith and loyalty are not yet extinct among men 0 |
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27. Pliny The Younger, Letters, 1.17, 3.7.8 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
| 1.17. To Cornelius Titianus. Faith and loyalty are not yet extinct among men 0 |
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28. Augustine, The City of God, 5.26, 18.21 (4th cent. CE - 5th cent. CE)
| 5.26. And on this account, Theodosius not only preserved during the lifetime of Gratian that fidelity which was due to him, but also, after his death, he, like a true Christian, took his little brother Valentinian under his protection, as joint emperor, after he had been expelled by Maximus, the murderer of his father. He guarded him with paternal affection, though he might without any difficulty have got rid of him, being entirely destitute of all resources, had he been animated with the desire of extensive empire, and not with the ambition of being a benefactor. It was therefore a far greater pleasure to him, when he had adopted the boy, and preserved to him his imperial dignity, to console him by his very humanity and kindness. Afterwards, when that success was rendering Maximus terrible, Theodosius, in the midst of his perplexing anxieties, was not drawn away to follow the suggestions of a sacrilegious and unlawful curiosity, but sent to John, whose abode was in the desert of Egypt - for he had learned that this servant of God (whose fame was spreading abroad) was endowed with the gift of prophecy - and from him he received assurance of victory. Immediately the slayer of the tyrant Maximus, with the deepest feelings of compassion and respect, restored the boy Valentinianus to his share in the empire from which he had been driven. Valentinianus being soon after slain by secret assassination, or by some other plot or accident, Theodosius, having again received a response from the prophet, and placing entire confidence in it, marched against the tyrant Eugenius, who had been unlawfully elected to succeed that emperor, and defeated his very powerful army, more by prayer than by the sword. Some soldiers who were at the battle reported to me that all the missiles they were throwing were snatched from their hands by a vehement wind, which blew from the direction of Theodosius' army upon the enemy; nor did it only drive with greater velocity the darts which were hurled against them, but also turned back upon their own bodies the darts which they themselves were throwing. And therefore the poet Claudian, although an alien from the name of Christ, nevertheless says in his praises of him, O prince, too much beloved by God, for you Æolus pours armed tempests from their caves; for you the air fights, and the winds with one accord obey your bugles. But the victor, as he had believed and predicted, overthrew the statues of Jupiter, which had been, as it were, consecrated by I know not what kind of rites against him, and set up in the Alps. And the thunderbolts of these statues, which were made of gold, he mirthfully and graciously presented to his couriers who (as the joy of the occasion permitted) were jocularly saying that they would be most happy to be struck by such thunderbolts. The sons of his own enemies, whose fathers had been slain not so much by his orders as by the vehemence of war, having fled for refuge to a church, though they were not yet Christians, he was anxious, taking advantage of the occasion, to bring over to Christianity, and treated them with Christian love. Nor did he deprive them of their property, but, besides allowing them to retain it, bestowed on them additional honors. He did not permit private animosities to affect the treatment of any man after the war. He was not like Cinna, and Marius, and Sylla, and other such men, who wished not to finish civil wars even when they were finished, but rather grieved that they had arisen at all, than wished that when they were finished they should harm any one. Amid all these events, from the very commencement of his reign, he did not cease to help the troubled church against the impious by most just and merciful laws, which the heretical Valens, favoring the Arians, had vehemently afflicted. Indeed, he rejoiced more to be a member of this church than he did to be a king upon the earth. The idols of the Gentiles he everywhere ordered to be overthrown, understanding well that not even terrestrial gifts are placed in the power of demons, but in that of the true God. And what could be more admirable than his religious humility, when, compelled by the urgency of certain of his intimates, he avenged the grievous crime of the Thessalonians, which at the prayer of the bishops he had promised to pardon, and, being laid hold of by the discipline of the church, did pece in such a way that the sight of his imperial loftiness prostrated made the people who were interceding for him weep more than the consciousness of offense had made them fear it when enraged? These and other similar good works, which it would be long to tell, he carried with him from this world of time, where the greatest human nobility and loftiness are but vapor. of these works the reward is eternal happiness, of which God is the giver, though only to those who are sincerely pious. But all other blessings and privileges of this life, as the world itself, light, air, earth, water, fruits, and the soul of man himself, his body, senses, mind, life, He lavishes on good and bad alike. And among these blessings is also to be reckoned the possession of an empire, whose extent He regulates according to the requirements of His providential government at various times. Whence, I see, we must now answer those who, being confuted and convicted by the most manifest proofs, by which it is shown that for obtaining these terrestrial things, which are all the foolish desire to have, that multitude of false gods is of no use, attempt to assert that the gods are to be worshipped with a view to the interest, not of the present life, but of that which is to come after death. For as to those who, for the sake of the friendship of this world, are willing to worship vanities, and do not grieve that they are left to their puerile understandings, I think they have been sufficiently answered in these five books; of which books, when I had published the first three, and they had begun to come into the hands of many, I heard that certain persons were preparing against them an answer of some kind or other in writing. Then it was told me that they had already written their answer, but were waiting a time when they could publish it without danger. Such persons I would advise not to desire what cannot be of any advantage to them; for it is very easy for a man to seem to himself to have answered arguments, when he has only been unwilling to be silent. For what is more loquacious than vanity? And though it be able, if it like, to shout more loudly than the truth, it is not, for all that, more powerful than the truth. But let men consider diligently all the things that we have said, and if, perchance, judging without party spirit, they shall clearly perceive that they are such things as may rather be shaken than torn up by their most impudent garrulity, and, as it were, satirical and mimic levity, let them restrain their absurdities, and let them choose rather to be corrected by the wise than to be lauded by the foolish. For if they are waiting an opportunity, not for liberty to speak the truth, but for license to revile, may not that befall them which Tully says concerning some one, Oh, wretched man! Who was at liberty to sin? Wherefore, whoever he be who deems himself happy because of license to revile, he would be far happier if that were not allowed him at all; for he might all the while, laying aside empty boast, be contradicting those to whose views he is opposed by way of free consultation with them, and be listening, as it becomes him, honorably, gravely, candidly, to all that can be adduced by those whom he consults by friendly disputation. 18.21. After Æneas, whom they deified, Latium had eleven kings, none of whom was deified. But Aventinus, who was the twelfth after Æneas, having been laid low in war, and buried in that hill still called by his name, was added to the number of such gods as they made for themselves. Some, indeed, were unwilling to write that he was slain in battle, but said he was nowhere to be found, and that it was not from his name, but from the alighting of birds, that hill was called Aventinus. After this no god was made in Latium except Romulus the founder of Rome. But two kings are found between these two, the first of whom I shall describe in the Virgilian verse: Next came that Procas, glory of the Trojan race. That greatest of all kingdoms, the Assyrian, had its long duration brought to a close in his time, the time of Rome's birth drawing near. For the Assyrian empire was transferred to the Medes after nearly thirteen hundred and five years, if we include the reign of Belus, who begot Ninus, and, content with a small kingdom, was the first king there. Now Procas reigned before Amulius. And Amulius had made his brother Numitor's daughter, Rhea by name, who was also called Ilia, a vestal virgin, who conceived twin sons by Mars, as they will have it, in that way honoring or excusing her adultery, adding as a proof that a she-wolf nursed the infants when exposed. For they think this kind of beast belongs to Mars so that the she-wolf is believed to have given her teats to the infants, because she knew they were the sons of Mars her lord; although there are not wanting persons who say that when the crying babes lay exposed, they were first of all picked up by I know not what harlot, and sucked her breasts first (now harlots were called lup, she-wolves, from which their vile abodes are even yet called lupanaria), and that afterwards they came into the hands of the shepherd Faustulus, and were nursed by Acca his wife. Yet what wonder is it, if, to rebuke the king who had cruelly ordered them to be thrown into the water, God was pleased, after divinely delivering them from the water, to succor, by means of a wild beast giving milk, these infants by whom so great a city was to be founded? Amulius was succeeded in the Latian kingdom by his brother Numitor, the grandfather of Romulus; and Rome was founded in the first year of this Numitor, who from that time reigned along with his grandson Romulus. |
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29. Orosius Paulus, Historiae Adversum Paganos, 2.18.4 (4th cent. CE - 5th cent. CE)
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30. Prudentius, Contra Symmachum, 2.738-2.749 (4th cent. CE - 5th cent. CE)
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