The Aeneid of Virgil | Page 6

to AEolia passed,?The storm-clouds' birthplace, big with blustering wind. Here AEolus within a dungeon vast?The sounding tempest and the struggling blast?Bends to his sway and bridles them with chains.?They, in the rock reverberant held fast,?Moan at the doors. Here, throned aloft, he reigns;?His sceptre calms their rage, their violence restrains:
IX. Else earth and sea and all the firmament
The winds together through the void would sweep.?But, fearing this, the Sire omnipotent?Hath buried them in caverns dark and deep,?And o'er them piled huge mountains in a heap,?And set withal a monarch, there to reign,?By compact taught at his command to keep?Strict watch, and tighten or relax the rein.?Him now Saturnia sought, and thus in lowly strain:
X. "O AEolus, for Jove, of human kind
And Gods the sovran Sire, hath given to thee?To lull the waves and lift them with the wind,?A hateful people, enemies to me,?Their ships are steering o'er the Tuscan sea,?Bearing their Troy and vanquished gods away?To Italy. Go, set the storm-winds free,?And sink their ships or scatter them astray,?And strew their corpses forth, to weltering waves a prey.
XI. "Twice seven nymphs have I, beautiful to see;
One, Deiopeia, fairest of the fair,?In lasting wedlock will I link to thee,?Thy life-long years for such deserts to share,?And make thee parent of an offspring fair."--?"Speak, Queen," he answered, "to obey is mine.?To thee I owe this sceptre and whate'er?Of realm is here; thou makest Jove benign,?Thou giv'st to rule the storms and sit at feasts divine."
XII. So spake the God and with her hest complied,
And turned the massive sceptre in his hand?And pushed the hollow mountain on its side.?Out rushed the winds, like soldiers in a band,?In wedged array, and, whirling, scour the land.?East, West and squally South-west, with a roar,?Swoop down on Ocean, and the surf and sand?Mix in dark eddies, and the watery floor?Heave from its depths, and roll huge billows to the shore.
XIII. Then come the creak of cables and the cries
Of seamen. Clouds the darkened heavens have drowned,?And snatched the daylight from the Trojans' eyes.?Black night broods on the waters; all around?From pole to pole the rattling peals resound?And frequent flashes light the lurid air.?All nature, big with instant ruin, frowned?Destruction. Then AEneas' limbs with fear?Were loosened, and he groaned and stretched his hands in prayer:
XIV. "Thrice, four times blest, who, in their fathers' face
Fell by the walls of Ilion far away!?O son of Tydeus, bravest of the race,?Why could not I have perished, too, that day?Beneath thine arm, and breathed this soul away?Far on the plains of Troy, where Hector brave?Lay, pierced by fierce AEacides, where lay?Giant Sarpedon, and swift Simois' wave?Rolls heroes, helms and shields, whelmed in one watery grave?"
XV. E'en as he cried, the hurricane from the North
Struck with a roar against the sail. Up leap?The waves to heaven; the shattered oars start forth;?Round swings the prow, and lets the waters sweep?The broadside. Onward comes a mountain heap?Of billows, gaunt, abrupt. These, horsed astride?A surge's crest, rock pendent o'er the deep;?To those the wave's huge hollow, yawning wide,?Lays bare the ground below; dark swells the sandy tide.
XVI. Three ships the South-wind catching hurls away
On hidden rocks, which (Latins from of yore?Have called them "Altars") in mid ocean lay,?A huge ridge level with the tide. Three more?Fierce Eurus from the deep sea dashed ashore?On quicks and shallows, pitiful to view,?And round them heaped the sandbanks. One, that bore?The brave Orontes and his Lycian crew,?Full in AEneas' sight a toppling wave o'erthrew.
XVII. Dashed from the tiller, down the pilot rolled.
Thrice round the billow whirled her, as she lay,?Then whelmed below. Strewn here and there behold?Arms, planks, lone swimmers in the surges grey,?And treasures snatched from Trojan homes away.?Now fail the ships wherein Achates ride?And Abas; old Aletes' bark gives way,?And brave Ilioneus'. Each loosened side?Through many a gaping seam lets in the baleful tide.
XVIII. Meanwhile great Neptune, sore amazed, perceived
The storm let loose, the turmoil of the sky,?And ocean from its lowest depths upheaved.?With calm brow lifted o'er the sea, his eye?Beholds Troy's navy scattered far and nigh,?And by the waves and ruining heaven oppressed?The Trojan crews. Nor failed he to espy?His sister's wiles and hatred. East and West?He summoned to his throne, and thus his wrath expressed.
XIX. "What pride of birth possessed you, Earth and air
Without my leave to mingle in affray,?And raise such hubbub in my realm? Beware--?Yet first 'twere best these billows to allay.?Far other coin hereafter ye shall pay?For crimes like these. Presumptuous winds, begone,?And take your king this message, that the sway?Of Ocean and the sceptre and the throne?Fate gave to me, not him; the trident is my own.
XX. "He holds huge rocks; these, Eurus, are for thee,
There let him glory in his hall and reign,?But keep his winds close prisoners." Thus he,?And, ere his speech was ended, smoothed the main,?And chased the