| from the AENEID - Book X, ll.1-37 | |
| Virgil (Publius Vergilius Maro) | tr. John Dryden |
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Panditur interea domus omnipotentis Olympi, conciliumque vocat divom pater atque hominum rex sideream in sedem, terras unde arduus omnis castraque Dardanidum adspectat populosque Latinos. |
The Gates of Heav'n unfold; Jove summons all The Gods to Council, in the Common Hall. Sublimely seated, he surveys from far The Fields, the Camp, the Fortune of the War; And all th' inferior World: From first to last The Sov'raign Senate in Degrees are plac'd. |
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Considunt tectis bipatentibus, incipit ipse: `Caelicolae magni, quianam sententia vobis versa retro tantumque animis certatis iniquis? Abnueram bello Italiam concurrere Teucris. Quae contra vetitum discordia? Quis metus aut hos aut hos arma sequi ferrumque lacessere suasit? Adveniet iustum pugnae, ne arcessite, tempus, cum fera Karthago Romanis arcibus olim exitium magnum atque Alpes immittet apertas: tum certare odiis, tum res rapuisse licebit. Nunc sinite et placitum laeti componite foedus.' |
Then thus th' Almighty Sire began. Ye Gods, Natives, or Denizons, of blest Abodes; From whence these Murmurs, and this change of Mind, This backward Fate from what was first design'd? Why this protracted War? When my Commands Pronounc'd a Peace, and gave the Latian Lands. What Fear or Hope on either part divides Our Heav'ns, and arms our Pow'rs on diff'rent sides? A lawful Time of War at length will come, (Nor need your haste anticipate the Doom,) When Carthage shall contend the World with Rome: Shall force the rigid Rocks, and Alpine Chains; And like a Flood come pouring on the Plains. Then is your time for Faction and Debate, For partial Favour, and permitted Hate. Let now your immature Dissention cease; Sit quiet, and compose your Souls to Peace. |
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Iuppiter haec paucis; at non Venus aurea contra pauca refert: `O pater, O hominum rerumque aeterna potestas! Namque aliud quid sit, quod iam implorare queamus? Cernis ut insultent Rutulli Turnusque (feratur per medios insignis equis tumidusque) secundo Marte ruat? Non clausa tegunt iam moenia Teucros: quin intra portas atque ipsis proelia miscent aggeribus moerorum et inundant sanguine fossas. Aeneas ignarus abest. Numquamne levari |
Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the Charge: But lovely Venus thus replies at large. O Pow'r immense, Eternal Energy! (For to what else Protection can we fly,) Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare In Fields, unpunish'd, and insult my Care? How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his Train, In shining Arms, triumphant on the Plain? Ev'n in their Lines and Trenches they contend; And scarce their Walls the Trojan Troops defend: The Town is fill'd with Slaughter, and o'refloats, With a red Deluge, their increasing Moats. Æneas ignorant, and far from thence, |
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obsidione sines? Muris iterum imminet hostis nascentis Troiae (nec non exercitus alter;) atque iterum in Teucros Aetolis surgit ab Arpis Tydides. Equidem credo, mea volnera restant et tua progenies mortalia demoror arma. Si sine pace tua atque invito numine Troes Italiam petiere, luant peccata neque illos iuveris auxilio; sin tot responsa secuti, quae superi manesque dabant: cur nunc tua quisquam vertere iussa potest aut cur nova condere fata? Quid repetem exustas Erycino in litore classes, quid tempestatum regem ventosque furentis Aeolia excitos aut actam nubibus Irim? ............ ............ |
Has left a Camp expos'd, without Defence. This endless outrage shall they still sustain? Shall Troy renew'd be forc'd, and fir'd again? A second Siege my banish'd Issue fears, And a new Diomede in Arms appears. One more audacious Mortal will be found; And I thy Daughter wait another Wound. Yet, if with Fates averse, without thy Leave, The Latian Lands my Progeny receive; Bear they the Pains of violated Law, And thy Protection from their Aid withdraw. But if the Gods their sure Success fortel, If those of Heav'n consent with those of Hell, To promise Italy; who dare debate The Pow'r of Jove, or fix another Fate? What shou'd I tell of Tempests on the Main, Of Eolus usurping Neptune's Reign? Of Iris sent; with Bachanalian Heat, T' inspire the Matrons, and destroy the Fleet. ............ ............ |
Copyright © Frederick M.Keener 1997 - publ. Penguin Classics
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