Complete works of willia.., p.693
Complete Works of William Morris, page 693
In daily hunt, whereby we learned the river’s uplong brim.”
Then spake Aletes weighty-wise, heart-ripe with plenteous eld:
“Gods of our fathers, under whom the weal of Troy is held,
Ye have not doomed all utterly the Teucrian folk undone,
When ye for us such souls of youth, such hardy hearts have won.”
So saying by shoulder and by hand he took the goodly twain,
While all his countenance and cheeks were wet with plenteous rain, 250
“What gifts may I deem worthy, men, to pay such hearts athirst
For utmost glory? certainly the fairest and the first
The Gods and your own hearts shall grant: the rest your lord shall give,
Godly Æneas; and this man with all his life to live,
Ascanius here, no memory of such desert shall lack.”
“But I,” Ascanius breaketh in, “whose father brought aback
Is all my heal — Nisus, I pray by those great Gods of mine,
By him of old, Assaracus, by hoary Vesta’s shrine,
Bring back my father! whatsoe’er is left with me today
Of Fate or Faith, into your breasts I give it all away. 260
O give me back the sight of him, and grief is all gone by.
Two cups of utter silver wrought and rough with imagery
I give you, which my father took from wracked Arisbe’s hold;
Two tripods eke, two talents’ weight of fire-beproven gold;
A beaker of the time agone, Sidonian Dido’s gift.
But if we hap to win the day and spoil of battle shift,
If we lay hand on Italy and staff of kingship bear, —
Ye saw the horse that bore today gold Turnus and his gear,
That very same, the shield withal, and helm-crest ruddy dyed,
Thy gifts, O Nisus, from the spoil henceforth I set aside. 270
Moreover of the mother-folk twice six most excellent
My sire shall give, and captive men with all their armament,
And therewithal the kingly field, Latinus’ garden-place.
But thou, O boy most worshipful, whom nigher in the race
Mine own years follow, thee I take unto mine inmost heart,
Embracing thee my very friend in all to have a part;
Nor any glory of my days without thee shall I seek,
Whether I fashion peace or war; all that I do or speak
I trust to thee.”
In answer thus Euryalus ‘gan say:
“No day henceforth of all my life shall prove me fallen away 280
From this my deed: only may fate in kindly wise befall,
Nor stand against me: now one gift I ask thee over all:
I have a mother born on earth from Priam’s ancient race,
Who wretched in the land of Troy had no abiding-place,
Nor in Acesta’s steadfast wall; with me she still must wend:
Her, who knows nought of this my risk, whatever may be the end
Unto thy safeguard do I leave: Night and thy right hand there
Be witness that my mother’s tears I had no heart to bear.
But solace thou her lack, I pray; comfort her desert need;
Yea let me bear this hope with me, and boldlier shall I speed 290
Amid all haps.”
Touched to the heart the Dardans might not keep
Their tears aback, and chief of all did fair Iulus weep,
The image of his father’s love so flashed upon his soul:
And therewithal he spake the word:
“All things I duly answer for worthy thy deed of fame;
Thy mother shall my mother be, nor lack but e’en the name
To be Creusa: store of thanks no little hath she won
That bore thee. Whatsoever hap thy valorous deed bear on,
By this my head, whereon my sire is wont the troth to plight,
Whatever I promised thee come back, with all things wrought aright, 300
Thy mother and thy kin shall bide that very same reward.”
So spake he, weeping, and did off his shoulder-girded sword
All golden, that with wondrous craft Lycaon out of Crete
Had fashioned, fitting it withal in ivory scabbard meet.
And Mnestheus unto Nisus gives a stripped-off lion’s hide
And shaggy coat; and helm for helm giveth Aletes tried.
Then forth they wend in weed of war, and they of first estate,
Young men and old, went forth with them, and leave them at the gate
With following vows; and therewithal Iulus, goodly-wrought,
Who far beyond his tender years had mind of manly thought, 310
Charged them with many messages unto his father’s ear, —
Vain words the night-winds bore away and gave the clouds to bear.
Forth now they wend and pass the ditch, and through the mirk night gain
The baneful camp: yet ere their death they too shall be the bane
Of many: bodies laid in sleep and wine they see strewed o’er
The herbage, and the battle-cars upreared along the shore;
And mid the reins and wheels thereof are men and weapons blent
With wine-jars: so Hyrtacides such word from tooth-hedge sent:
“Euryalus, the hand must dare, the time cries on the deed;
Here lies the way: do thou afar keep watch and have good heed, 320
Lest any hand aback of us arise ‘gainst thee and me:
Here will I make a waste forsooth, and wide thy way shall be.”
He speaks, and hushes all his voice, and so with naked blade
Falls on proud Rhamnes; who, as happed, on piled-up carpets laid,
Amid his sleep was blowing forth great voice from inner breast.
A king he was; king Turnus’ seer, of all belovèd best;
Yet nought availed his wizardry to drive his bane away.
Three thralls unware, as heeding nought amid the spears they lay,
He endeth: Remus’ shield-bearer withal and charioteer, 329
Caught ‘neath the very steeds: his sword their drooping necks doth shear;
Then from their lord he takes the head, and leaves the trunk to spout
Gushes of blood: the earth is warm with black gore all about.
The beds are wet. There Lamyrus and Lamus doth he slay,
And young Serranus fair of face, who played the night away
For many an hour, until his limbs ‘neath God’s abundance failed,
And down he lay: ah! happier ‘twere if he had still prevailed
To make the live-long night one game until the morning cold.
As famished lion Nisus fares amid the sheep-filled fold,
When ravening hunger driveth on; the soft things, dumb with dread,
He draggeth off, devouring them, and foams from mouth blood-red. 340
Nor less the death Euryalus hath wrought; for all aflame
He wades in wrath, and on the way slays many lacking name:
Fadus, Herbesus therewithal, Rhoetus and Abaris;
Unwary they: but Rhoetus waked, and looking on all this,
Fulfilled of fear was hiding him behind a wine-jar pressed:
The foe was on him as he rose; the sword-blade pierced his breast
Up to the hilts, and drew aback abundant stream of death.
His purple life he poureth forth, and, dying, vomiteth
Blent blood and wine. On death-stealth still onward the Trojan went,
And toward Messapus’ leaguer drew, where watch-fires well-nigh spent
He saw, and horses all about, tethered in order due, 351
Cropping the grass: but Nisus spake in hasty words and few,
Seeing him borne away by lust of slaughter overmuch:
“Hold we our hands, for dawn our foe hasteth the world to touch:
Deep have we drunk of death, and cut a road amid the foe.”
The gear of men full goodly-wrought of silver through and through
They leave behind, and bowls therewith, and carpets fashioned fair.
Natheless Euryalus caught up the prophet Rhamnes’ gear
And gold-bossed belt, which Cædicus, the wealthy man of old,
Sent to Tiburtine Remulus, that he his name might hold, 360
Though far he were; who, dying, gave his grandson their delight;
And he being dead, Rutulian men won them in war and fight
These now he takes, and all for nought does on his valorous breast,
And dons Messapus’ handy helm with goodly-fashioned crest,
Wherewith they leave the camp and gain the road that safer lay.
But horsemen from the Latin town meantime were on the way,
Sent on before to carry word to Turnus, lord and king,
While in array amid the fields the host was tarrying.
Three hundred knights, all shielded folk, ‘neath Volscens do they fare.
And now they drew anigh the camp and ‘neath its rampart were, 370
When from afar they saw the twain on left-hand footway lurk;
Because Euryalus’ fair helm mid glimmer of the mirk
Betrayed the heedless youth, and flashed the moonbeams back again.
Nor was the sight unheeded: straight cries Volscens midst his men:
“Stand ho! why thus afoot, and why in weapons do ye wend,
And whither go ye?”
Nought had they an answer back to send,
But speed their fleeing mid the brake, and trust them to the night;
The horsemen cast themselves before each crossway known aright,
And every outgoing there is with guard they girdle round. 379
Rough was the wood; a thicket-place where black holm-oaks abound,
And with the tanglement of thorns choked up on every side,
The road but glimmering faintly out from where the foot-tracks hide.
The blackness of overhanging boughs and heavy battle-prey
Hinder Euryalus, and fear beguiles him of the way.
Nisus comes out, and now had won unwitting from the foe,
And reached the place from Alba’s name called Alban Meadows now;
Where King Latinus had as then his high-built herd-houses.
So there he stands, and, looking round, his fellow nowhere sees:
“Hapless Euryalus! ah me, where have I left thy face?
Where shall I seek thee, gathering up that tangle of the ways 390
Through the blind wood?”
So therewithal he turns upon his track,
Noting his footsteps, and amid the hushed brake strays aback,
Hearkening the horse-hoofs and halloos and calls of following folk.
Nor had he long abided there, ere on his ears outbroke
Great clamour, and Euryalus he sees, whom all the band
Hath taken, overcome by night, and blindness of the land,
And wildering tumult: there in vain he strives in battle-play.
Ah, what to do? What force to dare, what stroke to snatch away
The youth? Or shall he cast himself amid the swords to die,
And hasten down the way of wounds to lovely death anigh? 400
Then swiftly, with his arm drawn back and brandishing his spear,
He looks up at the moon aloft, and thuswise poureth prayer:
“To aid, thou Goddess! Stay my toil, and let the end be good!
Latonian glory of the stars, fair watcher of the wood,
If ever any gift for me upon thine altars gave
My father Hyrtacus; if I for thee the hunting drave;
If aught I hung upon thy dome, or set upon thy roof,
Give me to break their gathered host, guide thou my steel aloof!”
He spake, and in the shafted steel set all his body’s might, 409
And hurled it: flying forth the spear clave through the dusk of night,
And, reaching Sulmo turned away, amidst his back it flew,
And brake there; but the splintering shaft his very heart pierced through,
And o’er he rolleth, vomiting the hot stream from his breast:
Then heave his flanks with long-drawn sobs and cold he lies at rest.
On all sides then they peer about: but, whetted on thereby,
The quivering shaft from o’er his ear again he letteth fly.
Amid their wilderment the spear whistleth through either side
Of Tagus’ temples, and wet-hot amidst his brain doth bide.
Fierce Volscens rageth, seeing none who might the spear-shot send,
Or any man on whom his wrath and heat of heart to spend. 420
“But thou, at least, with thine hot blood shalt pay the due award
For both,” he cries; and therewithal, swift drawing forth the sword,
He falleth on Euryalus. Then, wild with all affright,
Nisus shrieks out, and cares no more to cloak himself with night,
And hath no heart to bear against so great a misery.
“On me, me! Here — I did the deed! turn ye the sword on me,
Rutulians! — all the guilt is mine: he might not do nor dare.
May heaven and those all-knowing stars true witness of it bear!
Only with too exceeding love he loved his hapless friend.” 429
Such words he poured forth, but the sword no less its way doth wend,
Piercing the flank and rending through the goodly breast of him;
And rolls Euryalus in death: in plenteous blood they swim
His lovely limbs, his drooping neck low on his shoulder lies:
As when the purple field-flower faints before the plough and dies,
Or poppies when they hang their heads on wearied stems outworn,
When haply by the rainy load their might is overborne.
Then Nisus falls amidst of them, and Volscens seeks alone
For aught that any man may do: save him he heedeth none.
About him throng the foe: all round the strokes on him are laid
To thrust him off: but on he bears, whirling his lightning blade, 440
Till full in Volscens’ shouting mouth he burieth it at last,
Tearing the life from out the foe, as forth his own life passed.
Then, ploughed with wounds, he cast him down upon his lifeless friend,
And so in quietness of death gat resting in the end.
O happy twain, if anywise my song-craft may avail,
From out the memory of the world no day shall blot your tale,
While on the rock-fast Capitol Æneas’ house abides,
And while the Roman Father still the might of empire guides.
The Rutuli, victorious now with spoils and prey of war,
But sorrowing still, amid the camp the perished Volscens bore. 450
Nor in the camp was grief the less, when they on Rhamnes came
Bloodless; and many a chief cut off by one death and the same;
Serranus dead and Numa dead: a many then they swarm
About the dead and dying men, and places wet and warm
With new-wrought death, and runnels full with plenteous foaming blood.
Then one by one the spoils they note; the glittering helm and good
Messapus owned: the gear such toil had won back from the dead.
But timely now Aurora left Tithonus’ saffron bed,
And over earth went scattering wide the light of new-born day:
The sun-flood flowed, and all the world unveiled by daylight lay. 460
Then Turnus, clad in arms himself, wakes up the host to arms,
And every lord to war-array bids on his brazen swarms;
And men with diverse tidings told their battle-anger whet.
Moreover (miserable sight!) on upraised spears they set
Those heads, and follow them about with most abundant noise,
Euryalus and Nisus dead.
Meanwhile Æneas’ hardy sons upon their leftward wall
Stand in array; for on the right the river girdeth all.
In woe they ward the ditches deep, and on the towers on high 469
Stand sorrowing; for those heads upreared touch all their hearts anigh,
Known overwell to their sad eyes mid the black flow of gore.
Therewith in wingèd fluttering haste, the trembling city o’er
Goes tell-tale Fame, and swift amidst the mother’s ears doth glide;
And changed she was, nor in her bones the life-heat would abide:
The shuttle falls from out her hand, unrolled the web doth fall,
And with a woman’s hapless shrieks she flieth to the wall:
Rending her hair, beside herself, she faced the front of fight,
Heedless of men, and haps of death, and all the weapons’ flight,
And there the very heavens she filled with wailing of her grief:
“O son, and do I see thee so? Thou rest and last relief 480
Of my old days! hadst thou the heart to leave me lone and spent?
O cruel! might I see thee not on such a peril sent?
Was there no time for one last word amid my misery?
A prey for Latin fowl and dogs how doth thy body lie,
On lands uncouth! Not e’en may I, thy mother, streak thee, son,
Thy body dead; or close thine eyes, or wash thy wounds well won,
Or shroud thee in the cloth I wrought for thee by night and day,
When hastening on the weaving-task I kept eld’s cares at bay?
Where shall I seek thee? What earth hides thy body, mangled sore,
And perished limbs? O son, to me bringest thou back no more 490
Than this? and have I followed this o’er every land and sea?
O pierce me through, if ye be kind; turn all your points on me,
Rutulians! Let me first of all with battle-steel be sped!
Father of Gods, have mercy thou! Thrust down the hated head
Beneath the House of Tartarus with thine own weapon’s stress,
Since otherwise I may not break my life-days’ bitterness.”
Their hearts were shaken with her wail, and Sorrow fain will weep,
And in all men their battle-might unbroken lay asleep.
But Actor and Idæus take that flaming misery,
