The Aeneid
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第41章

For what remains, your godhead I implore, And trust my son to your protecting pow'r.

If neither Jove's nor Fate's decree withstand, Secure his passage to the Latian land."Then thus the mighty Ruler of the Main:

"What may not Venus hope from Neptune's reign?

My kingdom claims your birth; my late defense Of your indanger'd fleet may claim your confidence.

Nor less by land than sea my deeds declare How much your lov'd Aeneas is my care.

Thee, Xanthus, and thee, Simois, I attest.

Your Trojan troops when proud Achilles press'd, And drove before him headlong on the plain, And dash'd against the walls the trembling train;When floods were fill'd with bodies of the slain;When crimson Xanthus, doubtful of his way, Stood up on ridges to behold the sea;(New heaps came tumbling in, and chok'd his way;)When your Aeneas fought, but fought with odds Of force unequal, and unequal gods;I spread a cloud before the victor's sight, Sustain'd the vanquish'd, and secur'd his flight;Ev'n then secur'd him, when I sought with joy The vow'd destruction of ungrateful Troy.

My will's the same: fair goddess, fear no more, Your fleet shall safely gain the Latian shore;Their lives are giv'n; one destin'd head alone Shall perish, and for multitudes atone."Thus having arm'd with hopes her anxious mind, His finny team Saturnian Neptune join'd, Then adds the foamy bridle to their jaws, And to the loosen'd reins permits the laws.

High on the waves his azure car he guides;Its axles thunder, and the sea subsides, And the smooth ocean rolls her silent tides.

The tempests fly before their father's face, Trains of inferior gods his triumph grace, And monster whales before their master play, And choirs of Tritons crowd the wat'ry way.

The marshal'd pow'rs in equal troops divide To right and left; the gods his better side Inclose, and on the worse the Nymphs and Nereids ride.

Now smiling hope, with sweet vicissitude, Within the hero's mind his joys renew'd.

He calls to raise the masts, the sheets display;The cheerful crew with diligence obey;

They scud before the wind, and sail in open sea.

Ahead of all the master pilot steers;

And, as he leads, the following navy veers.

The steeds of Night had travel'd half the sky, The drowsy rowers on their benches lie, When the soft God of Sleep, with easy flight, Descends, and draws behind a trail of light.

Thou, Palinurus, art his destin'd prey;

To thee alone he takes his fatal way.

Dire dreams to thee, and iron sleep, he bears;And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phorbas wears.

Then thus the traitor god began his tale:

"The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale;The ships, without thy care, securely sail.

Now steal an hour of sweet repose; and I

Will take the rudder and thy room supply."To whom the yawning pilot, half asleep:

"Me dost thou bid to trust the treach'rous deep, The harlot smiles of her dissembling face, And to her faith commit the Trojan race?

Shall I believe the Siren South again, And, oft betray'd, not know the monster main?"He said: his fasten'd hands the rudder keep, And, fix'd on heav'n, his eyes repel invading sleep.

The god was wroth, and at his temples threw A branch in Lethe dipp'd, and drunk with Stygian dew:

The pilot, vanquish'd by the pow'r divine, Soon clos'd his swimming eyes, and lay supine.

Scarce were his limbs extended at their length, The god, insulting with superior strength, Fell heavy on him, plung'd him in the sea, And, with the stern, the rudder tore away.

Headlong he fell, and, struggling in the main, Cried out for helping hands, but cried in vain.

The victor daemon mounts obscure in air, While the ship sails without the pilot's care.

On Neptune's faith the floating fleet relies;But what the man forsook, the god supplies, And o'er the dang'rous deep secure the navy flies;Glides by the Sirens' cliffs, a shelfy coast, Long infamous for ships and sailors lost, And white with bones.Th' impetuous ocean roars, And rocks rebellow from the sounding shores.

The watchful hero felt the knocks, and found The tossing vessel sail'd on shoaly ground.

Sure of his pilot's loss, he takes himself The helm, and steers aloof, and shuns the shelf.

Inly he griev'd, and, groaning from the breast, Deplor'd his death; and thus his pain express'd:

"For faith repos'd on seas, and on the flatt'ring sky, Thy naked corpse is doom'd on shores unknown to lie."