第70章

"O Trojan race, your needless aid forbear, And know, my ships are my peculiar care.

With greater ease the bold Rutulian may, With hissing brands, attempt to burn the sea, Than singe my sacred pines.But you, my charge, Loos'd from your crooked anchors, launch at large, Exalted each a nymph: forsake the sand, And swim the seas, at Cybele's command."No sooner had the goddess ceas'd to speak, When, lo! th' obedient ships their haulsers break;And, strange to tell, like dolphins, in the main They plunge their prows, and dive, and spring again:

As many beauteous maids the billows sweep, As rode before tall vessels on the deep.

The foes, surpris'd with wonder, stood aghast;Messapus curb'd his fiery courser's haste;Old Tiber roar'd, and, raising up his head, Call'd back his waters to their oozy bed.

Turnus alone, undaunted, bore the shock, And with these words his trembling troops bespoke:

"These monsters for the Trojans' fate are meant, And are by Jove for black presages sent.

He takes the cowards' last relief away;

For fly they cannot, and, constrain'd to stay, Must yield unfought, a base inglorious prey.

The liquid half of all the globe is lost;Heav'n shuts the seas, and we secure the coast.

Theirs is no more than that small spot of ground Which myriads of our martial men surround.

Their fates I fear not, or vain oracles.

'T was giv'n to Venus they should cross the seas, And land secure upon the Latian plains:

Their promis'd hour is pass'd, and mine remains.

'T is in the fate of Turnus to destroy, With sword and fire, the faithless race of Troy.

Shall such affronts as these alone inflame The Grecian brothers, and the Grecian name?

My cause and theirs is one; a fatal strife, And final ruin, for a ravish'd wife.

Was 't not enough, that, punish'd for the crime, They fell; but will they fall a second time?

One would have thought they paid enough before, To curse the costly sex, and durst offend no more.

Can they securely trust their feeble wall, A slight partition, a thin interval, Betwixt their fate and them; when Troy, tho' built By hands divine, yet perish'd by their guilt?

Lend me, for once, my friends, your valiant hands, To force from out their lines these dastard bands.

Less than a thousand ships will end this war, Nor Vulcan needs his fated arms prepare.

Let all the Tuscans, all th' Arcadians, join!

Nor these, nor those, shall frustrate my design.

Let them not fear the treasons of the night, The robb'd Palladium, the pretended flight:

Our onset shall be made in open light.

No wooden engine shall their town betray;Fires they shall have around, but fires by day.

No Grecian babes before their camp appear, Whom Hector's arms detain'd to the tenth tardy year.

Now, since the sun is rolling to the west, Give we the silent night to needful rest:

Refresh your bodies, and your arms prepare;The morn shall end the small remains of war."The post of honor to Messapus falls, To keep the nightly guard, to watch the walls, To pitch the fires at distances around, And close the Trojans in their scanty ground.

Twice seven Rutulian captains ready stand, And twice seven hundred horse these chiefs command;All clad in shining arms the works invest, Each with a radiant helm and waving crest.

Stretch'd at their length, they press the grassy ground;They laugh, they sing, (the jolly bowls go round,)With lights and cheerful fires renew the day, And pass the wakeful night in feasts and play.

The Trojans, from above, their foes beheld, And with arm'd legions all the rampires fill'd.

Seiz'd with affright, their gates they first explore;Join works to works with bridges, tow'r to tow'r:

Thus all things needful for defense abound.

Mnestheus and brave Seresthus walk the round, Commission'd by their absent prince to share The common danger, and divide the care.

The soldiers draw their lots, and, as they fall, By turns relieve each other on the wall.

Nigh where the foes their utmost guards advance, To watch the gate was warlike Nisus' chance.

His father Hyrtacus of noble blood;

His mother was a huntress of the wood, And sent him to the wars.Well could he bear His lance in fight, and dart the flying spear, But better skill'd unerring shafts to send.

Beside him stood Euryalus, his friend:

Euryalus, than whom the Trojan host No fairer face, or sweeter air, could boast-Scarce had the down to shade his cheeks begun.

One was their care, and their delight was one:

One common hazard in the war they shar'd, And now were both by choice upon the guard.

Then Nisus thus: "Or do the gods inspire This warmth, or make we gods of our desire?

A gen'rous ardor boils within my breast, Eager of action, enemy to rest:

This urges me to fight, and fires my mind To leave a memorable name behind.

Thou see'st the foe secure; how faintly shine Their scatter'd fires! the most, in sleep supine Along the ground, an easy conquest lie:

The wakeful few the fuming flagon ply;

All hush'd around.Now hear what I revolve-A thought unripe- and scarcely yet resolve.

Our absent prince both camp and council mourn;By message both would hasten his return:

If they confer what I demand on thee, (For fame is recompense enough for me,)Methinks, beneath yon hill, I have espied A way that safely will my passage guide."Euryalus stood list'ning while he spoke, With love of praise and noble envy struck;Then to his ardent friend expos'd his mind:

"All this, alone, and leaving me behind!

Am I unworthy, Nisus, to be join'd?

Thinkist thou I can my share of glory yield, Or send thee unassisted to the field?

Not so my father taught my childhood arms;Born in a siege, and bred among alarms!

Nor is my youth unworthy of my friend, Nor of the heav'n-born hero I attend.

The thing call'd life, with ease I can disclaim, And think it over-sold to purchase fame."Then Nisus thus: "Alas! thy tender years Would minister new matter to my fears.

So may the gods, who view this friendly strife, Restore me to thy lov'd embrace with life, Condemn'd to pay my vows, (as sure I trust,)This thy request is cruel and unjust.