{"product_id":"the-aeneid-of-virgil-isbn-9780553210415","title":"The Aeneid of Virgil","description":"Aeneas flees the ashes of Troy to found the city of Rome and change forever the course of the Western world--as literature as well.  Virgil's \u003ci\u003eAeneid\u003c\/i\u003e is as eternal as Rome itself, a sweeping epic of arms and heroism--the searching portrait of a man caught between love and duty, human feeling and the force of fate--that has influenced writers for over 2,000 years.  Filled with drama, passion, and the universal pathos that only a masterpiece can express. \u003ci\u003eThe Aeneid\u003c\/i\u003e is a book for all the time and all people.\"Allen Mandelbaum has produced a living \u003ci\u003eAeneid\u003c\/i\u003e, a version that is unmistakably poetry.\" -- Erich Segal, \u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A brilliant translation; the only one since Dryden which reads like English verse and conveys some of the majesty and pathos of the original.\" -- Bernard M. W. Knox\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Mandelbaum has... given us a contemporary experience of the masterpiece, at last.\" -- David IgnatowThroughout his life Virgil was a poet and as far as we know had no interest in pursuing any other career. He was born Publius Vergilius Maro in 70 BC near Mantua, in what now is northern Italy. His parents, farm owners, were people of property and substance, if not wealth, and were able to obtain for their son a first-rate education. On completing his education, he returned home and possibly began work on the Eclogues, which appeared between the years of 42 and 37 BC. In 41 BC, the Emperor Octavian (later known as Augustus) confiscated Virgil's family's property, and Virgil was obliged to travel to Rome to negotiate for its return. Fortunately for Virgil, one of the officials secured for him an introduction to the emperor; not only was his land returned, but he also met Octavian's confidant Maecenas, who became Virgil's patron for the rest of his life. An industrious, meticulous writer, Virgil was not prolific. In addition to the ten Eclogues, which apparently took at least five years to publish, Virgil wrote the four \u003cb\u003eGeorgics\u003c\/b\u003e, which took seven years, and the \u003cb\u003eAeneid\u003c\/b\u003e, his great masterwork. Virgil worked on the \u003cb\u003eAeneid\u003c\/b\u003e for eleven years, until his death in 19 BC. Feeling, apparently, that the epic was still unfinished, he directed in his will that the manuscript be destroyed. To the great fortune of succeeding generations, the emperor, Virgil's most prominent friend and admirer, intervened to countermand this provision. He turned the manuscript over to two of Virgil's friends, Varius and Tucca, to edit only obvious errors and repetitions, without adding to the text. The result of their work is the beautiful and brilliant \u003cb\u003eAeneid\u003c\/b\u003e we have today.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eAllen Mendelbaum's\u003c\/b\u003e five verse volumes are: \u003ci\u003eChelmaxions\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eThe Savantasse of Montparnasse\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eJourneyman\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eLeaves of Absence\u003c\/i\u003e; and \u003ci\u003eA Lied of Letterpress\u003c\/i\u003e. His volumes of verse translation include \u003ci\u003eThe Aeneid of Virgil\u003c\/i\u003e, a University of California Press volume (now available from Bantam) for which he won a National Book Award; the \u003ci\u003eInferno\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003ePurgatorio\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eParadiso\u003c\/i\u003e volumes of the California Dante (now available from Bantam); \u003ci\u003eThe Odyssey of Homer\u003c\/i\u003e (now available from Bantam); \u003ci\u003eThe Metamorphoses of Ovid\u003c\/i\u003e, a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in poetry; \u003ci\u003eOvid in Sicily\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eSelected Poems of Giuseppe Ungaretti\u003c\/i\u003e; \u003ci\u003eSelected Writings of Salvatore Quasimodo\u003c\/i\u003e; and \u003ci\u003eDavid Maria Turoldo\u003c\/i\u003e. Mandelbaum is co-editor with Robert Richardson Jr. of \u003ci\u003eThree Centuries of American Poetry\u003c\/i\u003e (Bantam Books) and, with Yehuda Amichai, of the eight volumes of the JPS Jewish Poetry Series. After receiving his Ph.D. from Columbia, he was in the Society of Fellows at Harvard. While chairman of the Ph.D. program in English at the Graduate Center of CUNY, he was a visiting professor at Washington University in St. Louis, and at the universities of Houston, Denver, Colorado, and Purdue. His honorary degrees are from Notre Dame University, Purdue University, the University of Assino, and the University of Torino. He received the Gold Medal of Honor from the city of Florence in 2000, celebrating the 735th anniversary of Dante's birth, the only translator to be so honored; and in 2003 he received the President of Italy's award for translation. He is now Professor of the History of Literary Criticism at the University of Turin and the W.R. Kenan Professor of Humanities at Wake Forest University.Book I\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI sing of arms and of a man: his fate had made him fugitive; he was the first\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto journey from the coasts of Troy as far\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas Italy and the Lavinian shores.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAcross the lands and waters he was battered     5\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebeneath the violence of High Ones, for\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe savage Juno's unforgetting anger;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand many sufferings were his in war-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003euntil he brought a city into being\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand carried in his gods to Latium;      10\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrom this have come the Latin race, the lords\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Alba, and the ramparts of high Rome.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTell me the reason, Muse: what was the wound\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto her divinity, so hurting her\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat she, the queen of gods, compelled a man    15\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eremarkable for goodness to endure\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso many crises, meet so many trials?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCan such resentment hold the minds of gods?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere was an ancient city they called Carthage-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea colony of refugees from Tyre- 20\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea city facing Italy, but far\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eaway from Tiber's mouth: extremely rich\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand, when it came to waging war, most fierce.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis land was Juno's favorite-it is said-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emore dear than her own Samos; here she kept     25\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher chariot and armor; even then\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe goddess had this hope and tender plan:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor Carthage to become the capital\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof nations, if the Fates would just consent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut she had heard that, from the blood of Troy, 30\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea race had come that some day would destroy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe citadels of Tyre; from it, a people\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewould spring, wide-ruling kings, men proud in battle\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand destined to annihilate her Libya.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Fates had so decreed. And Saturn's daughter-        35\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein fear of this, remembering the old war\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat she had long since carried on at Troy\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor her beloved Argos (and, indeed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe causes of her bitterness, her sharp\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand savage hurt, had not yet left her spirit;   40\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor deep within her mind lie stored the judgment\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Paris and the wrong done to her scorned\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebeauty, the breed she hated, and the honors\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat had been given ravished Ganymede)-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewas angered even more; for this, she kept       45\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efar off from Latium the Trojan remnant\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eleft by the Greeks and pitiless Achilles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor long years they were cast across all waters,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efate-driven, wandering from sea to sea.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was so hard to found the race of Rome.       50\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith Sicily scarce out of sight, the Trojans\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehad gladly spread their canvas on the sea,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eturning the salt foam with their brazen prows,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen Juno, holding fast within her heart\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe everlasting insult, asked herself:  55\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Am I, defeated, simply to stop trying,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eunable to turn back the Trojan king\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrom Italy? No doubt, the Fates won't have it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut Pallas-was she powerful enough\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto set the Argive fleet on fire, to drown       60\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe crewmen in the deep, for an outrage done\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eby only one infuriated man,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAjax, Oileus' son? And she herself\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecould fling Jove's racing lightning from the clouds\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand smash their galleys, sweep the sea with tempests.   65\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen Ajax' breath was flame from his pierced chest;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe caught him up within a whirlwind; she\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eimpaled him on a pointed rock. But I,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe queen of gods, who stride along as both\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe sister and the wife of Jove, have warred    70\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso many years against a single nation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor after this, will anyone adore\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe majesty of Juno or, before\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher altars, pay her honor, pray to her?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen-burning, pondering-the goddess reaches     75\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAeolia, the motherland of storms,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea womb that always teems with raving south winds.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn his enormous cave King Aeolus\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003erestrains the wrestling winds, loud hurricanes;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe tames and sways them with his chains and prison.     80\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey rage in indignation at their cages;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe mountain answers with a mighty roar.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLord Aeolus sits in his high citadel;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe holds his scepter, and he soothes their souls\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand calms their madness. Were it not for this,  85\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethen surely they would carry off the sea\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand lands and steepest heaven, sweeping them\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eacross the emptiness. But fearing that,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe all-able Father hid the winds within\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edark caverns, heaping over them high mountains; 90\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand he assigned to them a king who should,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eby Jove's sure edict, understand just when\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto jail and when, commanded, to set free.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen Juno, suppliant, appealed to him:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You, Aeolus-to whom the king of men    95\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand father of the gods has given this:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto pacify the waves or, with the wind,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto incite them-over the Tyrrhenian\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enow sails my enemy, a race that carries\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe beaten household gods of Ilium      100\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto Italy. Hammer your winds to fury\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand ruin their swamped ships, or scatter them\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand fling their crews piecemeal across the seas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI have twice-seven nymphs with splendid bodies;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe loveliest of them is Deiopea,       105\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand I shall join her to you in sure marriage\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand name her as your own, that she may spend\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eall of her years with you, to make you father\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof fair sons. For such service, such return.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd Aeolus replied: \"O Queen, your task 110\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis to discover what you wish; and mine,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto act at your command. For you have won\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethis modest kingdom for me, and my scepter,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand Jove's goodwill. You gave me leave to lean\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebeside the banquets of the gods, and you        115\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehave made me lord of tempests and of clouds.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis words were done. He turned his lance head, struck\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe hollow mountain on its side. The winds,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eas in a column, hurry through the breach;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey blow across the earth in a tornado.        120\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTogether, Eurus, Notus, and-with tempest\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eon tempest-Africus attack the sea;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey churn the very bottom of the deep\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand roll vast breakers toward the beaches; cries\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof men, the creaking of the cables rise.        125\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen, suddenly, the cloud banks snatch away\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe sky and daylight from the Trojans' eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBlack night hangs on the waters, heavens thunder,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand frequent lightning glitters in the air;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeverything intends quick death to men.  130\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt once Aeneas' limbs fall slack with chill.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe groans and stretches both hands to the stars.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe calls aloud: \"O, three and four times blessed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewere those who died before their fathers' eyes\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebeneath the walls of Troy. Strongest of all     135\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe Danaans, o Diomedes, why\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edid your right hand not spill my lifeblood, why\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edid I not fall upon the Ilian fields,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethere where ferocious Hector lies, pierced by\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAchilles' javelin, where the enormous   140\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSarpedon now is still, and Simois\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehas seized and sweeps beneath its waves so many\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehelmets and shields and bodies of the brave!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e*  *  *\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAeneas hurled these words. The hurricane\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis howling from the north; it hammers full      145\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eagainst his sails. The seas are heaved to heaven.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe oars are cracked; the prow sheers off; the waves\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eattack broadside; against his hull the swell\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enow shatters in a heap, mountainous, steep.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSome sailors hang upon a wave crest; others     150\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estare out at gaping waters, land that lies\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebelow the waters, surge that seethes with sand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd then the south wind snatches up three ships\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand spins their keels against the hidden rocks-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethose rocks that, rising in midsea, are called  155\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eby the Italians \"Altars\"-like a monstrous\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003espine stretched along the surface of the sea.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMeanwhile the east wind wheels another three\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eoff from the deep and, terrible to see,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eagainst the shoals and shifting silt, against   160\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe shallows, girding them with mounds of sand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBefore Aeneas' eyes a massive breaker\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esmashes upon its stern the ship that carries\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe Lycian crewmen led by true Orontes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe helmsman is beaten down; he is whirled headlong.    165\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThree times at that same spot the waters twist\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand wheel the ship around until a swift\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhirlpool has swallowed it beneath the swell.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd here and there upon the wide abyss,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eamong the waves, are swimmers, weapons, planks, 170\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand Trojan treasure. Now the tempest takes\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe sturdy galleys of Ilioneus\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand brave Achates, now the ships of Abas\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand many-yeared Aletes; all receive\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etheir enemy, the sea, through loosened joints   175\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ealong their sides and through their gaping seams.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut Neptune felt the fracas and the frenzy;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand shaken by the unleashed winds, the wrenching\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof the still currents from the deep seabed,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe raised his tranquil head above the surface.  180\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd he can see the galleys of Aeneas\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003escattered across the waters, with the Trojans\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edismembered by the waves and fallen heavens.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer brother did not miss the craft and wrath\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Juno. Catching that, he calls up both        185\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe east wind and the west. His words are these:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Has pride of birth made you so insolent?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo, Winds, you dare to mingle sky and land,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eheave high such masses, without my command?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhom I-? But no, let me first calm the restless 190\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eswell; you shall yet atone-another time-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith different penalties for these your crimes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut now be off, and tell your king these things:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat not to him, but me, has destiny\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eallotted the dominion of the sea        195\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand my fierce trident. The enormous rocks\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eare his-your home, East Wind. Let Aeolus\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebe lord of all that lies within that hall\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand rule in that pent prison of the winds.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo Neptune speaks and, quicker than his tongue, 200\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebrings quiet to the swollen waters, sets\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe gathered clouds to flight, calls back the sun.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTogether, then, Cymothoë and Triton,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethrusting, dislodge the ships from jagged crags.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut now the god himself takes up his trident    205\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto lift the galleys, and he clears a channel\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eacross the vast sandbank. He stills the sea\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand glides along the waters on light wheels.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd just as, often, when a crowd of people\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis rocked by a rebellion, and the rabble        210\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003erage in their minds, and firebrands and stones\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efly fast-for fury finds its weapons-if,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eby chance, they see a man remarkable\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor righteousness and service, they are silent\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand stand attentively; and he controls  215\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etheir passion by his words and cools their spirits:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso all the clamor of the sea subsided\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eafter the Father, gazing on the waters\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand riding under cloudless skies, had guided\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis horses, let his willing chariot run.        220\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd now Aeneas' weary crewmen hurry\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto find the nearest land along their way.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey turn toward Libya's coast. There is a cove\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewithin a long, retiring bay; and there\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ean island's jutting arms have formed a harbor   225\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhere every breaker off the high sea shatters\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand parts into the shoreline's winding shelters.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlong this side and that there towers, vast,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea line of cliffs, each ending in like crags;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebeneath the ledges tranquil water lies  230\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esilent and wide; the backdrop-glistening\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eforests and, beetling from above, a black\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egrove, thick with bristling shadows. Underneath\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe facing brow: a cave with hanging rocks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esweet waters, seats of living stone, the home   235\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof nymphs. And here no cable holds tired ships,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eno anchor grips them fast with curving bit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAeneas shelters here with seven ships-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eall he can muster, all the storm has left.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Trojans, longing so to touch the land,      240\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enow disembark to gain the wished-for sands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey stretch their salt-soaked limbs along the beach.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAchates was the first to strike a spark\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrom flint and catch the fire up with leaves.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe spread dry fuel about, and then he waved     245\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe tinder into flame. Tired of their trials,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe Trojan crewmen carry out the tools\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Ceres and the sea-drenched corn of Ceres.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd they prepare to parch the salvaged grain\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eby fire and, next, to crush it under stone.     250\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMeanwhile Aeneas climbs a crag to seek\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea prospect far and wide across the deep,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif he can only make out anything\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Antheus and his Phrygian galleys, or\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Capys, or the armor of Caicus        255\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eon his high stern. There is no ship in sight;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eall he can see are three stags wandering\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ealong the shore, with whole herds following\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebehind, a long line grazing through the valley.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe halted, snatched his bow and racing arrows,  260\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe weapons carried by the true Achates.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd first he lays the leaders low, their heads\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eheld high with tree-like antlers; then he drives\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe herds headlong into the leafy groves;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey panic, like a rabble, at his arrows.       265\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe does not stay his hand until he stretches,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003evictoriously, seven giant bodies\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ealong the ground, in number like his galleys.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis done, he seeks the harbor and divides\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe meat among his comrades. And he shares      270\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe wine that had been stowed by kind Acestes\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein casks along the shores of Sicily:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe wine that, like a hero, the Sicilian\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehad given to the Trojans when they left.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAeneas soothes their melancholy hearts: 275\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"O comrades-surely we're not ignorant\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof earlier disasters, we who have suffered\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethings heavier than this-our god will give\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ean end to this as well. You have neared the rage\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Scylla and her caves' resounding rocks;      280\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand you have known the Cyclops' crags; call back\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eyour courage, send away your grieving fear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePerhaps one day you will remember even\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethese our adversities with pleasure. Through\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso many crises and calamities   285\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewe make for Latium, where fates have promised\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea peaceful settlement. It is decreed\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat there the realm of Troy will rise again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHold out, and save yourselves for kinder days.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThese are his words; though sick with heavy cares,      290\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe counterfeits hope in his face; his pain\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis held within, hidden. His men make ready\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe game that is to be their feast; they flay\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe deer hide off the ribs; the flesh lies naked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSome slice off quivering strips and pierce them with    295\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esharp spits, while on the beach the others set\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecaldrons of brass and tend the flame. With food\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etheir strength comes back again. Along the grass\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey stretch and fill their bellies full of fat\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003evenison meat and well-aged wine. That done-     300\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etheir hunger banished by their feasting and\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe tables cleared-their talk is long, uncertain\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebetween their hope and fear, as they ask after\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etheir lost companions, wondering if their comrades\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eare still alive or if they have undergone       305\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe final change and can no longer hear\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen called upon. Especially the pious\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAeneas moans within himself the loss\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enow of the vigorous Orontes, now\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Amycus, the cruel end of Lycus,      310\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe doom of brave Cloanthus, of brave Gyas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTheir food and talk were done when Jupiter,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhile gazing from the peaks of upper air\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eacross the waters winged with canvas and\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elow-lying lands and shores and widespread people,       315\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estood high upon the pinnacle of heaven\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003euntil he set his sight on Libya's kingdom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd as he ponders this, the saddened Venus,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher bright eyes dimmed and tearful, speaks to him:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"O you who, with eternal rule, command  320\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand govern the events of gods and men,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand terrify them with your thunderbolt,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhat great offense has my Aeneas given,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhat is his crime, what have the Trojans done\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat, having undergone so many deaths,  325\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe circle of all lands is shut against them-\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand just because of Italy? Surely\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e--  PrePress Department Westchester Book 4 Old Newtown Road Danbury CT 06810 Voice: 1-203-791-0080 Fax:   1-203-791-9286 e-mail: prepress@wbrt.com","brand":"Bantam Classics","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301920395493,"sku":"NP9780553210415","price":6.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780553210415.jpg?v=1767738017","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/the-aeneid-of-virgil-isbn-9780553210415","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}