Home Introduction Persons Geogr. Sources Events Mijn blog(Nederlands)
Religion Subjects Images Queries Links Contact Do not fly Iberia
This is a non-commercial site. Any revenues from Google ads are used to improve the site.

Custom Search
Quote of the day: To all this was added Galba's own expres
Notes
Display Latin text
The Aeneid by Virgil
translated by Theodore C. Williams
Book IX Chapter 17: The mother of Euryalus
Next chapter
Return to index
Previous chapter
On restless pinions to the trembling town
had voiceful Rumor hied, and to the ears
of that lone mother of Euryalus
relentless flown. Through all her feeble frame
the chilling sorrow sped. From both her hands
dropped web and shuttle; she flew shrieking forth,
ill-fated mother! and with tresses torn,
to the wide ramparts and the battle-line
ran frantic, heeding naught of men-at-arms,
nor peril nor the rain of falling spears;
and thus with loud and lamentable cry
filled all the air: Is it in yonder guise,
Euryalus, thou comest? Art thou he,
last comfort of my life? O cruel one!
Couldst thou desert me? When they thrust thee forth
to death and danger, did they dare refuse
a wretched mother's last embrace? But now --
O woe is me! -- upon this alien shore
thou liest for a feast to Latin dogs
and carrion birds. Nor did thy mother lead
the mourners to thy grave, nor shut those eyes,
nor wash the dreadful wounds, nor cover thee
with the fair shroud, which many a night and day
I swiftly wove, and at my web and loom
forgot my years and sorrows. Whither now
to seek and follow thee? What spot of earth
holds the torn body and the mangled limbs?
Is all the gift thou bringest home, dear child,
this? O, was this the prize for which I came
o'er land and sea? O, stab me very deep,
if ye have any pity; hurl on me
your every spear, Rutulians; make of me
your swords' first work. Or, Father of the gods!
Show mercy, thou! and with thy lightning touch
this head accurst, and let it fall by thee
down to the dark. For else what power is mine
my tortured life to end? Her agony
smote on their listening souls; a wail of woe
along the concourse ran. Stern men-at-arms
felt valor for a moment sleep, and all
their rage of battle fail. But while she stirred
the passion of her grief, Ilioneus
and young Iulus, weeping filial tears,
bade Actor and Idaeus, lifting her
in both their reverent arms, to bear her home.

Event: Sortie of Nisus and Euryalis

473-502
Interea pauidam uolitans pennata per urbem
nuntia Fama ruit matrisque adlabitur auris
Euryali. at subitus miserae calor ossa reliquit,
excussi manibus radii reuolutaque pensa.
euolat infelix et femineo ululatu
scissa comam muros amens atque agmina cursu
prima petit, non illa uirum, non illa pericli
telorumque memor, caelum dehinc questibus implet:
'hunc ego te, Euryale, aspicio? tune ille senectae
sera meae requies, potuisti linquere solam,
crudelis? nec te sub tanta pericula missum
adfari extremum miserae data copia matri?
heu, terra ignota canibus data praeda Latinis
alitibusque iaces! nec te tua funere mater
produxi pressiue oculos aut uulnera laui,
ueste tegens tibi quam noctes festina diesque
urgebam, et tela curas solabar anilis.
quo sequar? aut quae nunc artus auulsaque membra
et funus lacerum tellus habet? hoc mihi de te,
nate, refers? hoc sum terraque marique secuta?
figite me, si qua est pietas, in me omnia tela
conicite, o Rutuli, me primam absumite ferro;
aut tu, magne pater diuum, miserere, tuoque
inuisum hoc detrude caput sub Tartara telo,
quando aliter nequeo crudelem abrumpere uitam.'
hoc fletu concussi animi, maestusque per omnis
it gemitus, torpent infractae ad proelia uires.
illam incendentem luctus Idaeus et Actor
Ilionei monitu et multum lacrimantis Iuli
corripiunt interque manus sub tecta reponunt.