Aeneid II.706-804
Aeneas performs his most visually iconic moment. Vergil invents fridging. Book II draws to a close.
“Come then, dear father, clasp my neck: I will
carry you on my shoulders: that task won’t weigh on me.
Whatever may happen, it will be for us both, the same shared risk,
and the same salvation. Let little Iulus come with me,
and let my wife follow our footsteps at a distance.
You servants, give your attention to what I’m saying.
At the entrance to the city there’s a mound, an ancient temple
of forsaken Ceres, and a venerable cypress nearby,
protected through the years by the reverence of our fathers:
let’s head to that one place by diverse paths.
You, father, take the sacred objects and our country’s gods,
in your hands: until I’ve washed in running water,
it would be a sin for me, coming from such fighting
and recent slaughter, to touch them.” So saying, bowing my neck,
I spread a cloak made of a tawny lion’s hide over my broad
shoulders, and bend to the task: little Iulus clasps his hand
in mine and follows his father’s longer strides.
My wife walks behind. We walk on through the shadows
of places, and I whom till then no shower of spears,
nor crowd of Greeks in hostile array, could move,
now I’m terrified by every breeze, and startled by every noise,
anxious and fearful equally for my companion and my burden.
And now I was near the gates, and thought I had completed
my journey, when suddenly the sound of approaching feet
filled my hearing, and, peering through the darkness,
my father cried: “My son, run, my son, they are near us.
I see their glittering shields and gleaming bronze.”
Some hostile power, at this, scattered my muddled wits.
For while I was following alleyways, and straying
from the region of streets we knew, did my wife Creusa halt,
snatched away from me by wretched fate?
Or did she wander from the path or collapse with weariness?
Who knows? She was never restored to our sight,
nor did I look back for my lost one, or cast a thought behind me,1
until we came to the mound and ancient Ceres’s sacred place.
Here when all were gathered together at last, one was missing,
and had escaped the notice of friends, child, and husband.
What man or god did I not accuse in my madness:
what did I know of in the city’s fall crueller than this?
I place Ascanius and my father Anchises and the gods of Troy
in my companions’ care, and conceal them in a winding valley:
I myself seek the city once more, and take up my shining armour.
I’m determined to incur every risk again, and retrace
all Troy and once more expose my life to danger.
First I look for the wall, and the dark threshold of the gate
from which my path led, and I retrace the landmarks
of my course in the night, scanning them with my eye:
everywhere the terror in my heart, and the silence itself,
dismay me. Then I take myself homewards, in case
by chance, by some chance, she has made her way there.
The Greeks have invaded and occupied the whole house.
Suddenly eager fire rolls over the rooftop in the wind:
the flames take hold, the blaze rages to the heavens.
I pass by and see again Priam’s palace and the citadel.
Now Phoenix and fatal Ulysses, the chosen guards, watch over
the spoils in the empty courts of Juno’s sanctuary.
Here the Trojan treasures are gathered from every part,
ripped from the blazing shrines, tables of the gods,
solid gold bowls, and plundered robes.
Mothers and trembling sons stand round in long ranks.
I even dared to hurl my shouts through the shadows,
filling the streets with my clamour, and in my misery
redoubling my useless cries again and again.
Searching and raging endlessly among the city roofs,
the unhappy ghost and true shadow of Creusa
appeared before my eyes in a form greater than I’d known.
I was dumbfounded, my hair stood on end, and my voice
stuck in my throat. Then she spoke and with these words
mitigated my distress: “Oh sweet husband, what use is it
to indulge in such mad grief? This has not happened
without the divine will: neither its laws nor the ruler
of great Olympus let you take Creusa with you,
away from here. Yours is long exile, you must plough
a vast reach of sea: and you will come to Hesperia’s land,
where Lydian2 Tiber flows in gentle course among the farmers’
rich fields. There, happiness, kingship and a royal wife
will be yours. Banish these tears for your beloved Creusa.
I, a Trojan woman, and daughter-in-law to divine Venus,
shall never see the noble halls of the Dolopians
or Myrmidons3, or go as slave to some Greek wife:
instead the great mother of the gods keeps me on this shore.
Now farewell, and preserve your love for the son we share.”4
When she had spoken these words, leaving me weeping
and wanting to say so many things, she faded into thin air.
Three times I tried to throw my arms about her neck:
three times her form fled my hands, clasped in vain,
like the light breeze, most of all like a winged dream.
So at last when night was done, I returned to my friends.
And here, amazed, I found that a great number of new
companions had streamed in, women and men,
a crowd gathering for exile, a wretched throng.
They had come from all sides, ready, with courage and wealth,
for whatever land I wished to lead them to across the seas.
And now Lucifer5 was rising above the heights of Ida,
bringing the dawn, and the Greeks held the barricaded
entrances to the gates, nor was there any hope of rescue.
I desisted, and, carrying my father, took to the hills.
'ergo age, care pater, cervici imponere nostrae;
ipse subibo umeris nec me labor iste gravabit;
quo res cumque cadent, unum et commune periclum,
una salus ambobus erit. mihi parvus Iulus 710
sit comes, et longe servet vestigia coniunx.
vos, famuli, quae dicam animis advertite vestris.
est urbe egressis tumulus templumque vetustum
desertae Cereris, iuxtaque antiqua cupressus
religione patrum multos servata per annos; 715
hanc ex diverso sedem veniemus in unam.
tu, genitor, cape sacra manu patriosque penatis;
me bello e tanto digressum et caede recenti
attrectare nefas, donec me flumine vivo
abluero.' 720
haec fatus latos umeros subiectaque colla
veste super fulvique insternor pelle leonis,
succedoque oneri; dextrae se parvus Iulus
implicuit sequiturque patrem non passibus aequis;
pone subit coniunx. ferimur per opaca locorum, 725
et me, quem dudum non ulla iniecta movebant
tela neque adverso glomerati examine Grai,
nunc omnes terrent aurae, sonus excitat omnis
suspensum et pariter comitique onerique timentem.
iamque propinquabam portis omnemque videbar 730
evasisse viam, subito cum creber ad auris
visus adesse pedum sonitus, genitorque per umbram
prospiciens 'nate,' exclamat, 'fuge, nate; propinquant.
ardentis clipeos atque aera micantia cerno.'
hic mihi nescio quod trepido male numen amicum 735
confusam eripuit mentem. namque avia cursu
dum sequor et nota excedo regione viarum,
heu misero coniunx fatone erepta Creusa
substitit, erravitne via seu lapsa resedit,
incertum; nec post oculis est reddita nostris. 740
nec prius amissam respexi animumue reflexi
quam tumulum antiquae Cereris sedemque sacratam
venimus: hic demum collectis omnibus una
defuit, et comites natumque virumque fefellit.
quem non incusavi amens hominumque deorumque, 745
aut quid in eversa vidi crudelius urbe?
Ascanium Anchisenque patrem Teucrosque penatis
commendo sociis et curva valle recondo;
ipse urbem repeto et cingor fulgentibus armis.
stat casus renovare omnis omnemque reverti 750
per Troiam et rursus caput obiectare periclis.
principio muros obscuraque limina portae,
qua gressum extuleram, repeto et vestigia retro
observata sequor per noctem et lumine lustro:
horror ubique animo, simul ipsa silentia terrent. 755
inde domum, si forte pedem, si forte tulisset,
me refero: inruerant Danai et tectum omne tenebant.
ilicet ignis edax summa ad fastigia vento
voluitur; exsuperant flammae, furit aestus ad auras.
procedo et Priami sedes arcemque reviso: 760
et iam porticibus vacuis Iunonis asylo
custodes lecti Phoenix et dirus Ulixes
praedam adservabant. huc undique Troia gaza
incensis erepta adytis, mensaeque deorum
crateresque auro solidi, captivaque vestis 765
congeritur. pueri et pavidae longo ordine matres
stant circum.
ausus quin etiam voces iactare per umbram
implevi clamore vias, maestusque Creusam
nequiquam ingeminans iterumque iterumque vocavi. 770
quaerenti et tectis urbis sine fine ruenti
infelix simulacrum atque ipsius umbra Creusae
visa mihi ante oculos et nota maior imago.
obstipui, steteruntque comae et uox faucibus haesit.
tum sic adfari et curas his demere dictis: 775
'quid tantum insano iuvat indulgere dolori,
o dulcis coniunx? non haec sine numine divum
eveniunt; nec te comitem hinc portare Creusam
fas, aut ille sinit superi regnator Olympi.
longa tibi exsilia et vastum maris aequor arandum, 780
et terram Hesperiam venies, ubi Lydius arva
inter opima virum leni fluit agmine Thybris.
illic res laetae regnumque et regia coniunx
parta tibi; lacrimas dilectae pelle Creusae.
non ego Myrmidonum sedes Dolopumue superbas 785
aspiciam aut Grais servitum matribus ibo,
Dardanis et divae Veneris nurus;
sed me magna deum genetrix his detinet oris.
iamque vale et nati serva communis amorem.'
haec ubi dicta dedit, lacrimantem et multa volentem 790
dicere deseruit, tenuisque recessit in auras.
ter conatus ibi collo dare bracchia circum;
ter frustra comprensa manus effugit imago,
par levibus ventis volucrique simillima somno.
sic demum socios consumpta nocte reviso. 795
Atque hic ingentem comitum adfluxisse novorum
invenio admirans numerum, matresque virosque,
collectam exsilio pubem, miserabile vulgus.
undique convenere animis opibusque parati
in quascumque velim pelago deducere terras. 800
iamque iugis summae surgebat Lucifer Idae
ducebatque diem, Danaique obsessa tenebant
limina portarum, nec spes opis ulla dabatur.
cessi et sublato montis genitore petivi.
Find the glossary for Aeneid Daily here; subscribe to receive daily posts.
Something of a reverse Orpheus and Eurydice, according to my professor: he loses her because he doesn’t look back.
Lydia = a region of Asia Minor where the Etruscans (an Italian people) originated.
Myrmidons were Greeks, the Dolopians Greek allies. The end of the Trojan war saw surviving Trojan women taken as captives/war prizes by Greek men (eg. Cassandra by Agamemnon in the Oresteia).
My professor noted that women in this poem tend to either align with empire or fight/rail against it. Creusa here makes herself a pro-imperial sacrifice; she cannot be a part of Aeneas’s fate, and so she is subsumed by it.
The dawn star, not the devil.