Page:The Aeneid of Virgil JOHN CONINGTON 1917 V2.pdf/188

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settled rule of peace, to spare the humbled, and to crush the proud."

Father Anchises paused; and, as they wondered, went on to say: "See how Marcellus advances in the glory of the general's spoils, towering with conqueror's majesty 5 over all the warriors near! When the state of Rome reels under the invader's shock, he shall stay it; his horse's hoofs shall trample the Carthaginian and the revolted Gaul; and he shall dedicate the third suit of armour to Quirinus[o] the sire." Hereupon Æneas, for he saw walking 10 at Marcellus' side a youth of goodly presence and in gleaming armour, but with little joy on his brow and downcast eyes: "Who, my father, is he that thus attends the warrior's march? his son, or one of the glorious line of his posterity? What a hum runs through the attendant 15 train! how lofty his own mien! but the shadow of gloomy night hovers saddening round his head." Father Anchises began, tears gushing forth the while: "Alas, my son! ask not of the heavy grief that those of your blood must bear. Of him the fates shall give but a glimpse to earth, 20 nor suffer him to continue longer. Yes, powers of the sky! Rome's race would have been in your eyes too strong, had a boon like this been its own forever. What groanings of the brave shall be wafted from Mars' broad field to Mars' mighty town! What a funeral, father 25 Tiber, shall thine eyes behold, as thou flowest past that new-built sepulchre! No child of the stock of Ilion shall raise his Latian ancestors to such heights of hope: never while time lasts shall the land of Romulus take such pride in any that she has reared. Woe for the piety, for the 30 ancient faith, for the arm unconquered in battle! Never would foeman have met that armed presence unscathed, marched he on foot into the field or tore with bloody spur the flank of his foaming steed. Child of a nation's sorrow! were there hope of thy breaking the tyranny of fate, thou 35 shalt be Marcellus. Bring me handfuls of lilies, that I may strew the grave with their dazzling hues, and crown, if only with these gifts, my young descendant's shade, and