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Browsing named entities in P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams). You can also browse the collection for Troy (Turkey) or search for Troy (Turkey) in all documents.

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P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 11, line 399 (search)
War will not save us? Fling that prophecy on the doomed Dardan's head, or on thy own, thou madman! Aye, with thy vile, craven soul disturb the general cause. Extol the power of a twice-vanquished people, and decry Latinus' rival arms. From this time forth let all the Myrmidonian princes cower before the might of Troy; let Diomed and let Achilles tremble; let the stream of Aufidus in panic backward flow from Hadria's wave. But hear me when I say that though his guilt and cunning feign to feel fear of my vengeance, much embittering so his taunts and insult—such a life as his my sword disdains. O Drances, be at ease! In thy vile bosom let thy breath abide! But now of thy grave counsel and thy cause, O royal sire, I speak. If from this hour thou castest hope of armed success away, if we be so unfriended that one rout o'erwhelms us utterly, if Fortune's feet never turn backward, let us, then, for peace offer petition, lifting to the foe our feeble, suppliant hands. Yet would I pray some spa
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 11, line 836 (search)
Fair Opis, keeping guard for Trivia in patient sentry on a lofty hill, beheld unterrified the conflict's rage. Yet when, amid the frenzied shouts of soldiery, she saw from far Camilla pay the doom of piteous death, with deep-drawn voice of sight she thus complained: “O virgin, woe is me! Too much, too much, this agony of thine, to expiate that thou didst lift thy spear for wounding Troy. It was no shield in war, nor any vantage to have kept thy vow to chaste Diana in the thorny wild. Our maiden arrows at thy shoulder slung availed thee not! Yet will our Queen divine not leave unhonored this thy dying day, nor shall thy people let thy death remain a thing forgot, nor thy bright name appear a glory unavenged. Whoe'er he be that marred thy body with the mortal wound shall die as he deserves.” Beneath that hill an earth-built mound uprose, the tomb of King Dercennus, a Laurentine old, by sombre ilex shaded: thither hied the fair nymph at full speed, and from the mound looked round for Arru
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 12, line 529 (search)
ed the shaft that pierced it; in his cloven brain it clung. Nor could thy sword, O Cretheus, save thee then from Turnus, though of bravest Greeks the peer; nor did Cupencus' gods their priest defend against Aeneas, but his breast he gave unto the hostile blade; his brazen shield delayed no whit his miserable doom. Thee also, Aeolus, Laurentum saw spread thy huge body dying on the ground; yea, dying, thou whom Greeks in serried arms subdued not, nor Achilles' hand that hurled the throne of Priam down: here didst thou touch thy goal of death; one stately house was thine on Ida's mountain, at Lyrnessus, one; Laurentum's hallowed earth was but thy grave. Now the whole host contends; all Latium meets all Ilium; Mnestheus and Serestus bold; Messapus, the steed-breaker, and high-soured Asilas; Tuscans in a phalanx proud; Arcadian riders of Evander's train: each warrior lifts him to his height supreme of might and skill; no sloth nor lingering now, but in one far-spread conflict all contend.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 12, line 614 (search)
s worked his will; and now wind-wafted to his straining ear a nameless horror came, a dull, wild roar, the city's tumult and distressful cry. “Alack,” he cried, “what stirs in yonder walls such anguish? Or why rings from side to side such wailing through the city?” Asking so, he tightened frantic grasp upon the rein. To him his sister, counterfeiting still the charioteer Metiscus, while she swayed rein, steeds, and chariot, this answer made: “Hither, my Turnus, let our arms pursue the sons of Troy. Here lies the nearest way to speedy triumph. There be other swords to keep yon city safe. Aeneas now storms against Italy in active war; we also on this Trojan host may hurl grim havoc. Nor shalt thou the strife give o'er in glory second, nor in tale of slain.” Turnus replied, “O sister, Iong ago I knew thee what thou wert, when guilefully thou didst confound their treaty, and enlist thy whole heart in this war. No Ionger now thy craft divine deceives me. But what god compelled thee,
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 12, line 697 (search)
But Sire Aeneas, hearing Turnus' name, down the steep rampart from the citadel unlingering tried, all lesser task laid by, with joy exultant and dread-thundering arms. Like Athos' crest he loomed, or soaring top of Eryx, when the nodding oaks resound, or sovereign Apennine that lifts in air his forehead of triumphant snow. All eyes of Troy, Rutulia, and Italy were fixed his way; and all who kept a guard on lofty rampart, or in siege below were battering the foundations, now laid by their implements and arms. Latinus too stood awestruck to behold such champions, born in lands far-sundered, met upon one field for one decisive stroke of sword with sword. Swift striding forth where spread the vacant plain, they hurled their spears from far; then in close fight the brazen shields rang. Beneath their tread Earth groaned aloud, as with redoubling blows their falchions fell; nor could a mortal eye 'twixt chance and courage the dread work divide. As o'er Taburnus' top, or spacious hills of Sil
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 12, line 728 (search)
Soon Turnus, reckless of the risk, leaped forth, upreached his whole height to his lifted sword, and struck: the Trojans and the Latins pale cried mightily, and all eyes turned one way expectant. But the weak, perfidious sword broke off, and as the blow descended, failed its furious master, whose sole succor now was flight; and swifter than the wind he flew. But, lo! a hilt of form and fashion strange lay in his helpless hand. For in his haste, when to the battle-field his team he drove, his father's sword forgotten (such the tale), he snatched Metiscus' weapon. This endured to strike at Trojan backs, as he pursued, but when on Vulcan's armory divine its earthly metal smote, the brittle blade broke off like ice, and o'er the yellow sands in flashing fragments scattered. Turnus now takes mad flight o'er the distant plain, and winds in wavering gyration round and round; for Troy's close ring confines him, and one way a wide swamp lies, one way a frowning wall.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 12, line 791 (search)
fate is not denied; for Latium's good I sue, and high prerogatives of men that be thy kith and kin: when happy wedlock vows (aye, be it so!) shall join them by strong laws of chartered peace, let not the Latins Iose their ancient, native name. Bid them not pass for Trojans, nor be hailed as Teucer's sons; no alien speech, no alien garb impose. Let it be Latium ever; let the lords of Alba unto distant ages reign; let the strong, master blood of Rome receive the manhood and the might of Italy. Troy perished: let its name and glory die!” The Author of mankind and all that is, smiling benignant, answered thus her plea: “Jove's sister true, and Saturn's second child, what seas of anger vex thy heart divine! But come, relinquish thy rash, fruitless rage: I give thee this desire, and yield to thee free submission. The Ausonian tribes shall keep the speech and customs of their sires; the name remains as now; the Teucrian race, abiding in the land, shall but infuse the mixture of its blood. I
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