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Hesiod, Works and Days 4 0 Browse Search
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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 4, line 331 (search)
eamed. Nay, I did never light a bridegroom's torch, nor gave I thee the vow of marriage. Had my destiny decreed, that I should shape life to my heart's desire, and at my own will put away the weight of foil and pain, my place would now be found in Troy, among the cherished sepulchres of my own kin, and Priam's mansion proud were standing still; or these my loyal hands had rebuilt Ilium for her vanquished sons. But now to Italy Apollo's power commands me forth; his Lycian oracles are loud for ItaIlium for her vanquished sons. But now to Italy Apollo's power commands me forth; his Lycian oracles are loud for Italy. My heart is there, and there my fatherland. If now the towers of Carthage and thy Libyan colony delight thy Tyrian eyes; wilt thou refuse to Trojan exiles their Ausonian shore? I too by Fate was driven, not less than thou, to wander far a foreign throne to find. Oft when in dewy dark night hides the world, and flaming stars arise, Anchises' shade looks on me in my dreams with angered brow. I think of my Ascanius, and the wrong to that dear heart, from whom I steal away Hesperia, his destine
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 4, line 416 (search)
of his heart; since thou alone hast known what way, what hour the man would yield to soft persuasion—therefore, sister, haste, and humbly thus implore our haughty foe: ‘I was not with the Greeks what time they swore at Aulis to cut off the seed of Troy; I sent no ships to Ilium. Pray, have I profaned Anchises' tomb, or vexed his shade?’ Why should his ear be deaf and obdurate to all I say? What haste? May he not make one last poor offering to her whose love is only pain? O, bid him but delay tilIlium. Pray, have I profaned Anchises' tomb, or vexed his shade?’ Why should his ear be deaf and obdurate to all I say? What haste? May he not make one last poor offering to her whose love is only pain? O, bid him but delay till flight be easy and the winds blow fair. I plead no more that bygone marriage-vow by him forsworn, nor ask that he should lose his beauteous Latium and his realm to be. Nothing but time I crave! to give repose and more room to this fever, till my fate teach a crushed heart to sorrow. I implore this last grace. (To thy sister's grief be kind!) I will requite with increase, till
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 5, line 183 (search)
But Mnestheus and Sergestus, coming last, have joyful hope enkindled in each heart to pass the laggard Gyas. In the lead Sergestus' ship shoots forth; and to the rock runs boldly nigh; but not his whole long keel may pass his rival; the projecting beak is followed fast by Pristis' emulous prow. Then, striding straight amidships through his crew, thus Mnestheus urged them on: “O Hector's friends! Whom in the dying hours of Troy I chose for followers! Now stand ye to your best! Put forth the thews of valor that ye showed in the Gaetulian Syrtes, or that sea Ionian, or where the waves race by the Malean promontory! Mnestheus now hopes not to be the first, nor do I strive for victory. O Father Neptune, give that garland where thou wilt! But O, the shame if we are last! Endure it not, my men! The infamy refuse!” So, bending low, they enter the home-stretch. Beneath their stroke the brass-decked galley throbs, and under her the sea-floor drops away. On, on they fly! Parched are the panting l
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 5, line 244 (search)
aithful hound bayed fiercely at the air. To him whose worth the second place had won, Aeneas gave a smooth-linked golden corselet, triple-chained, of which his own victorious hand despoiled Demoleos, by the swift, embattled stream of Simois, under Troy,—and bade it be a glory and defence on valor's field; scarce might the straining shoulders of two slaves, Phegeus and Sagaris, the load endure, yet oft Demoleos in this armor dressed charged down full speed on routed hosts of Troy. The third gift Troy. The third gift was two cauldrons of wrought brass, and bowls of beaten silver, cunningly embossed with sculpture fair. Bearing such gifts, th' exultant victors onward moved, each brow bound with a purple fillet. But behold! Sergestus, from the grim rock just dragged off by cunning toil, one halting rank of oars left of his many lost, comes crawling in with vanquished ship, a mockery to all. As when a serpent, on the highway caught, some brazen wheel has crushed, or traveller with heavy-smiting blow left half a
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 5, line 286 (search)
Then good Aeneas, the ship-contest o'er, turned to a wide green valley, circled round with clasp of wood-clad hills, wherein was made an amphitheatre; entering with a throng of followers, the hero took his seat in mid-arena on a lofty mound. For the fleet foot-race, now, his summons flies, — he offers gifts, and shows the rewards due. The mingling youth of Troy and Sicily hastened from far. Among the foremost came the comrades Nisus and Euryalus, Euryalus for beauty's bloom renowned, Nisus for loyal love; close-following these Diores strode, a prince of Priam's line; then Salius and Patron, who were bred in Acarnania and Arcady; then two Sicilian warriors, Helymus and Panopes, both sylvan bred and born, comrades of King Acestes; after these the multitude whom Fame forgets to tell. Aeneas, so surrounded, thus spake forth: “Hear what I purpose, and with joy receive! of all your company, not one departs with empty hand. The Cretan javelins bright-tipped with burnished steel, and battle-ax
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 5, line 387 (search)
ryx for his fights was wont to bind on hand and arm, with the stiff raw-hide thong. All marvelled; for a weight of seven bulls' hides was pieced with lead and iron. Dares stared astonished, and step after step recoiled; high-souled Anchises' son, this way and that, turned o'er the enormous coil of knots and thongs; then with a deep-drawn breath the veteran spoke: “O, that thy wondering eyes had seen the arms of Hercules, and what his gauntlets were! Would thou hadst seen the conflict terrible upon this self-same shore! These arms were borne by Eryx. Look; thy brother's!—spattered yet with blood, with dashed-out brains! In these he stood when he matched Hercules. I wore them oft when in my pride and prime, ere envious age shed frost upon my brows. But if these arms be of our Trojan Dares disapproved, if good Aeneas rules it so, and King Acestes wills it, let us offer fight on even terms. Let Eryx' bull's-hide go. Tremble no more! But strip those gauntlets off — fetched here from Troy
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 5, line 545 (search)
ung Iulus, and this bidding gave to his obedient ear: “Arise and go where my Ascanius has lined his troop of youthful cavalry, and trained the steeds to tread in ranks of war. Bid him lead forth the squadron in our sire Anchises' name, and wear a hero's arms!” So saying, he bade the course be cleared, and from the whole wide field th' insurging, curious multitude withdrew. In rode the boys, to meet their parents' eyes, in even lines, a glittering cavalry; while all Trinacria and the host from Troy made loud applause. On each bright brow a well-trimmed wreath the flowing tresses bound; two javelins of corner tipped with steel each bore for arms; some from the shoulder slung a polished quiver; to each bosom fell a pliant necklace of fine, twisted gold. Three bands of horsemen ride, three captains proud prance here and there, assiduous in command, each of his twelve, who shine in parted lines which lesser captains lead. One cohort proud follows a little Priam's royal name — one day, Polit<
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 5, line 575 (search)
ion strong and fair. As once in Crete, the lofty mountain-isle, that-fabled labyrinthine gallery wound on through lightless walls, with thousand paths which baffled every clue, and led astray in unreturning mazes dark and blind: so did the sons of Troy their courses weave in mimic flights and battles fought for play, like dolphins tumbling in the liquid waves, along the Afric or Carpathian seas. This game and mode of march Ascanius, when Alba Longa's bastions proudly rose, taught to the Latin peght for play, like dolphins tumbling in the liquid waves, along the Afric or Carpathian seas. This game and mode of march Ascanius, when Alba Longa's bastions proudly rose, taught to the Latin people of the prime; and as the princely Trojan and his train were wont to do, so Alba to her sons the custom gave; so glorious Rome at last the heritage accepted and revered; and still we know them for the “Trojan Band,” and call the lads a “Troy.” Such was the end of game and contest at Anchises'
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 5, line 604 (search)
Then fortune veered and different aspect wore. For 'ere the sacred funeral games are done, Saturnian Juno from high heaven sent down the light-winged Iris to the ships of Troy, giving her flight good wind—still full of schemes and hungering to avenge her ancient wrong. Unseen of mortal eye, the virgin took her pathway on the thousand-colored bow, and o'er its gliding passage earthward flew. She scanned the vast assemblage; then her gaze turned shoreward, where along the idle bay the Trojan galleys quite unpeopled rode. But far removed, upon a lonely shore, a throng of Trojan dames bewailed aloud their lost Anchises, and with tears surveyed the mighty deep. “O weary waste of seas! What vast, untravelled floods beyond us roll!” So cried they with one voice, and prayed the gods for an abiding city; every heart loathed utterly the long, laborious sea. Then in their midst alighted, not unskilled in working woe, the goddess; though she wore nor garb nor form divine, but made herself one Bero<
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 5, line 623 (search)
walls! O tribe accursed, what death is Fate preparing? Since Troy fell the seventh summer flies, while still we rove o'er cruel rocks and seas, from star to star, from alien land to land, as evermore we chase, storm-tossed, that fleeting Italy across the waters wide. Behold this land of Eryx, of Acestes, friend and kin; what hinders them to raise a rampart here and build a town? O city of our sires! O venerated gods from haughty foes rescued in vain! Will nevermore a wall rise in the name of Troy? Shall I not see a Xanthus or a Simois, the streams to Hector dear? Come now! I lead the way. Let us go touch their baneful ships with fire! I saw Cassandra in a dream. Her shade, prophetic ever, gave me firebrands, and cried, ‘Find Ilium so! The home for thee is where thou art.’ Behold, the hour is ripe for our great act! No longer now delay to heed the heavenly omen. Yonder stand four altars unto Neptune. 'T is the god, the god himself, gives courage for the deed, and swift-enkindling fire.
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