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Polybius, Histories 310 0 Browse Search
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams) 138 0 Browse Search
Richard Hakluyt, The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques, and Discoveries of the English Nation 134 0 Browse Search
M. Tullius Cicero, Orations, The fourteen orations against Marcus Antonius (Philippics) (ed. C. D. Yonge) 102 0 Browse Search
John Conington, Commentary on Vergil's Aeneid, Volume 2 92 0 Browse Search
Diodorus Siculus, Library 90 0 Browse Search
C. Julius Caesar, Commentaries on the Civil War (ed. William Duncan) 86 0 Browse Search
Cornelius Tacitus, The History (ed. Alfred John Church, William Jackson Brodribb) 70 0 Browse Search
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden) 68 0 Browse Search
Pausanias, Description of Greece 66 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 Italy (Italy) or search for Italy (Italy) in all documents.

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P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 1 (search)
Arms and the man I sing, who first made way, predestined exile, from the Trojan shore to Italy, the blest Lavinian strand. Smitten of storms he was on land and sea by violence of Heaven, to satisfy stern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war he suffered, seeking at the last to found the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods to safe abode in Latium; whence arose the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords, and from her hills wide-walled, imperial Rome.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 12 (search)
In ages gone an ancient city stood— Carthage, a Tyrian seat, which from afar made front on Italy and on the mouths of Tiber's stream; its wealth and revenues were vast, and ruthless was its quest of war. 'T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved, most cherished this,—not Samos' self so dear. Here were her arms, her chariot; even then a throne of power o'er nations near and far, if Fate opposed not, 't was her darling hope to 'stablish here; but anxiously she heard that of the Trojan blood there was a breed then rising, which upon the destined day should utterly o'erwhelm her Tyrian towers, a people of wide sway and conquest proud should compass Libya's doom;—such was the web the Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fear of Saturn's daughter, who remembered well what long and unavailing strife she waged for her loved Greeks at Troy. Nor did she fail to meditate th' occasions of her rage, and cherish deep within her bosom proud its griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made; her scorned<
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 34 (search)
Below th' horizon the Sicilian isle just sank from view, as for the open sea with heart of hope they sailed, and every ship clove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves. But Juno of her everlasting wound knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain thus darkly mused: “Must I, defeated, fail of what I will, nor turn the Teucrian King from Italy away? Can Fate oppose? Had Pallas power to lay waste in flame the Argive fleet and sink its mariners, revenging but the sacrilege obscene by Ajax wrought, Oileus' desperate son? She, from the clouds, herself Jove's lightning threw, scattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms. Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire, in whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung. But I, who move among the gods a queen, Jove's sister and his spouse, with one weak tribe make war so long! Who now on Juno calls? What suppliant gifts henceforth her altars crown?
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 65 (search)
“Thou in whose hands the Father of all gods and Sovereign of mankind confides the power to calm the waters or with winds upturn, great Aeolus! a race with me at war now sails the Tuscan main towards Italy, bringing their Ilium and its vanquished powers. Uprouse thy gales. Strike that proud navy down! Hurl far and wide, and strew the waves with dead! Twice seven nymphs are mine, of rarest mould; of whom Deiopea, the most fair, I give thee in true wedlock for thine own, to mate thy noble worth; she at thy side shall pass long, happy years, and fruitful bring her beauteous offspring unto thee their sire.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 223 (search)
ith sails, lands widely spread, and nations populous from shore to shore, paused on the peak of heaven, and fixed his gaze on Libya. But while he anxious mused, near him, her radiant eyes all dim with tears, nor smiling any more, Venus approached, and thus complained: “O thou who dost control things human and divine by changeless laws, enthroned in awful thunder! What huge wrong could my Aeneas and his Trojans few achieve against thy power? For they have borne unnumbered deaths, and, failing Italy, the gates of all the world against them close. Hast thou not given us thy covenant that hence the Romans when the rolling years have come full cycle, shall arise to power from Troy's regenerate seed, and rule supreme the unresisted lords of land and sea? O Sire, what swerves thy will? How oft have I in Troy's most lamentable wreck and woe consoled my heart with this, and balanced oft our destined good against our destined ill! But the same stormful fortune still pursues my band of heroes on
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 254 (search)
ply, the Sire of gods and men, with such a look as clears the skies of storm chastely his daughter kissed, and thus spake on: “Let Cytherea cast her fears away! Irrevocably blest the fortunes be of thee and thine. Nor shalt thou fail to see that City, and the proud predestined wall encompassing Lavinium. Thyself shall starward to the heights of heaven bear Aeneas the great-hearted. Nothing swerves my will once uttered. Since such carking cares consume thee, I this hour speak freely forth, and leaf by leaf the book of fate unfold. Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond about his gathered people. Summers three shall Latium call him king; and three times pass the winter o'er Rutulia's vanquished hills. His heir, Ascanius, now Iulus called (Ilus it was while Ilium's kingdom stood), full thirty months shall reign, then move the throne from the Lavinian citadel, and build for Alba Longa its well-bastioned wall
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 372 (search)
ll my woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause to heed the tale, first would the vesper star th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day in slumber lie. Of ancient Troy are we— if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved from sea to sea, the hazard of the storm cast us up hither on this Libyan coast. I am Aeneas, faithful evermore to Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear my gods ancestral, which I snatched away from peril of the foe. My fame is known above the stars. I travel on in quest of Italy, my true home-land, and I from Jove himself may trace my birth divine. With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main I launched away. My mother from the skies gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained. Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive the shock of wind and wave; and I myself friendless, bereft, am wandering up and down this Libyan wilderness! Behold me here, from Europe and from Asia exiled still!” But Venus could not let him longer plain, and stopped his grief midw
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 520 (search)
a to sea, beseech thy mercy; keep the curse of fire from our poor ships! We pray thee, do no wrong unto a guiltless race. But heed our plea! No Libyan hearth shall suffer by our sword, nor spoil and plunder to our ships be borne; such haughty violence fits not the souls of vanquished men. We journey to a land named, in Greek syllables, Hesperia: a storied realm, made mighty by great wars and wealth of fruitful land; in former days Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said, have called it Italy, a chieftain's name to a whole region given. Thitherward our ships did fare; but with swift-rising flood the stormful season of Orion's star drove us on viewless shoals; and angry gales dispersed us, smitten by the tumbling surge, among innavigable rocks. Behold, we few swam hither, waifs upon your shore! What race of mortals this? What barbarous land, that with inhospitable laws ye thrust a stranger from your coasts, and fly to arms, nor grant mere foothold on your kingdom's bound? If man t
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 1, line 544 (search)
at Acestes there is of our Trojan kin. So grant us here to beach our shattered ships along thy shore, and from thy forest bring us beam and spar to mend our broken oars. Then, if perchance we find once more our comrades and our king, and forth to Italy once more set sail, to Italy, our Latin hearth and home, we will rejoicing go. But if our weal is clean gone by, and thee, blest chief and sire, these Libyan waters keep, and if no more Iulus bids us hope,—then, at the least, to yon Sicilian seaswe find once more our comrades and our king, and forth to Italy once more set sail, to Italy, our Latin hearth and home, we will rejoicing go. But if our weal is clean gone by, and thee, blest chief and sire, these Libyan waters keep, and if no more Iulus bids us hope,—then, at the least, to yon Sicilian seas, to friendly lands whence hither drifting with the winds we came, let us retrace the journey and rejoin good King Acestes.” So Ilioneus ended his pleading; the Dardanidae murmured as
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams), Book 3, line 147 (search)
is Cretan shore, nor here would Delian Phoebus have thee bide. There is a land the roving Greeks have named Hesperia. It is a storied realm made mighty by great wars and fruitful land. Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said, have called it Italy, a chieftain's name to a whole region given. That land alone our true abode can be; for Dardanus was cradled there, and old Iasius, their blood the oldest of our ancient line. Arise! go forth and cheer thy father gray with the glad tidings! Bid honfusion mingling ancient names; then spoke: “O son, in Ilium's doom severe afflicted ever! To my ears alone this dark vicissitude Cassandra sang. I mind me now that her wild tongue foretold such destiny. For oft she called aloud ‘Hesperia!’ oft ‘Italia's kingdom!’ called. But who had faith that Teucer's sons should come to far Hesperia? What mortal ear gave heed to sad Cassandra's voice divine? Now Phoebus speaks. Obedient let us be, and, warned by him, our happier Iot pursue!” He spoke: w
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