hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity (current method)
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in ascending order. Sort in descending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
Troy (Turkey) 332 0 Browse Search
Italy (Italy) 138 0 Browse Search
Latium (Italy) 76 0 Browse Search
Tiber (Italy) 54 0 Browse Search
Rome (Italy) 38 0 Browse Search
Greece (Greece) 28 0 Browse Search
Argive (Greece) 24 0 Browse Search
Sicily (Italy) 22 0 Browse Search
Mycenae (Greece) 22 0 Browse Search
Eryx (Italy) 20 0 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams).

Found 1,854 total hits in 520 results.

1 2 3 4 5 6 ...
So, safe at land, our hopeless peril past, we offered thanks to Jove, and kindled high his altars with our feast and sacrifice; then, gathering on Actium's holy shore, made fair solemnities of pomp and game. My youth, anointing their smooth, naked limbs, wrestled our wonted way. For glad were we, who past so many isles of Greece had sped and 'scaped our circling foes. Now had the sun rolled through the year's full circle, and the waves were rough with icy winter's northern gales. I hung for trophy on that temple door a swelling shield of brass (which once was worn by mighty Abas) graven with this line: SPOIL OF AENEAS FROM TRIUMPHANT FOES. Then from that haven I command them forth; my good crews take the thwarts, smiting the sea with rival strokes, and skim the level main. Soon sank Phaeacia's wind-swept citadels out of our view; we skirted the bold shores of proud Epirus, in Chaonian land, and made Buthrotum's port and towering town.
Encircled by these pictures ran the waves of vast, unrestful seas in flowing gold, where seemed along the azure crests to fly the hoary foam, and in a silver ring the tails of swift, emerging dolphins lashed the waters bright, and clove the tumbling brine. For the shield's central glory could be seen great fleets of brazen galleys, and the fight at Actium; where, ablaze with war's array, Leucate's peak glowed o'er the golden tide. Caesar Augustus led Italia's sons to battle: at his side concordant moved Senate and Roman People, with their gods of hearth and home, and all Olympian Powers. Uplifted on his ship he stands; his brows beneath a double glory smile, and bright over his forehead beams the Julian star. in neighboring region great Agrippa leads, by favor of fair winds and friendly Heaven, his squadron forth: upon his brows he wears the peerless emblem of his rostral crown. Opposing, in barbaric splendor shine the arms of Antony: in victor's garb from nations in the land of morn h
eply, 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
ircling troop with troop, and swift parade of simulated war; now from the field they flee with backs defenceless to the foe; then rally, lance in rest—or, mingling all, make common front, one legion 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 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 Anchise
pon the old Italian breed, Who shall be mighty spirits, and prolong Our names, their heritage. I will unfold The story, and reveal the destined years. Yon princeling, thou beholdest leaning there Upon a royal lance, shall next emerge Into the realms of day. He is the first Of half-Italian strain, the last-born heir To thine old age by fair Lavinia given, Called Silvius, a royal Alban name (Of sylvan birth and sylvan nurture he), A king himself and sire of kings to come, By whom our race in Alba Longa reign. Next Procas stands, our Trojan people's boast; Capys and Numitor, and, named like thee, Aeneas Sylvius, like thee renowned For faithful honor and for deeds of war, When he ascends at last his Alban throne. Behold what warrior youth they be! How strong Their goodly limbs! Above their shaded brows The civic oak they wear! For thee they build Nomentum, and the walls of Gabii, Fidena too, and on the mountains pile Collatia's citadels, Pometii, Bola and Cora, Castrum-Inui— Such be the na
rishes its hope of domination, though in happier days such was thy promise. Let the victory fall to victors of thy choice! If nowhere lies the land thy cruel Queen would deign accord unto the Teucrian people,—O my sire, I pray thee by yon smouldering wreck of Troy to let Ascanius from the clash of arms escape unscathed. Let my own offspring live! Yea, let Aeneas, tossed on seas unknown, find some chance way; let my right hand avail to shelter him and from this fatal war in safety bring. For Amathus is mine, mine are Cythera and the Paphian hills and temples in Idalium. Let him drop the sword, and there live out inglorious days. By thy decree let Carthage overwhelm Ausonia's power; nor let defence be found to stay the Tyrian arms! What profits it that he escaped the wasting plague of war and fled Argolic fires? or that he knew so many perils of wide wilderness and waters rude? The Teucrians seek in vain new-born Troy in Latium. Better far crouched on their country's ashes to abide, and
Amiternum (Italy) (search for this): book 7, card 706
Then, one of far-descended Sabine name, Clausus advanced, the captain of a host, and in himself an equal host he seemed; from his proud loins the high-born Claudian stem through Latium multiplies, since Roman power with Sabine first was wed. A cohort came from Amiternum and the olden wall of Cures, called Quirites even then; Eretum answered and Mutusca's hill with olives clad, Velinus' flowery field, nomentum's fortress, the grim precipice of Tetrica, Severus' upland fair, Casperia, Foruli, Himella's waves, Tiber and Fabaris, and wintry streams of Nursia; to the same proud muster sped Tuscan with Latin tribes, and loyal towns beside whose walls ill-omened Allia flows. As numerous they moved as rolling waves that stir smooth Libyan seas, when in cold floods sinks grim Orion's star; or like the throng of clustering wheat-tops in the summer sun, near Hermus or on Lycia's yellowing plain: shields clashed; their strong tramp smote the trembling ground.
Anagnia (Italy) (search for this): book 7, card 678
Nor was Praeneste's founder absent there, by Vulcan sired, among the herds and hinds, and on a hearth-stone found (so runs the tale each pious age repeats) King Caeculus with rustic legions gathered from afar: from steep Praeneste and the Gabian vale to Juno dear, from Anio's cold stream, from upland Hernic rocks and foaming rills, from rich Anagnia's pastures, and the plain whence Amasenus pours his worshipped wave. Not all of armor boast, and seldom sound the chariot and shield; but out of slings they hurl blue balls of lead, or in one hand a brace of javelins bear; pulled o'er their brows are hoods of tawny wolf-skin; as they march the left foot leaves a barefoot track behind, a rawhide sandal on the right they wear.
o'er and o'er? What maddening dream perverts my mind? If after Turnus slain I must for friendship of the Trojan sue, were it not better to suspend the fray while Turnus lives? For what will be the word of thy Rutulian kindred—yea, of all Italia, if to death I give thee o'er— (Which Heaven avert!) because thou fain wouldst win my daughter and be sworn my friend and son? Bethink thee what a dubious work is war; have pity on thy father's reverend years, who even now thy absence daily mourns in Ardea, his native land and thine.” But to this pleading Turnus' frenzied soul yields not at all, but rather blazes forth more wildly, and his fever fiercer burns beneath the healer's hand. In answer he, soon as his passion gathered voice, began: “This keen solicitude for love of me, I pray, good sire, for love of me put by! And let me traffic in the just exchange of death for glory. This right hand, O King, can scatter shafts not few, nor do I wield untempered steel. Whene'er I make a wound blood
house of wise Latinus of all reason reft, then soared the black-winged goddess to the walls of the bold Rutule, to the city built (So runs the tale) by beauteous Danae and her Acrisian people, shipwrecked there by south wind strong. Its name was Ardea in language of our sires, and that proud name of Ardea still it wears, though proud no more. Here Turnus in the gloom of midnight lay half-sleeping in his regal hall. For him Alecto her grim fury-guise put by, and wore an old crone's face, her baArdea still it wears, though proud no more. Here Turnus in the gloom of midnight lay half-sleeping in his regal hall. For him Alecto her grim fury-guise put by, and wore an old crone's face, her baleful brow delved deep with wrinkled age, her hoary hair in sacred fillet bound, and garlanded with leaf of olive: Calybe she seemed, an aged servitress ot Juno's shrine, and in this seeming thus the prince addressed:— “O Turnus, wilt thou tamely see thy toil lavished in vain? and thy true throne consigned to Trojan wanderers? The King repels thy noble wooing and thy war-won dower. He summons him a son of alien stem to take his kingdom. Rouse thee now, and front, scorned and without reward, the
1 2 3 4 5 6 ...