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—for they dig graves, I ween, storm-smitten not less than we,—O, wherefore now stand faint and shameful on the battle's edge? Why quake our knees before the trumpet call? Time and the toil of shifting, changeful days restore lost causes; ebbing tides of chance deceive us oft, which after at their flood do lift us safe to shore. If aid come not from Diomed in Arpi, our allies shall be Mezentius and Tolumnius, auspicious name, and many a chieftain sent from many a tribe; not all inglorious are Latium's warriors from Laurentian land! Hither the noble Volscian stem sends down Camilla with her beauteous cavalry in glittering brass arrayed. But if, forsooth, the Trojans call me singly to the fight, if this be what ye will, and I so much the public weal impair—when from this sword has victory seemed to fly away in scorn? I should not hopeless tread in honor's way whate'er the venture. Dauntless will I go though equal match for great Achilles, he, and though he clothe him in celestial arms in <
wasted and unscathed, if there survive Italian tribes and towns for help in war, aye! if the Trojans have but won success at bloody cost,—for they dig graves, I ween, storm-smitten not less than we,—O, wherefore now stand faint and shameful on the battle's edge? Why quake our knees before the trumpet call? Time and the toil of shifting, changeful days restore lost causes; ebbing tides of chance deceive us oft, which after at their flood do lift us safe to shore. If aid come not from Diomed in Arpi, our allies shall be Mezentius and Tolumnius, auspicious name, and many a chieftain sent from many a tribe; not all inglorious are Latium's warriors from Laurentian land! Hither the noble Volscian stem sends down Camilla with her beauteous cavalry in glittering brass arrayed. But if, forsooth, the Trojans call me singly to the fight, if this be what ye will, and I so much the public weal impair—when from this sword has victory seemed to fly away in scorn? I should not hopeless tread in honor'<
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
Aufidus (Italy) (search for this): book 11, card 399
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 sp
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