The Aeneid (42 page)

Read The Aeneid Online

Authors: Virgil

                
The Trojans looked out on all this from the top of their
170         rampart and kept armed guards on all the high points while
                anxiously checking the gates, building bridges to their outlying
                fortlets, and bringing up missiles. Mnestheus and the zealous
                Serestus never relaxed their vigilance. They were the men Father
                Aeneas had appointed to take over the command of the troops
                and the government of the people should adversity require it.
                The whole legion was on the alert along the walls. Lots had been
                cast for posts of danger and each man was taking his turn to
                stand guard.

                Nisus, son of Hyrtacus, was keeper of a gate. This
                formidable warrior, swift to throw the spear or send the arrow flying, had
                been sent by Ida, the hunters’ mountain, to be the comrade of
180         Aeneas, and with him came his own comrade, Euryalus, a boy
                with the first signs of manhood on cheeks as yet unshaven. There
                was no lovelier youth among the people of Aeneas, and no
                lovelier youth ever put on Trojan armour. They were one in
                love, and side by side they used to charge into battle. So now
                too, they were sharing guard duty on the gate, when Nisus said
                to Euryalus: ‘Is it the gods who put this ardour into our minds,
                or does every man’s irresistible desire become his god? My mind
                is not content to rest in peace and quiet but has long been driving
                me to rush into battle or into some great enterprise. You see the
                Rutulians there with just a few scattered lights piercing the
190         darkness, how sure they are of everything, lying sunk in sleep
                and wine, and silence everywhere. Just listen to what I am
                thinking and to the plan beginning to form in my mind. The
                people and the fathers, they are all clamouring for Aeneas to be
                summoned and messengers sent to tell him exactly what is
                happening. If they promise to give you what I ask – all I want is
                credit for the deed – I think I can find a way round the foot of
                that hill to the city of Pallanteum.’ Euryalus was overcome,
                pierced to the heart with a great love of glory, and in an instant
                he replied in these words to his ardent friend: ‘So you do not
200         want me as your comrade on this great expedition, and I am to
                let you go alone into dangers like this? This is not how I was
                brought up by my father Opheltes during the Greek terror and
                our sufferings at Troy, and he knew all about war. Nor is this
                
how I have conducted myself with you, in following to the end
                the Fates of great-hearted Aeneas. I have here a heart that
                despises the light, that would gladly spend life to buy the honour
                you are striving for.’ To this Nisus replied: ‘So may great Jupiter,
                or whatever god looks with favour on this undertaking, bring
                me back to you in triumph, I swear I never had any such fears
210         about you. That would have been a sin. But if some chance or
                some god were to lead me into disaster – and you know how
                many things can happen in dangerous affairs like this – I would
                wish you to go on living. You are young and your claim on life
                is greater than mine. There would then be someone to consign
                my body to the earth if it is rescued from the battlefield or
                recovered by ransom, or if some fortune forbids that – and we
                know her ways – to make offerings for me here and honour me
                with an empty tomb. Besides, let me not be the cause of such
                heartbreak to your mother, who of all the mothers of Troy is
                the only one who has dared to follow her son here with never a
                thought for the walls of great Acestes.’ ‘One feeble argument
                after another,’ replied Euryalus, ‘and all to no purpose. My
220         mind is made up and you have done nothing to change it. Let
                us go, and quickly.’ So saying, he woke sentries to take over and
                keep guard for Nisus and himself. They left their post and
                marched off side by side to look for prince Ascanius.

                Over the whole world the creatures of the earth were relaxed
                in sleep, all resting from their cares, and their hearts had forgotten
                their labours; but the chosen warriors who were the great
                leaders of the Trojans were holding a council on matters of the
                highest importance to the kingdom. What were they to do now?
230         Who would go as a messenger to Aeneas? As they stood there
                on the level ground in the middle of the camp, leaning on
                their long spears and carrying their shields, Nisus and Euryalus
                suddenly arrived in great haste and asked to be admitted, saying
                that their business was urgent and well worth listening to. Seeing
                their excitement, Iulus was the first to welcome them and invited
                Nisus to speak. These were the words of the son of Hyrtacus:
                ‘Give us a fair hearing, sons of Aeneas. Do not judge what is
                said by the age of the speakers. The Rutulians have fallen quiet,
                deep in their drunken sleep, and we have seen a place for an
                
ambush, some open ground where the two roads meet by the
                gate nearest the sea. There the ring of watch-fires is broken and
240         the smoke is rising black to the stars. If you allow us to take
                this opportunity to go and look for Aeneas and the city of
                Pallanteum, you will soon see us coming back laden with booty
                and much slaughter done. We have no doubts about the way to
                go. We always hunt there and have seen the first houses of the
                city in the dark valleys. We have explored the whole river.’

                It was Aletes, heavy with years and mature in judgement, who
                now replied: ‘O gods of our fathers, in whose divine hands Troy
                still remains, in spite of all, it is not your will utterly to destroy
                the Trojans, if you have put such firmness of mind and heart
250         into our young warriors,’ and as he spoke he clasped the right
                hands of both of them and laid his hands on their shoulders while
                the tears ran down his cheeks and face: ‘Can any recompense be
                found for you?’ he cried. ‘Can anything match the glorious
                deeds you propose? The first and richest reward will come from
                the gods and from your own virtue, but the others will soon
                follow from a grateful Aeneas, and young Ascanius for the rest
                of his life will never forget such a service.’ ‘More than that,’
                interposed Ascanius, ‘my whole life hangs upon the return of
260         my father and I call upon you both to witness, by the great
                Penates and Lar of Assaracus, and the shrine of white-haired
                Vesta, I now place all my fortunes and all my hopes for the
                future in your hands, Nisus. Call back my father. Bring him
                back to my sight. If he is restored there can be no cause for grief.
                I shall give you two solid silver embossed cups which he took at
                the fall of Arisba, and with them a pair of tripods, two great
                talents of gold and an ancient mixing bowl given him by Dido
                of Sidon. But if he succeeds in taking Italy and winning the
                crown, while he is presiding over the distribution of booty in
                his hour of victory – you have seen the horse that Turnus rides,
270         you have seen him all golden in his armour – I shall exclude
                from the lot that horse, the shield and the scarlet plumes, and
                these will now be yours, Nisus, as your reward. In addition my
                father will give you twelve chosen matrons and twelve prisoners
                of war, each with his armour, and all the lands on the plain now
                held by king Latinus. But as for you, Euryalus, although you
                
are a boy and not so far ahead of myself in the race of life, I
                revere you and take you wholly into my heart, embracing you
                as my comrade, whatever may lie before us. Whatever I may do,
                I shall look for no glory that is not shared with you. In war or
280         in peace, whatever I say or do, my whole trust will be placed
                in you.’

                To this Euryalus replied: ‘The day shall never come when I
                shall be found unequal to acts of courage like this, if only the
                fall of fortune is in our favour tonight, and not against us. But
                one thing I ask of you, more precious than any gifts: I grieve for
                my mother of the ancient line of Priam. The land of Troy could
                not hold her when she came away with me, nor did the walls of
                king Acestes. As I now leave her, she knows nothing of the
                danger I am entering upon, whether it be great or small, and I
                have taken no farewell of her because – and I swear it by the
                Night and your own right hand – I could not bear to see my
290         mother weep. But comfort her in her helplessness, I beg you,
                and support her in her desolation. Let me take with me the hope
                that you will do this and I shall go all the more boldly into
                whatever dangers lie before me.’ The Trojans were overcome
                and wept, the fair Iulus most of all, as this image of his love for
                his own father touched his heart, and he replied: ‘You can be
                certain that everything I do will be worthy of your great enterprise.
                Your mother will be my mother in everything but the
                name Creusa. The woman who gave birth to such a son will
                receive no ordinary gratitude. I have promised you rewards
                when you return in triumph. Whatever the outcome of your
300         bravery, I swear by this head of mine, by which my father used
                to swear, that these same promises will hold good for your
                mother and your kin.’ So he spoke, weeping, and in that moment
                he took from his shoulder a gilded sword that Lycaon of Cnossus
                had fashioned with consummate art and fitted in an ivory scabbard
                to hang perfectly at his side, while Mnestheus gave Nisus
                a rough hide stripped from a lion, and trusty Aletes changed
                helmets with him. As soon as they were armed they marched
310         off, and all the leading Trojans, young and old, escorted them
                to the gates with their prayers. Foremost among them was the
                fair Iulus, bearing beyond his years a man’s load of cares and a
                
man’s spirit. He gave them many commissions to bear to his
                father, but they were all futile. The wind scattered them among
                the clouds.

                They moved off and crossed the ditch, making their way
                under cover of night to the camp that would be their death, but
                not before they had brought death to many others. They could
                see men sprawling in drunken sleep all over the grass and
                chariots standing along the river bank with their poles in the air
                and a tangle of men’s bodies and armour and wine vessels
320         among the reins and wheels. Nisus was the first to speak: ‘Now,
                Euryalus,’ he said, ‘my right hand must show its mettle. The
                hour calls out for it. Our road goes this way. You keep guard to
                the rear in case a party of men creeps up on us from behind, and
                look well into the distance. I shall make havoc here and clear a
                broad path for you.’ So he spoke and then had done with words.
                With sword drawn he made for proud Rhamnes who happened
                to be propped up there on a deep pile of rugs, his whole chest
                heaving as he slept. A king he was, and a prophet cherished by
                a king, by Turnus. But not all his prophesying could drive from
                him the plague of death. Nisus then caught three of Rhamnes’
                attendants lying in a heap among their weapons, then the
330         armour-bearer of Remus and his charioteer among the hooves
                of the horses. Their heads were lolling. He cut them off. Next
                he removed the head of their master Remus and left the blood
                gurgling out of his trunk and warming the ground as the black
                gore soaked through the bedding. Lamyrus also he slew, and
                Lamus and young Serranus, a handsome youth who had
                gambled late into the night. There he lay overcome by all the
                wine of Bacchus he had drunk. He would have been happy if he
                could have made his gambling last the night and kept it up till
340         daylight. Nisus was like a lion driven mad with hunger and
                ravening through pens full of sheep, dumb with fear, while he
                growls from jaws dripping with blood as he mauls and champs
                their soft flesh.

Other books

Perfect Submission by Roxy Sloane
Still the One by Robin Wells
Taking the Fall by McCoy, A.P.
Rogue's Passion by Laurie London
A Fine Night for Dying by Jack Higgins
Pretty Little Dreams by Jennifer Miller
Miami Jackson Gets It Straight by Patricia McKissack