Sylvæ, or, The second part of Poetical miscellanies

Connection of the remaining part of the Episode, translated out of the 9th. Book of Virgils Aeneids, with the fore∣going part of the Story.

The War being now broken out betwixt the Trojans and Latines; and Aeneas being overmatch'd in numbers by his Enemies, who were ayded by King Turnus, he forti∣••ies his Camp, and leaves in it his young Son Ascanius, under the direction of his chief Counsellours and Captains; while he goes in person, to beg Succours from King Evander and the Tuscans. Tur∣nus takes advantage of his absence, and assaults his Camp: The Trojans in it, are reduc'd to great extremities; which gives the Poet the occasion of continu∣ing this admirable Episode, wherein he describes the friendship, the generosity, the adventures, and the death of Nisus and Euryalus.

THe Trojan Camp the common danger shar'd; By turns they watch'd the Walls; and kept the Nightly Guard: To Warlike Nisus fell the Gate by Lot, (Whom Hyrtacus on Huntress Ida got: And sent to Sea Aeneas to attend,) Well cou'd he dart the Spear, and shafts unerring send. Beside him stood Euryalus, his ever Faithful friend. No Youth in all the Trojan Host was seen More beautiful in arms, or of a Nobler meen; Scarce was the Down upon his Chin begun; One was their Friendship, their desire was one: With minds united in the Field they warr'd, And now were both by Choice upon the Guard. Then Nisus thus: Or do the Gods this Warlike warmth inspire, Or makes Each Man a God of his desire?

A Noble Ardour boils within my Breast, Eager of Action, Enemy of Rest; That urges me to Fight, or undertake Some Deed that may my Fame immortal make. Thou seest the Foe secure: How faintly shine Their scatter'd Fires, the most in Sleep supine; Dissolv'd in Ease, and drunk with Victory: The few awake the fuming Flaggon Ply; All hush••d around: Now hear what I revolve, Within my mind, and what my labouring thoughts resolve. Our absent Lord both Camp and Council mourn; By Message both wou'd hasten his return: The gifts propos'd if they confer on thee, (For Fame is recompence enough to me) Methinks beneath you Hill, I have espy'd A way that safely will my Passage guide.

Euryalus stood Listning while he spoke, With Love of praise, and Noble envy strook; Then to his ardent Friend, expos'd his mind: All this alone, and leaving me behind! Am I unworthy, Nisus, to be joyn'd, Think'st thou my Share of honour I will yield, Or send thee unassisted to the Field? Not so my Father taught my Childhood Armes, Born in a Siege, and bred amongst Alarms: Nor is my Youth unworthy of my Friend, Or of the Heav'n-born Heroe I attend. The thing call'd Life with ease I can disdain; And think it oversold to purchase Fame. To whom his Friend; I cou'd think, alas, thy Tender years Wou'd minister new matter to my Fears: Nor is it just thou shoudst thy Wish obtain; So Iove in Triumph bring me back again;

To those dear eyes; or if a God there be To pious Friends, propitious more than he. But if some one, as many sure there are, Of adverse accidents in doubtful War, If one shou'd reach my Head there let it fall, And spare thy life, I wou'd not perish all: Thy Youth is worthy of a longer Date; Do thou remain to mourn thy Lovers fate; To bear my mangled body from the Foe, Or buy it back, and Fun'ral rites bestow. Or if hard Fortune shall my Corps deny Those dues, with empty Marble to supply. O let not me the Widows tears renew, Let not a Mothers curse my name pursue; Thy pious Mother, who in Love to thee, Left the Fair Coast of fruitful Sicily; Her Age committing to the Seas and Wind, When every weary Matron staid behind.

••o this Euryalus, thou pleadst in vain, ••nd but delayst the cause thou canst not gain: ••o more, 'tis loss of time: with that he wakes ••he nodding Watch; each to his Office takes! ••he Guard reliev'd, in Company they went To find the Council at the Royal Tent. Now every living thing lay void of care, ••nd Sleep, the common gift of Nature, share: Mean time the Trojan Peers in Council sate And call'd their Chief Commanders, to debate The weighty business of th' indanger'd State. What next was to be done, who to be sent T' inform Aeneas of the Foes intent. ••n midst of all the quiet Camp they held Nocturnal Council; each sustains a Shield Which his o're labour'd Arm can hardly rear; And leans upon a long projected Spear.

Now Nisus and his Friend approach the Guard, And beg admittance, eager to be heard, Th' affair important; not to be deferr'd. Ascanius bids them be conducted in; Then thus, commanded, Nisus does begin. Ye Trojan Fathers lend attentive Ears; Nor judge our undertaking by our years. The Foes securely drench'd in Sleep and wine Their Watch neglect; their Fires but thinly shine. And where the Smoak in thickning Vapours flies Cov'ring the plain, and Clouding all the Skies, Betwixt the spaces we have mark'd a way, Close by the Gate and Coasting by the Sea; This Passage undisturb'd, and unespy'd Our Steps will safely to Aeneas guide, Expect each hour to see him back again Loaded with spoils of Foes, in Battle slain:

Snatch we the Lucky Minute while we may, Nor can we be mistaken in the way: For Hunting in the Vale, we oft have seen The rising Turrets with the stream between: And know its winding Course, with every foord. He paus'd, and Old Alethes took the Word. Our Country Gods in whom our trust we place, Will yet from ruin save the Trojan race; While we behold such springing worth appear, In youth so brave, and breasts so void of fear. (With this he took the hand of either Boy, Embrac'd them closely both, and wept for joy:) Ye brave young men, what equal gifts can we, What recompence for such desert, decree! The greatest sure and best you can receive, The Gods, your vertue and your fame will give: The Rest, our grateful General will bestow; And young Ascanius, till his Manhood, owe.

And I whose welfare in my Father lies, (Ascanius adds,) by all the Deities By our great Country, and our household Gods, By Hoary Vesta's rites, and dark abodes, Adjure you both, on you my Fortune stands, That and my Faith I plight into your hands, Make me but happy in his safe return, (For I No other loss but only his can mourn,) Nisus your gift shall two large Goblets be, Of Silver wrought with curious Imag'ry, And high embost: which when old Priam reign'd My conquering Sire, at sack'd Arisba gain'd. And more two Tripods cast in antique mould, With two great Tallents of the finest Gold. Besides a Boul which Tyrian Art did grave; The Present that Sidonian Dido gave. But if in Conquer'd Italy we reign, When Spoils by Lot the Victors shall obtain,

Thou saw'st the Courser by proud Turnus prest; That, and his golden Arms, and sanguine Crest, And Sheild, from lot exempted, thou shalt share; With these, twelve captive Dam'sels young and fair: Male Slaves as many; well appointed all With Vests and Arms, shall to thy portion fall: And last a fruitful Field to thee shall rest, The large demenes the Latian King possest. But thou, whose years are more to mine ally'd, No fate my vow'd affection shall divide From thee O wondrous Youth: be ever mine, Take f••ll possession, all my Soul is thine: My lifes Companion, and my bosom Friend; One faith, one fame, one fate shall both attend. My peace shall be committed to thy care, And to thy Conduct my concerns in war. Then thus the bold Euryalus reply'd; What ever fortune, good or bad, betide,

The same shall be my Age, as now my Youth; No time shall find me wanting to my truth. This only from your bounty let me gain; (And this not granted, all rewards are vain:) Of Priams Royal Race my Mother came, And sure the best that ever bore the name: Whom neither Troy, nor Sicily cou'd hold From me departing; but o're spent and old, My fate she follow'd; ignorant of this What ever danger: Neither parting kiss, Nor pious Blessing taken, her I leave: And in this only Act of all my life deceive. By this your hand and conscious Night I swear, My youth so sad a farewel cou'd not bear. Be you her Patron fill my vacant place; (Permit me to presume so great a grace;) Support her Age forsaken and distrest; That hope alone will fortifie my breast,

Against the worst of fortunes and of fears: He said; th' Assistants shed presaging tears. But above all, Ascanius mov'd to see That image of paternal piety. Then thus reply'd.— So great beginnings in so green an Age Exact that Faith, which firmly I engage; Thy Mother all the priviledge shall claim Cre••sa had; and only want the name. Whate'r event thy enterprise shall have, 'Tis Merit to have born a Son so brave. By this my Head, a sacred Oath, I swear, (My Father us'd it) what returning, here Crown'd with success, I for thy self prepare, Thy Parent and thy Family shall share: He said; and weeping while he spoke the word, From his broad Belt he drew a shining Sword,

Magnificent with Gold; Lycaon made, And in an Iv'ry scabbard sheath'd the Blade. This was his Gift: while Mnestheus did provide For Nisus Arms; a grisley Lions Hide; And true Alethes chang'd with him his helm of tem∣per try'd. Thus arm'd they went: the noble Trojans wait Their going forth, and follow to the Gate. With Pray'rs and Vows above the rest appears Ascanius, manly far above his years. And Messages committed to their care; Which all in Winds were lost, and empty air. The Trenches first they pass'd; then took their way, Where their proud foes in pitch'd Pavilions lay. To many fatal e'r themselves were slain: The careless Host disperst upon the Plain They found, who drunk with Wine supinely snore▪ Unharness'd Chariots stand upon the shore;

Midst wheels, and reins, and arms, the Goblet by, A Medley of Debauch and War they lie▪ Observing Nisus shew'd his friend the sight; Then thus: behold a Conquest without fight. Occasion calls the Sword to be prepar'd: Our way lies there, stand thou upon the guard; And look behind, while I securely go To cut an ample passage through the Foe. Softly he spoke; then stalking took his way, With his drawn Sword, where haughty Rhamnes lay, His head rais'd high, on Tapestry beneath, And heaving from his breast, he puff'd his breath. A King, and Prophet by King Turnus lov'd, But fate by Prescience cannot be remov'd. Three sleeping Slaves he soon subdues: then spyes Where Rhemus, with his proud Retinue, lies: His Armour Bearer first, and next he kills His Charioteer, entrench'd betwixt the wheels,

And his lov'd Horses; last invades their Lord, Full on his Neck he aims the fatal Sword: The Gasping head flies off: a purple ••loud, Flows from the Trunk, that wallows in the bloud; Which by the spurning heels, dispers'd around The bed, besprinkles and bedews the ground. Then Lamyrus with Lamus and the young Serranus, who with gaming did prolong The night: opprest with wine and slumber lay The beauteous Youth, and dreamt of lucky Play; More lucky had it been protracted till the day. The famish'd Lion thus with hunger bold, O're leaps the fences of the nightly fold, The peaceful Flock devours, and tears, and draws; Wrapt up in silent fear, they lie and pant beneath his paws. Nor with less rage Euryalus imploys The vengeful Sword, nor fewer foes destroyes;

But on th' ignoble Crowd his fury flew; Which Fadus, Hebesus, and Rhaetus slew, With Abaris; in sleep the rest did fall; But Rhaetus waking, and observing all: Behind a mighty Jar he slunk for fear; The sharp edg'd Iron found and reach'd him there: Full as he rose he plung'd it in his side; The cruel Sword return'd in crimson dy'd. The wound a blended stream of wine and blood Pours out; the purple Soul comes floating in the sloud. Now where Messapus quarter'd they arrive; The fires were fainting there, and just alive; The warlike Horses ty'd in order fed; Nisus the discipline observ'd, and sed, Our eagerness of blood may both betray: Behold the doubtful glimmering of the day,

Foe to these nightly thefts: No more my, friend Here let our glutted execution End; A Lane through slaughter'd Bodies we have made The bold Euryalus, though loath, obey'd: Rich Arms and Arras which they scatter'd find, And Plate, a precious load they leave behind. Yet fond of Gaudy spoils, the Boy wou'd stay To make the proud Caparisons his prey, Which deck'd a Neigh'bring steed.— Nor did his eyes less longingly behold The Girdle studded o're with Nails of Gold, Which Rhamnes wore: This present long ago On Remulus did Caedicus bestow, And absent joyn'd in hospitable Tyes. He dying to his Heir bequeath'd the prize: Till by the conquering Rutuli opprest He fell, and they the glorious gift possest.

These gaudy spoils Eurialus now bears; And vainly on his brawny Shoulders wears: Messapus Helm, he found amongst the dead, Garnish'd with plumes, and fitted to his head. They leave the Camp and take the safest road; Mean time a Squadron of their foes abroad, Three hundred Horse with Bucklers arm'd, they spy'd, Whom Volscens by the Kings command did guide: To Turnus these were from the City sent, And to perform their Message sought his Tent. Approaching near their utmost lines they draw; When bending tow'rds the left, their Captain saw The faithful pair; for through the doubtful shade His glitt'ring Helm Euryalus betray'd; On which the Moon with full reflection play'd. 'Tis not for nought (cry'd Volscens from the crowd) These Men go there, then rais'd his voice aloud:

Stand, stand! why thus in Arms? And whether bent? From whence, to whom, and on what errand sent? Silent they make away; and hast their flight To Neighb'ring Woods; and trust themselves to night. The speedy horsemen spur their Steeds to get 'Twixt them and home; and every path beset, And all the windings of the well known Wood; Black was the Brake, and thick with Oak it stood, With fern all horrid, and perplexing thorn, Where tracks of Bears had scarce a passage worn. The darkness of the shades; his heavy prey, And fear, misled the younger from his way: But Nisus hit the turns with happier hast, Who now, unknowing, had the danger past, And Alban Lakes from Alba's name so call'd; Where King Latinus then his Oxen Stall'd.

Till turning at the length he stood his ground, And vainly cast his longing eyes around For his lost friend! Ah! wretch, he cry'd, where have I left behind. Where shall I hope th' unhappy Youth to find! Or what way take! again he ventures back, And treads the Mazes of his former track, Thro the wild wood: at last he hears the Noise Of trampling Horses, and the riders voice. The Sound approach'd, and suddainly he view'd His Foes inclosing, and his friend pursu'd, Fore laid, and taken, while he strove in vain The Covert of the Neighb'ring Wood to gain. What shou'd he next attempt, what arms employ With fruitless force to free the Captive Boy? Or tempt unequal numbers with the Sword; And die by him whom living he ador'd?

Resolv'd on death his dreadful Spear he shook, And casting to the Moon a mournful look, Fair Queen, said he, who dost in woods delight, Grace of the Stars, and Goddess of the Night; Be present, and direct my Dart aright. If e're my pious Father for my sake, Did on thy Altars grateful offerings make, Or I increas'd them with successful toils; And hung thy Sacred Roof with savage Spoils, Through the brown shadows guide my flying Spear To reach this Troop: Then poyzing from his ear The quiv'ring Weapon with full force he threw; Through the divided shades the deadly Javelin flew; On Sulmo's back it splits; the double dart, Drove deeper onward, and transfixt his heart. He staggers round, his eye-balls rowl in death; And with short Sobbs, he gasps away his breath.

All stand amaz'd; a second Javelin flies From his stretch'd arm, and hisses through the Skies: The Lance through Tagus Temples forc'd its way; And in his brain-pan warmly buried lay. Fierce Volscens foams with rage; and gazing round, Descry'd no Author of the Fatal wound, Nor where to fix revenge: But thou he cries, Shalt pay for both; and at the Pris'ner flies, With his drawn Swo••d: Then, struck with deep despair, That fatal fight the Lover cou'd not bear; But from his Covert rusht in open view; And sent his voice before him as he flew; Me, me, employ your Sword on me alone: The crime confes'd; the fact was all my own. He neither cou'd nor durst, the guiltless Youth, Ye Moon and Stars bear witness to the Truth;

His only fault, if that be to offend, Was too much loving his unhappy friend. Too late alas, he speaks; The Sword, which unrelenting fury guides Driv'n with full force had pierc'd his tender sides; Down fell the beauteous Youth, the gaping wound Gush'd out a Crimson stream and stain'd the ground: His nodding neck reclines on his white breast, Like a fair Flow'r, in furrow'd Fields opprest, By the keen Share: or Poppy on the plain, Whose heavy head is overcharg'd with rain. Disdain, despair, and deadly vengeance vow'd, Drove Nisus headlong on the Hostile Crow'd; Vols••ens he seeks, at him alone he bends; Born back, and push'd by his surrounding friends, He still press'd on; and kept him still in sight; Then whirld aloft his Sword with all his might;

Th' unerring Weapon slew; and wing'd with death, Enter'd his gaping Mouth, and stop'd his breath. Dying he slew: and stagg'ring on the plain, Sought for the Body of his Lover slain: Then quietly on his dear Breast he fell; Content in death to be reveng'd so well, O happy pair! for if my verse can give Eternity; your fame shall ever live: Fix'd as the Capitols Foundations lies, And spread where e're the Roman Eagle flies.