She herself was there, promised in marriage to the great Thunderer, but not yet a bride and timidly putting off her sisterhood with downcast eyes she kisses the youthful Jupiter, a simple maid, nor yet offended by the secret loves of her husband.
Are ye madiens with your downcast eyes full#
They bear too a gift in a basket, a robe whose marvellous texture no hand of childless wife nor of any parted from her husband had wrought, a garment full worthy of the chaste goddess: thereon was much purple, gaily embroidered in manifold design and blazing with interwoven gold. The day was already spent in entreaties: night comes and adds its cares, and the altars keep vigil with high-piled fires. But far away a suppliant train of Pelopean dames, prostrate before their native altars and on the threshold of the Argolic fane, implore the help of sceptred Juno and the return of their loved ones, and press their faces to the cold stones and painted doors, and teach their little children to kneel. So gathers at nightfall a herd of ravening wolves, whom over all the country-side hunger that brings reckless daring has starved with long privation: already they are near the very sheep-folds, hope unfulfilled and the feeble bleatings and juicy scents from the pens torture their throats at last they break their claws against the cruel stakes, and bruise their bodies and blunt their unfleshed fangs upon the doors. Then sharing between them front and rear and curving flanks they ring round the rampart with hostile flame. Just as they were, with dust and sweat and blood still caked upon their limbs, they turned to go, scarce heeding the farewells that would stay them, but shaking off the embracing arms and hand-clasps of their friends. Thus does he heap encouraging words upon the fierce Labdacidae: they rejoice to repeat the toils already endured.
Ye need not fear the foe ‘tis booty ye watch, and wealth that at last is yours.” Our reward is in our hands, gone are the proud leaders of the host, and the chieftains’ crests displayed along the sevenfold array formidable indeed is Adrastus’ dotage, and my brother’s more cowardly manhood, and Capaneus’ frenzied arms! Forward then, and set your wakeful fires about their beleaguered camp. All the glory of Lerna, all her foremost might lies low: Tydeus is gone to avenging Tartarus Death starts to behold the black augur’s sudden shade 1 Ismenos is swollen with the plunder of Hippomedon’s spoils the Arcadian 2 we are ashamed to count among the trophies of war. And now in marshalled ranks they bring arms and food and fire the king cheers them as they go: “Conquerors of the Danaans – for tomorrow’s dawn is near, and the darkness that saved the cowards will not last for ever – raise your spirits high and let your hearts be worthy of heaven’s favour. Therefore the Tyrians are emboldened to keep watch no more on their own camp, but rather on their foes’ retreat, lest haply they seek to return with all speed to Mycenae the watchword gives the signal to the sentinels, and posts are set Meges by lot, and Lycus at his request are leaders of the night’s enterprise. Each side is alike distressed, but Thebes has solace in the four Danaan bands wandering without a chief: like alder vessels on the billowy deep that are widowed of their helmsmen and steered by God and Chance and all the storms. Then, an unsightly troop with tattered ensigns, they withdraw their exhausted lines, and the gates that were so narrow as they thronged to battle are all too broad as they return.
Far stretches the plain, a vast unsightly sea of blood there they leave their arms, and the steeds whereon before they went so proudly, and the corpses deprived of their pyres and the neglected limbs. Dewy Night overwhelmed Phoebus in the gateway of the West, hastened by the commands of Jove nought pities he the Pelasgian camp nor the Tyrian forces, but he grieved that beside the warriors so many innocent folk should fall by the sword. Theseus & Burial of the Dead THEBAID BOOK 10, TRANSLATED BY J.
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