The Æneid of Virgil translated into English proseVirgil
General
The Æneid of Virgil translated into English prose
Virgil
Aeneas (Legendary character); Epic poetry, Latin -- Translations into English; Legends -- Rome
“Such the words he kept on repeating and continued
unshaken, while we were shedding our hearts in tears—Creusa,
my wife, and Ascanius and my whole house, 5
imploring my father not to be bent on dragging
all with him to ruin, and lending his weight to the avalanche
of destiny. But he refuses, and will not be moved
from his purpose or his home. Once more I am plunging
into battle, and choosing death in the agony of my 10
wretchedness—for what could wisdom or fortune do
for me now? What, my father? that I could stir a step
to escape, leaving you behind? was this your expectation?
could aught so shocking fall from a parent’s lips? No—if
it is the will of heaven that naught of this mighty city 15
should be spared—if your purpose is fixed, and you find
pleasure in throwing yourself and yours on Troy’s blazing
pile, the door stands open for the death you crave. Pyrrhus
will be here in a moment, fresh from bathing in
Priam’s blood—Pyrrhus, who butchers the son before the 20
father’s face, who butchers the father at the altar. Gracious
mother! was it for this that thou rescuest me from fire and
sword—all that I may see the foe in the heart of my
home’s sanctuary—may see my Ascanius, and my father,
and my Creusa by them sacrificed in a pool of each other’s 25
blood? My arms, friends, bring me my arms! the call
of the day of death rings in the ears of the conquered.
Give me back to the Danaans, let me return and renew the
combat. Never shall this day see us all slaughtered
unresisting. 30
“Now I gird on my sword again, and was buckling and
fitting my shield to my left arm, and making my way out
of the house—when lo! my wife on the threshold began
to clasp and cling to my feet, holding out my little Iulus to
his father. ‘If it is to death you are going, then carry us 35
with you to death and all, but if experience gives you any
hope in the arms you are resuming, let your first stand be
made at your home. To whom, think you, are you leaving
your little Iulus—your father, and me who was once
styled your wife?’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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