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
Troy torn from blazing shrines, tables of gods, bowls of
solid gold, and captive vestments in one great heap. Boys
and mothers stand trembling all about in long array.
“Nay, I was emboldened even to fling random cries 25
through the darkness. I filled the streets with shouts, and
in my agony called again and again on my Creusa with unavailing
iteration. As I was thus making my search and
raving unceasingly the whole city through, the hapless
shade, the spectre of my own Creusa appeared in my 30
presence—a likeness larger than the life. I was aghast,
my hair stood erect, my tongue clove to my mouth, while
she began to address me thus, and relieve my trouble
with words like these: ‘Whence this strange pleasure
in indulging frantic grief, my darling husband? It is 35
not without Heaven’s will that these things are happening:
that you should carry your Creusa with you on your journey
is forbidden by fate, forbidden by the mighty ruler
of heaven above. You have long years of exile, a vast
expanse of ocean to traverse—and then you will arrive
at the land of Hesperia, where Tiber, Lydia’s river, rolls
his gentle volumes through rich and cultured plains.
There you have a smiling future, a kingdom and a royal 5
bride waiting your coming. Dry your tears for Creusa,
your heart’s choice though she be. I am not to see the
face of Myrmidons or Dolopes in their haughty homes,
or to enter the service of some Grecian matron—I, a
Dardan princess, daughter by marriage of Venus the immortal. 10
No, I am kept in this country by heaven’s
mighty mother. And now farewell, and continue to love
your son and mine. Thus having spoken, spite of my
tears, spite of the thousand things I longed to say, she left
me and vanished into unsubstantial air. Thrice, as I 15
stood, I essayed to fling my arms round her neck—thrice
the phantom escaped the hands that caught at it in vain—impalpable
as the wind, fleeting as the wings of sleep.
“So passed my night, and such was my return to my
comrades. Arrived there, I find with wonder their band 20
swelled by a vast multitude of new companions, matrons
and warriors both, an army mustered for exile, a crowd
of the wretched. From every side they were met, prepared
in heart as in fortune to follow me over the sea to
any land where I might take them to settle. And now 25
the morning star was rising over Ida’s loftiest ridge
with the day in its train—Danaan sentinels were blocking
up the entry of the gates, and no hope of succour appeared.
I retired at last, took up my father, and made for the
mountains. 30
BOOK III
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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