Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
To guard the Gate brave Nisus stood in Arms,
And by his Side Euryalus: than whom
Was none more beauteous, clad in Trojan Arms:
The first soft Down of Youth had just begun
To bloom upon his Cheeks: One was their Love:
One common Hazard in the War they shar'd,
And now were both by Choice upon the Guard.
And by his Side Euryalus: than whom
Was none more beauteous, clad in Trojan Arms:
The first soft Down of Youth had just begun
To bloom upon his Cheeks: One was their Love:
One common Hazard in the War they shar'd,
And now were both by Choice upon the Guard.
Then Nisus: do the Gods, my Friend, infuse
This Ardor of the Soul? or make we Gods
Of our own strong Desires? My Mind, long since
Eager of Action prompts me to engage
Or in the Fight, or in some great Attempt:
Nor this dull Rest endures.—
This Ardor of the Soul? or make we Gods
Of our own strong Desires? My Mind, long since
Eager of Action prompts me to engage
Or in the Fight, or in some great Attempt:
Nor this dull Rest endures.—
Struck with Surprize, and fir'd with Thirst of Fame,
Thus sudden to his ardent Friend reply'd
Euryalus. And wouldst Thou then refuse
To add me, Nisus, to the brave Design?
And shall I suffer Thee to go expos'd
To such a perilous Attempt alone?
Here too, here dwells a Soul, that with Contempt
Regards this vital Air: and thinks with Life
That Fame well bought to which thy Soul aspires.
Thus sudden to his ardent Friend reply'd
Euryalus. And wouldst Thou then refuse
To add me, Nisus, to the brave Design?
And shall I suffer Thee to go expos'd
To such a perilous Attempt alone?
Here too, here dwells a Soul, that with Contempt
Regards this vital Air: and thinks with Life
That Fame well bought to which thy Soul aspires.
Nisus to this: No such injurious Thought
Of Thee, no such Suspicion, in my Breast
Was ever harbour'd: No: as this is Truth,
So may great Jove, or whate'er God regards
These Things with equal Eyes, restore me crown'd
With Conquest to thy Arms.—But if some Chance
(As many in such hazardous Attempts
Thou seest) if any Chance or Power divine
Snatch me from Earth: Thee I would leave behind:—
Thy Age can shew a better Claim to Life.
Let there survive, who may with solemn Rites
Inurn my Body, rescu'd from the Foe
In Battle, or redeem by Ransom paid:
Or (That if Fate forbid) an empty Tomb
May build, and grace my Manes with a Grave.
Nor to thy wretched Mother let me cause
So great a Grief: thy Mother, who, alone
Of all the Trojan Dames, for Thee, dear Youth,
Follows our Camp.—
Then He: Thy empty Reasons urg'd in vain
Thou dost alledge: nor is my Purpose chang'd:
Haste we, he said: Then wakes the Sentries: They
Succeed, and mount the Guard: the friendly Pair,
Quitting their Station, seek the General's Tent.—
Of Thee, no such Suspicion, in my Breast
Was ever harbour'd: No: as this is Truth,
So may great Jove, or whate'er God regards
These Things with equal Eyes, restore me crown'd
With Conquest to thy Arms.—But if some Chance
(As many in such hazardous Attempts
Thou seest) if any Chance or Power divine
Snatch me from Earth: Thee I would leave behind:—
Thy Age can shew a better Claim to Life.
Let there survive, who may with solemn Rites
Inurn my Body, rescu'd from the Foe
In Battle, or redeem by Ransom paid:
Or (That if Fate forbid) an empty Tomb
May build, and grace my Manes with a Grave.
395
So great a Grief: thy Mother, who, alone
Of all the Trojan Dames, for Thee, dear Youth,
Follows our Camp.—
Then He: Thy empty Reasons urg'd in vain
Thou dost alledge: nor is my Purpose chang'd:
Haste we, he said: Then wakes the Sentries: They
Succeed, and mount the Guard: the friendly Pair,
Quitting their Station, seek the General's Tent.—
Volscens impatient foams, and burns with Rage:
And, with his Sword unsheath'd, advanc'd direct
Against Euryalus.—Then Nisus, wild
With Terror and Amaze, cries out aloud,
Nor longer in the Covert of the Grove
Could hide himself, nor such a Sight endure.
Me, Me: I did it: on me turn your Steel,
Ye Rutuli: 'Twas all my Fraud: He nought
Nor could, nor durst: This Heav'n and conscious Stars
I call to witness: All his Crime, poor Youth,
Was loving his unhappy Friend too well.
Thus far he spoke: but driv'n with forceful Swing
The Sword had pierc'd Euryalus, and bor'd
His snowy Breast: He staggering rolls in Death:
The trickling Blood runs down his beauteous Limbs,
And on his Shoulder lies his Neck reclin'd.
So languishes, and dies a purple Flower,
Cut by the pointed Share: So Poppies droop,
O'er-charg'd with Rain and hang their sickly Heads.
And, with his Sword unsheath'd, advanc'd direct
Against Euryalus.—Then Nisus, wild
With Terror and Amaze, cries out aloud,
Nor longer in the Covert of the Grove
Could hide himself, nor such a Sight endure.
Me, Me: I did it: on me turn your Steel,
Ye Rutuli: 'Twas all my Fraud: He nought
Nor could, nor durst: This Heav'n and conscious Stars
I call to witness: All his Crime, poor Youth,
Was loving his unhappy Friend too well.
Thus far he spoke: but driv'n with forceful Swing
The Sword had pierc'd Euryalus, and bor'd
His snowy Breast: He staggering rolls in Death:
The trickling Blood runs down his beauteous Limbs,
And on his Shoulder lies his Neck reclin'd.
So languishes, and dies a purple Flower,
Cut by the pointed Share: So Poppies droop,
O'er-charg'd with Rain and hang their sickly Heads.
Then Nisus, rushing, darts into the Midst:
Volscens alone he seeks, at Volscens drives:
The pressing Foes throng round, and bear him back
With tilted Spears: He not the less springs on,
And whirls his flashing Sword: till in the Mouth,
Full opposite, of Volscens clam'ring loud
He plung'd it deep, and dying stabb'd his Foe:
Then on his breathless Friend his Body flung,
And there at last in pleasing Death repos'd.—
Volscens alone he seeks, at Volscens drives:
The pressing Foes throng round, and bear him back
With tilted Spears: He not the less springs on,
And whirls his flashing Sword: till in the Mouth,
Full opposite, of Volscens clam'ring loud
He plung'd it deep, and dying stabb'd his Foe:
Then on his breathless Friend his Body flung,
And there at last in pleasing Death repos'd.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |