The Aeneid. Публий Марон Вергилий
Читать онлайн книгу.
because they do not obey the dactylic hexameter. It seems that Virgil worked by first drafting his poetry in rough form, just to flesh out the story, and then painstakingly honed his words until they dropped into his chosen poetic template.
Virgil apparently took around ten years to complete The Aeneid. Although Virgil was not content with its form upon his death, Emperor Augustus saw enormous propaganda value in the work. It became part of the branding package that enabled the Romans to expand their empire and to continue governing it over such a vast expanse of territory. The Aeneid reminded Romans, both distant and near, to be proud of their heritage and to maintain their allegiance to the emperor, because they, like he, were descended from greatness.
The same legend told in prose would not have had the same impact as Virgil’s poetic work, because it needed to be both entertaining and informative. Saving Virgil’s work and sharing it widely meant that public performances could be held across the empire, where communities came together to share the experience. That way there could be no excuse for new generations, who might have never been anywhere near Rome, to think of themselves as anything but Roman. It was a cultural meme that served to keep everyone in the same meme pool – young and old, male and female, rich and poor. The message was that one didn’t need to live or have been raised in Rome to be Roman. All that mattered was that allegiance to Rome was perpetuated via exposure to education about the Roman legend. It was a cultural franchise that continued to work extremely well for a few hundred years after the lives of Virgil and Augustus.
Contents
Classic Literature: Words and Phrases adapted from the Collins English Dictionary
BOOK I
Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc’d by fate,
And haughty Juno’s unrelenting hate,
Expell’d and exil’d, left the Trojan shore.
Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore,
And in the doubtful war, before he won
The Latian realm, and built the destin’d town;
His banish’d gods restor’d to rites divine,
And settled sure succession in his line,
From whence the race of Alban fathers come,
And the long glories of majestic Rome.
O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate;
What goddess was provok’d, and whence her hate;
For what offense the Queen of Heav’n began
To persecute so brave, so just a man;
Involv’d his anxious life in endless cares,
Expos’d to wants, and hurried into wars!
Can heav’nly minds such high resentment show,
Or exercise their spite in human woe?
Against the Tiber’s mouth, but far away,
An ancient town was seated on the sea;
A Tyrian colony; the people made
Stout for the war, and studious of their trade:
Carthage the name; belov’d by Juno more
Than her own Argos, or the Samian shore.
Here stood her chariot; here, if Heav’n were kind,
The seat of awful empire she design’d.
Yet she had heard an ancient rumor fly,
(Long cited by the people of the sky,)
That times to come should see the Trojan race
Her Carthage ruin, and her tow’rs deface;
Nor thus confin’d, the yoke of sov’reign sway
Should on the necks of all the nations lay.
She ponder’d this, and fear’d it was in fate;
Nor could forget the war she wag’d of late
For conqu’ring Greece against the Trojan state.
Besides, long causes working in her mind,
And secret seeds of envy, lay behind;
Deep graven in her heart the doom remain’d
Of partial Paris, and her form disdain’d;
The grace bestow’d on ravish’d Ganymed,
Electra’s glories, and her injur’d bed.
Each was a cause alone; and all combin’d
To kindle vengeance in her haughty mind.
For this, far distant from the Latian coast
She drove the remnants of the Trojan host;
And sev’n long years th’ unhappy wand’ring train
Were toss’d by storms, and scatter’d thro’ the main.
Such time, such toil, requir’d the Roman name,
Such length of labor for so vast a frame.
Now scarce the Trojan fleet, with sails and oars,
Had left behind the fair Sicilian shores,
Ent’ring with cheerful shouts the wat’ry reign,
And plowing frothy furrows in the main;
When, lab’ring still with endless discontent,
The Queen of Heav’n did thus her fury vent:
“Then am I vanquish’d? must I yield?” said she,
“And must the Trojans reign in Italy?