The complete text of Aeneid , Book I, an interlinear translation, complete metrical scansion, and an accompanying, more polished translation are just part of this goldmine. At the bottom of each page below the text, each Latin word is completely parsed and the commentary includes useful references to the revised grammars of Bennett, Gildersleeve, Allen and Greenough, and Harkness and delves into word derivations and word frequencies, making this volume helpful for the competent reader of Latin as well as the novice. Description Reviews Other People Purchased Special Features Complete Latin text of Aeneid , Book I Complete interlinear translation of the Latin text A more elegant translation in the margin next to the text A full grammatical, syntactical, and etymological commentary on each word in the text Complete metrical scanning of Aeneid , Book I. File Name: aeneid book 6 interlinear translation. He attended school at Cremona and Mediolanum Milan , then went to Rome, where he studied mathematics, medicine and rhetoric, and finally completed his studies in Naples. He entered literary circles as an "Alexandrian," the name given to a group of poets who sought inspiration in the sophisticated work of third-century Greek poets, also known as Alexandrians.
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When Turnus saw the Latins exhausted, and weakened by their military reverse, himself the subject of every gaze, his own promise to them yet unfulfilled, he burned implacably, and unprompted, and raised his courage. Carry out the holy rite, father, and draw up the marriage contract.
Allow me to say this, un-gently, openly stripped of all guile, and take it to heart: it was forbidden for me to ally my daughter to any of her former suitors, and all gods and men decreed it. Conquered by love for you, conquered by kinship, and the tears of a sorrowful wife, I broke all bounds: I snatched the betrothed girl from my son-in-law to be, and drew the impious sword. You see, Turnus, what events, what war dogs me, what a heavy burden you above all bear. Why did I waver so often?
What madness changed my decision? What would your Rutulian kin say, and the rest of Italy, if I betrayed you to death let chance deny those words! Consider the fortunes of war: pity your aged father, whom his native Ardea keeps apart from us, sorrowing. I too can scatter spears and no lack of steel, from my hand, father, and blood flows from the wounds I make as well.
His goddess mother will be far from him, she who covers his flight with mist, like a woman, and hides in empty shadows. Whatever danger awaits you in that battle awaits me too, Turnus: I would leave this hateful light with you and will never, as a prisoner, see Aeneas as my son-in-law. Her virgin looks showed such colour as when one stains Indian ivory with crimson dye, or as white lilies redden when mixed with many a rose. Idmon, as a messenger, carry my unwelcome words to the Trojan leader.
Their charioteers stood around eagerly patting their echoing chests, with the flat of their hands, and combing their flowing manes. Turnus drew a breastplate, stiff with gold and pale bronze, over his shoulders, fitted his sword and shield in position, and the horns with their crimson crest: the god with the power of fire had wrought the sword for his father, Daunus, and dipped it, glowing, in the waters of the Styx.
BkXII Juno Speaks to Juturna The next dawn had scarcely begun to sprinkle the mountain summits with its rays, at that time when the horses of the sun first rise from the deep ocean, and breathe light from lifted nostrils: the Rutulians and Trojans had measured out the field of combat, under the massive walls of the city, and were preparing hearths and turf altars for their mutual gods.
The Ausonian army marched out, and their ranks, armed with spears, poured through the crowded gates. All the host of Trojans and Tuscans streamed out on the other side, arrayed in their various armour, equipped with steel, as if the bitter conflict of war called out to them. As soon as each had retired to their own ground, at the given signal, they planted their spears in the earth, and leant their shields on them. Then women, and weak old men, and the unarmed crowd, poured out eagerly, and gathered on towers and rooftops, or stood on the summit of the gates.
Whenever Fortune allowed, and the Fates permitted the Latin state to prosper, I protected Turnus and your city. Now I see a warrior meeting with an unequal destiny, and a day of Fate and inimical force draws near. I cannot look at this combat, they agreed to, with my eyes. Perhaps better things will follow for the wretched. I teach you daring. BkXII Aeneas and Latinus Sacrifice Meanwhile the kings drove out: Latinus in a four-horsed chariot of massive size twelve golden rays circling his shining brow, emblems of his ancestor, the Sun , Turnus behind a snow-white team, brandishing two spears with broad steel blades in his hand.
But if victory agrees that our contest is mine as I think more likely, and may the gods by their will prove it so , I will not command the Italians to submit to Trojans nor do I seek a kingdom for myself: let both nations, undefeated, put in place an eternal treaty.
I will permit your gods and their rites: Latinus my father-in-law will keep his weapons, my father-in-law will keep his accustomed power: the Trojans will build walls for me, and Lavinia will give her name to a city. Then with due rite they slaughtered the sacrificial beasts over the flames, tore out the entrails, while they were alive, and piled the alters with heaped dishes.
Turnus added to the unrest, in advancing with silent tread and venerating the altar humbly, with downcast eyes, and by his wasted cheeks and the pallor of his youthful body.
Juturna added another greater spur, showing a sign in the depths of the sky, none more significant to disturb Italian minds, and charm them by the wonder of it.
The Italians paid attention, and amazing to see all the birds wheeled, clamouring, in flight and, in a cloud, drove their enemy through the air, darkening the sky with their wings, until, defeated by force and the weight, the bird gave way, and, dropping the prey from his talons into the river, fled deep into the clouds. I understand it, and recognise the gods: snatch up the sword with me, with me at your head, o unhappy race, fragile birds, whom a cruel foreigner terrifies with war, ravaging your coast with violence.
He will take flight and sail far away over the deep. Close ranks, together, and defend the king who has been snatched from you, in battle. BkXII Renewed Fighting He spoke, and running forward hurled his spear at the enemy: the hissing cornel shaft sang, and cut unerringly through the air, At one with this, at one, was a mighty shout the army all in uproar, and hearts hot with the turmoil.
The spear flew on, to where, by chance, nine handsome brothers stood in its path, all of whom one faithful Tuscan wife had borne to Arcadian Gylippus, It struck one of them, a youth of great beauty, in shining armour, at the waist, where a stitched belt rubbed against his stomach, and the buckle bit into the overlapping ends, pierced his ribs, and hurled him to the yellow sand. But his spirited band of brothers, fired by grief, drew their swords or snatched their iron spears, and rushed forward blindly.
The Laurentine ranks charged them: Trojans and Agyllines and Arcadians in decorated armour, poured in from the other side: so all had one longing, to let the sword decide. They stripped the altars, there was a fierce storm of spears in the whole sky, and a steely rain fell: wine-bowls and hearthstones were carried off: Latinus himself fled, taking his defeated gods, the treaty void. Others harnessed their chariots or leapt on their horses, and waited with drawn swords.
Against them, Corynaeus snatched a charred brand from an altar, and aiming a blow at the charging Ebyso dashed flames in his face: his great beard flared and gave off a smell of burning. Corynaeus following through his blow, clutched the hair of his stunned enemy in his left hand and brought him to earth with a thrust of his bent knee: then stabbed him in the side with his straight sword.
Harsh repose and iron slumber pressed on his eyes and their light was sunk in everlasting night. Why this sudden tide of discord? O, control your anger! The agreement has already been struck, and its terms fixed.
I alone have the right to fight: Let me do so: banish your fears. As soon as Turnus saw Aeneas leave the ranks, his captains in confusion, he blazed with the fervour of sudden hope: he called for weapons and horses as one, leapt proudly into his chariot, and gripped the reins in his hands. He gave many a brave man death in his swift passage.
Many he overturned half-alive, crushed the ranks under his chariot, or seizing his spears showered them on those fleeing. Just as when blood-drenched Mars is roused, and clashes his shield, by the icy streams of Hebrus and, inciting war, gives rein to his frenzied horses, so that they fly over the open plain outrunning the south and west winds, and farthest Thrace groans to the beat of their hooves, while around him the forms of black Terror, Anger and Treachery, speed, the companions of the god: with the same swiftness Turnus lashed his horses, smoking with sweat, through the midst of the conflict, trampling on enemies piteously slain, while the galloping hooves splashed bloody dew, and trampled the gore mixed with sand.
Next he gave Sthenelus to death, Thamyrus, and Pholus, the latter close to, the former at a distance, from a distance too both sons of Imbrasas, Glaucus and Laudes, whom Imbrasus himself had raised in Lycia, and equipped with matching armour, to fight hand to hand, or outstrip the wind on horseback.
As when the blast of the Edonian northerly sounds over the Aegean deep, and drives the breakers to shore, while brooding gusts in the sky put the clouds to flight, so, wherever Turnus cut a path, the lines gave way, and the ranks turned and ran: his own speed carried him on, and, as the chariot met it, the wind tossed his flowing plume.
Phegeus could not endure his attack or his spirited war-cry: he threw himself at the chariot and with his right hand wrenched the heads of the swift horses aside, as they foamed at the bit. BkXII Venus Heals Aeneas While Turnus was victoriously dealing death over the plain, Mnestheus and loyal Achates, with Ascanius by their side, set Aeneas down inside the camp, bleeding, supporting alternate steps with his long spear.
But Iapyx, in order to delay the fate of his dying father, chose knowledge of the virtues of herbs, and the use of medicine, and, without fame, to practise the silent arts. Aeneas stood leaning on his great spear, complaining bitterly, amongst a vast crowd of soldiers, with Iulus sorrowing, himself unmoved by the tears. No luck guided his course, nor did Apollo his patron help, while cruel terror grew greater and greater over the plain, and evil drew near. Now they saw the sky standing on columns of dust: the horsemen neared and arrows fell thickly in the midst of the camp.
This Venus brought, her face veiled in dark mist, this, with its hidden curative powers, she steeped in river water, poured into a glittering basin, and sprinkled there healing ambrosial juice and fragrant panacea. Now, without force, the arrowhead slipped from the wound, following the motion of his hand, and fresh strength returned to Aeneas, such as before.
Why are you standing there? Now my hand will protect you in war, and lead you to great rewards. Make sure later, when your years have reached maturity, that you remember: let your father Aeneas, and your uncle Hector inspire your soul, by recalling their example.
Then the plain was a chaos of blinding dust, and the quaking earth shook under the tramp of feet. Turnus saw them advance, from the rampart opposite: the Ausonians saw, and a cold tremor ran to the marrow of their bones: Juturna was the first of all the Latins to hear and recognise the sound, and she fled in fear.
Aeneas flew ahead, racing his dark ranks over the open plain, As when the weather breaks and a storm cloud moves towards land, over the deep ocean ah, the hearts of wretched farmers know if from far off, and shudder: it brings ruin to trees, and havoc to harvests, everything far and wide is destroyed , the gales run before it and carry their roar to the shore: so the Trojan leader drove his ranks against the foe, thickly they all gathered to him in dense columns.
Thymbreus struck mighty Osiris with his sword, Mnestheus killed Arcetius: Achates killed Epulo, Gyas killed Ufens: even Tolumnius the augur fell, first to hurl his spear straight at the enemy. A shout rose to heaven, and in turn the routed Rutulians turned their backs in a cloud of dust, fleeing over the field. Aeneas himself did not deign to send the fugitives to their death, nor did he attack the foot-soldiers, cavalry or those hurling missiles: he tracked only Turnus, searching through the dense gloom, Turnus alone he summoned to combat.
As when a dark swallow flies through the great house of some rich lord, winging her way through lofty halls gathering tiny crumbs and scraps of food for her noisy young, now twittering in the empty courtyards, now by the damp ponds: so Juturna was drawn by the horses through the enemy centre and, flying in her swift chariot, criss-crossed the whole plain, now here, now there, she gives evidence of her triumphant brother, not allowing him close combat, flying far away.
Nevertheless Aeneas traversed her winding course to meet him, tracking him, calling him loudly among the ranks. As often as he set eyes on his enemy, and tried to match the flight of the swift horses in his course, as often Juturna turned and wheeled the chariot.
Ah, what to do? Vainly he fluctuated on the shifting tide, and diverse concerns called his thoughts away. Messapus, who happened to be carrying two strong spears tipped with steel, advanced lightly towards him, levelled one, and hurled it with unerring aim.
Aeneas stopped, and gathered himself behind his shield sinking on one knee: the swift spear still took off the tip of his helmet, and knocked the plumes from the crest. BkXII Aeneas And Turnus Amongst The Slaughter What god can now relate for me such bitter things as these, who can tell of such varied slaughter, the deaths of generals, whom Turnus now, and now the Trojan hero, drove in turn over the field?
Jupiter was it your will that races who would live together in everlasting peace should meet in so great a conflict? Aeneas meeting Rutulian Sucro in the first battle that brought the Trojan attack to a halt quickly struck him in the side, and drove the cruel steel through the ribs that protect the heart, where death come fastest.
Turnus threw Amycus from his horse, and Diores his brother, attacking them on foot, striking one with the long lance as he advanced, the other with his sword, then hanging both their severed heads from his chariot carried them away dripping with blood. Like fires set burning from opposite sides of a dry forest into the thickets of crackling laurel, or foaming rivers falling swiftly from the mountain heights, roaring and racing seawards, each leaving its path of destruction, so Aeneas and Turnus with no less fury swept through the battle: now anger surged within: now their hearts which knew no defeat were bursting: now with all their strength they set out to do harm.
Turnus met Hyllus as he charged, roaring with boundless pride, and hurled a spear at his gilded forehead: piercing the helmet the weapon lodged in his brain. The Laurentine field saw you fall also, Aeolus, on your back, sprawled wide on the ground.
BkXII Aeneas Attacks The City Now his loveliest of mothers set in his mind the idea of moving against the walls, and turning his army on the city, swiftly, to confound the Latins with sudden ruin. While he tracked Turnus here and there through the ranks and swept his glance this way and that, he could see the city, free of fierce warfare and peacefully unharmed. Suddenly an image of a more ambitious act of war inflamed him: he called the generals Mnestheus, Sergestus and brave Serestus, and positioned himself on a hillock, where the rest of the Trojan army gathered round in a mass, without dropping their shields or spears.
Do you think I can wait until Turnus can face battle with me, and chooses to meet with me again, though defeated before? O citizens, this man is the fountainhead and source of this wicked war. Quickly, bring burning brands, and re-establish the treaty, with fire. Some ran to the gates and cut down the leading defenders, others hurled steel, and darkened the sky with missiles. Aeneas himself, among the leaders, raised his hand, at the foot of the wall, accused Latinus in a loud voice, and called the gods to witness that he was being forced into battle again, that the Italians were doubly enemies, another treaty was broken.
As soon as the wretched Latin women knew of the disaster, first her daughter Lavinia fell into a frenzy, tearing at her golden tresses and rosy cheeks with her hands, then all the crowd around her: the wide halls echoed to their lamentations. The breeze bore a clamour to him mingled with an unknown dread, and the cheerless sounds of a city in chaos met his straining ears.
What is this clamour that rises from the distant city? Aeneas is attacking the Italians, and stirring conflict: let our hands too deal cruel death to the Trojans.
But who desired you to be sent down from Olympus to suffer such labours?
Virgil's Æneid, books I-VI; the original text with a literal interlinear translation
Shelves: latin , textbooks , favorites I used this text as an undergraduate in an intermediate Latin class 35 years ago. I fondly recall how reading the Aeneid in Latin for the first time was a completely transformative experience. Before my encounter with Vergil, I had no idea that literature could possibly be so incredibly beautiful and moving. His diction, rhythm, narrative genius and virtuoso command of the language struck me like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly, I emerged from an abyss of darkness and entered a new world I used this text as an undergraduate in an intermediate Latin class 35 years ago. Even more satisfying to me now is to witness my own students responding to Vergil in the same way, decades after my own first reading of the poem.
The Aeneid: Interlinear Translation
When Turnus saw the Latins exhausted, and weakened by their military reverse, himself the subject of every gaze, his own promise to them yet unfulfilled, he burned implacably, and unprompted, and raised his courage. Carry out the holy rite, father, and draw up the marriage contract. Allow me to say this, un-gently, openly stripped of all guile, and take it to heart: it was forbidden for me to ally my daughter to any of her former suitors, and all gods and men decreed it. Conquered by love for you, conquered by kinship, and the tears of a sorrowful wife, I broke all bounds: I snatched the betrothed girl from my son-in-law to be, and drew the impious sword. You see, Turnus, what events, what war dogs me, what a heavy burden you above all bear. Why did I waver so often? What madness changed my decision?