The Project Gutenberg eBook, Two Dramatizations from Vergil , by Virgil, Translated by Frank Justus Miller

The epic is a drama on gigantic scale; its acts are years or centuries; its actors, heroes; its stage, the world of life; its events, those mighty cycles of activity that leave their deep impress on human history. Homer’s epics reënact the stirring scenes of the ten years’ siege of Troy, and the perilous, long wanderings of Ulysses before he reached his home; Vergil’s epic action embraces the fall of Troy and the never-ending struggles of Æneas and his band of exiles till Troy should rise again in the western world; Tasso pictures the heroic war of Godfrey and his crusaders, who strove to free the holy city of Jerusalem; and Milton, ignoring all bounds of time and space, fills his triple stage of heaven, earth, and hell with angels, men, and devils, all working out the most stupendous problems of human destiny.

Such gigantic dramas could be presented on no human stage. But in them all are lesser actions of marked dramatic possibility. Notable among these are the events culminating in the death of Hector, the home coming of Ulysses and his destruction of the suitors, Satan’s rebellion and expulsion from heaven, and the temptation and fall of man. All these furnish abundant material for the tragic stage; but all leave much to be supplied of speech and action before the full-rounded drama could take form. In the Æneid alone is found, among the minor parts which make up the epic whole, a dramatic action well-nigh complete—the love story of Æneas and Dido.

viThe ordinary student of Vergil is too much engrossed with an intensive study of the text, and has too near a view of the poem, to appreciate how fully this story is worked out in detail; how its speech, action, and events all lead to a dramatic climax. There is need only here and there of an interpolated lyric upon some suggested theme, a bit of Vergil’s description of action or feeling expressed in the actor’s words, an interjected line to relieve the strain of too long speech—all else is Vergil’s own, ready to be lifted out of its larger epic setting and portrayed upon the stage.

In arranging and translating this epic tragedy, the authors have made only such minor additions and alterations of the original as seemed necessary from the dramatic point of view. Prominent among these are the introduction of lyrics at certain points, the obviously necessary curtailing of the banquet scene by the omission of the long narrative of Æneas, and the removal behind the scenes of the final tragedy of Dido’s suicide. The lyrical parts have been set to original music in sympathy with the themes; stage action and scenery are suggested by outline drawings of the different settings; and idealized figures and costumes are reproduced from ancient vases and bas-reliefs. These figures have, in some cases, been assigned by scholars to other subjects; but they may be taken, for the purposes of the present work, as illustrative of the characters designated.

With full consciousness of the shortcomings of the work, but with the hope also of assisting the student in school and home to a fuller appreciation of the power and beauty of Vergil, this volume is respectfully presented to the public.

The first edition of this volume, containing only the Dido: An Epic Tragedy, a dramatization of the love story of Æneas and Dido, was published in 1900, and met with a gratifying success. Teachers of Vergil have found the book an interesting supplement to their study and presentation of the text; and in numerous instances high-school and college classes have staged the play with most excellent results.

The book has been out of print for several years; but the continued demand from teachers who desire to use it has made a second edition desirable. This is accordingly offered in the present volume, under a new title, and containing a second dramatization from Vergil—this from the second Æneid, the story of the Fall of Troy.

For ten years the Greeks had besieged Troy, and on the tenth they took and utterly destroyed that ancient city. The inhabitants who had escaped captivity and the sword, wandered in exile to many quarters of the earth. Now the chief band of exiles was led by Æneas, son of Venus and Anchises, and son-in-law of Priam, king of Troy.

After many adventures on land and sea, Æneas came, in the sixth year, to Sicily, where he was kindly entertained by Acestes, king of that land, and where his aged father died and was buried. Thence setting sail in the summer of the seventh year, he approached the shores of Africa. Here a violent storm arose which scattered and all but destroyed the Trojan ships. Æneas, with a number of his companions, was cast upon a desert coast, where they passed the night in gloomy forebodings. In the early morning, Æneas and Achates set forth to explore the land, and came to the newly founded city of Carthage.

Now Phœnician Dido, also, with a band of exiles, had fled from her native Tyre, to escape the persecutions of her brother, Pygmalion, who had already slain Sychæus, her husband. And to the land of Africa had she come, and built her a city, even the city of Carthage.

And so these two, Æneas, prince of Troy, and Dido, fugitive from Tyre, now meet in distant Africa and live the tragedy which fate has held in store.

Act I. Scene 1

Early morning; the open square before the temple of Juno on a height near Carthage. In the distance (see cut, 1, 2, 3) appear mountains, and at their foot lies the city, clustered about the harbor where ships are riding at anchor. The effect of elevation is increased by the unfinished columns and the tree-tops just showing above the low marble wall which encloses the square. This scene (4) is set nearer than 1, 2, 3, to increase the perspective.

At the first wing on the right (5), a colonnade, leading to a flight of steps, forms the entrance from the city below. On the same side, along the wall, is a broad marble seat (6), shaded by a wild crab tree, pink with bloom. The dark rug on the step before it is strewn with fallen petals. On the left is the front of the temple (7). Two large columns of white marble flank three broad steps leading to the platform. Above these columns, the architrave bears a frieze representing scenes from the Trojan war. Before the temple door is an altar on which fire is burning.

At the rise of the curtain, a chorus of Carthaginian maidens, clad in white, are seen kneeling before the altar on the temple steps; they sing a greeting to the dawn.

Enter Æneas and Achates, on their way into the city, evidently attracted hither by the singing. Æneas is resplendent in full armor. Achates wears the Phrygian costume: long trousers of brown, a tunic of deep old blue, ornate with embroidered patterns in gold and purple thread; over this a traveling cloak of brown. He carries two spears. The maidens withdraw and as their voices grow fainter Æneas and Achates kneel before the altar. The light brightens. A bugle call in the distance rouses them from their devotion. They arise. Enter Venus, dressed as a huntress.

Venus (Æneid, I. 321-324):

11Æneas (326-334):

Venus (335-350):

Æneas (III. 56, 57):

Venus (I. 351-370):

Æneas (372-385):

Venus (387-401):

As Venus vanishes from the temple steps she is illumined in rosy light.

14Æneas (402-409):

Deeply moved, he follows her vanishing figure.

Achates, seeking to divert Æneas, leads him to the parapet and points out to him the life awakening in the city below (422-429).

Æneas(430-437):

He remains in deep dejection.

15Achates, observing the pediment of the temple itself (456-458):

Æneas, deeply affected (459-463):

Achates, continuing to examine the pediment (467, 468):

Æneas (469-478):

Achates (479-482):

Æneas (483-487):

Achates (488-497):

Music is heard in the distance, flutes and zithers leading a chorus.

Æneas (498-501):

They conceal themselves in the foreground behind the columns of the temple. Dido, accompanied by her bands of courtiers, crosses the stage and ascends the 17temple steps. She seats herself on the throne which has been placed for her at the temple door.

Dido throughout this act is dressed in white, the symbol of her widowhood. Her dress, worn without himation, is of light filmy stuff draped in the Greek style, and unornamented save for a border of gold thread. Anna wears a dress of delicate blue, elaborately embroidered about the edges with a Greek pattern in gold thread. Her himation, wrapped gracefully about her, is a tender shade of rose pink.

In Dido’s train all classes are represented, gayly dressed courtiers, soldiers, and peasants. The men wear cloaks of dark blue and of rich brown over their tunics. The women are clad in dresses of cream color, pink, and faint green.

When all are on the stage, the general effect should be a mingling of pink, blue, brown, green, and white, which harmonize with the tints of the marble, of the flowering crab tree, the blue sky, and the purple mountains.

Suddenly Ilioneus and his following of Trojans appear. They wear the Phrygian costume, but over it the long brown traveling cloak. The singing ceases, the guards lower their spears, and great excitement reigns.

Æneas, aside (509, 510):

Achates, aside (511-514):

Æneas, aside (515-521):

Dido has arisen and with a gesture bids the soldiers stand aside. She sends a page to lead Ilioneus to her throne. Ilioneus kneels before her; she extends the scepter, which he touches.

18Ilioneus, rising and standing before the queen (522-558):

Shouts of applause from the Trojans.

Dido, with modest bearing (562-578):

She despatches courtiers to seek Æneas. Æneas and Achates, meantime, are greatly agitated by her words.

Achates, to Æneas, aside (582-585):

At this, Æneas suddenly reveals himself, to the great surprise of both Trojans and Carthaginians.

Æneas, to Dido (595-609):

The queen is silent with amazement, while Æneas greets his friends amid general rejoicing.

Dido, recovering from her astonishment (615-630):

They prepare to leave the scene. Dido despatches men to bear gifts to the Trojan fleet, and proclaims a banquet for the ensuing night in honor of Æneas and the Trojan princes.

22Æneas, to Achates (643-655):

To other Trojans:

The Trojans withdraw to do his bidding. The music sounds, and as the entire court moves from the scene, Dido sends some of her maidens back to throw incense upon the flames. They kneel upon the steps and Anna advances to the altar. As the smoke ascends, Dido and Æneas turn to follow the rest. Curtain.

Act I. Scene 2

A place in the deep, green forest. Ferns and flowers strew the ground and the sunlight falls through the branches in flecks of gold. In the foreground are two great moss-grown rocks, on one of which sits Cupid, draped with garlands of wild flowers, shooting his arrows at a heart-shaped target hung from the branches of a tree in the center of the stage. At one side sits Venus, absorbed in deep, troubled meditation. She has resumed the flowing draperies befitting a goddess. Pink or canary yellow will harmonize with the scene.

23Venus (657-662):

Suddenly her face is lighted with a new thought. She goes to Cupid and addresses him with insinuating gentleness.

Venus, to Cupid (664-688):

As she unfolds her plan, Cupid is filled with delight. He struts up and down, comically imitating Ascanius. When his mother has finished, he hastens to pick up his scattered arrows, puts them in his quiver, and struts off, looking back for his mother’s smile of approval. Curtain.

A banquet hall in Dido’s palace. Across the back of the stage is a colonnade (2), raised above the level of the hall. Through the columns there is a view (1) out over the moonlit sea. Two broad steps lead from the colonnade to a landing, from which again three steps at each side descend to the level of the hall (3). At the second wing (4) on each side, curtained doorways open into the side rooms, from which the servants hurry with viands for the table. At the first wing (5), half columns form the corner of the wall. In the center a sort of triclinium (6) is set for the feast, a broad, three-sided table flanked by couches upholstered in Tyrian purple and having pillows of blue and gold.

When the curtain rises, the moonlight is streaming down through the columns upon the scene. A tripod burns before the triclinium. Otherwise there is no light except as it flashes from the side rooms when the curtains are parted for an instant. Servants are strewing the banquet table with flowers and bringing in dishes of gold.

The antique bronze lamps, hung between the columns, are lighted one by one, till the scene is brilliant with light and color.

Music is heard within. The servants hastily finish their work. The royal party enters along the colonnade. Dido is still clad in white, but Anna and the other ladies of the court have assumed himations of royal purple, royal blue, brilliant yellow, and deep green. Æneas has laid aside his helmet and greaves, but still wears his breastplate of mail, although he carries on his shoulder a cloak of royal purple.

26The Carthaginians are more elaborately and richly dressed than in the first scene. The Trojans have put aside their outer cloaks, and wear tunics gayly embroidered in colors. The servants wear tunics of white.

The guests recline upon the couches. Æneas is in the seat of honor, while Dido has placed the supposed Ascanius upon the couch at her side. Many of the Carthaginians and the Trojans fill the hall.

Dido rises. There is silence through the room. She intones the invocation.

Dido (731-735):

The entire company repeats the invocation in unison. When they have finished, all bow and Dido pours forth the libation upon the table. Touching the cup to her lips, she passes it to the guests of honor.

While the cup is passing about, Iopas and his chorus sing.

Dido, who has been gazing upon Æneas in rapt admiration (753-756):

28Æneas, rising (II. 3-13)

All the Trojans and Carthaginians crowd around the tables, seating themselves to listen. As all faces are turned toward Æneas, he sinks back upon his couch, overcome with emotion. There is a moment of silent sympathy. Curtain.

Dido’s chamber. At the left, in front, is a shrine (1). An antique bust with an inscription above it, visible in the light from the glowing censer, indicates that it is sacred to Synchæus. Two broad steps raise it slightly from the level of the stage. On the same side in the middle a door (2), flanked by half columns. At the right, first wing, a door (3); half-way back on the same side (4), a curtained recess in which are hung Dido’s brilliant robes. In the center of the background (5), is a window overlooking the city and harbor, which show in the distance when the window is opened. It is reached by two steps covered with rugs, and the seats about the three sides of the recess are richly upholstered in green and gray.

Anna and Dido both wear simple white, while Barce, the aged nurse, is clad plainly in brown.

Barce lies asleep on a couch near the shrine, her face lighted by the glowing flame. Anna is asleep on a couch in the foreground.

Dido sits at the window in the moonlight, looking out into the night. She gets up and moves restlessly about the room. She kneels before the altar, replenishing the incense. She comes finally to her sister, and, wakening her, tells of her struggle against the new love.

32Dido (IV. 9-29):

Anna (31-53):

Dido, during this speech, has gone to her husband’s shrine. There is a mighty struggle in her soul between love and duty.

Barce, wakened from her sleep and seeing her mistress pale and anguish-stricken, throws herself before her. Dido finally yields and reaches her trembling hand to quench the censer. The old nurse clings to her in terrified appeal. Dido frees herself from her. She quenches the flame and draws the curtain before the shrine. Old Barce sits sobbing before the darkened altar.

Meanwhile the light has been changing into dawn and the sea and harbor begin to be visible through the open window. Dido crosses the chamber, and after a moment’s struggle draws back the curtains from before the recess where hang the brilliant garments laid aside during her widowhood. She takes down a purple mantle, and standing before a mirror, girds it about her with a golden girdle.

The sound of a trumpet and the shouts of the sailors are heard in the distance. Anna goes to the window, and seeing Æneas and his men below on the shore, draws Dido to the window. Dido gazes for a minute and then, filled with her new passion, goes forth with her sister to meet Æneas. Curtain.

A fragrant nook on Mount Ida. Across the stage at the first wing a low, broad marble wall (1), forming one end of a colonnade which leads back to an arch (2), through which the distant sea is visible (3). The columns at the first wing (4) and the wall between them are over-clambered by a flowering vine, which has strewn its delicate yellow petals over the wall and the marble floor before it. Behind the wall (5) a garden of brilliant blossoms, with a path leading through it to the arch in the background. There is the pleasant sound of falling water.

Venus, seated upon the low marble wall is discovered keeping watch over Ascanius who lies asleep before her his pink body hidden in a drift of yellow petals. The deep blue himation, which has fallen in graceful folds across the wall behind her, forms a rich contrast in color to the delicate tints of the marble, of the flowers, and of her own dress of tender pink. Juno in a brilliant purple dress, approaching through the garden, comes upon her in a fury of wrath.

Juno (93-104):

Venus (107-114):

Juno (115-126):

Venus assents, and, bending over the sleeping boy, shows by a satiric smile that she perceives the purpose of her rival. Curtain.

Act II. Scene 3

A forest scene. Huge trees and moss-grown rocks. Across the back, a cliff in the face of which at the last wing on the left is the opening to a mighty cavern. Through the trees growing along the summit of this cliff, comes the shimmer of the distant sea.

Far and near through all the forest, trumpets are sounding. Attendants armed with spears and nets, and with hounds in leash for the chase, hurry across the scene. Dido, Anna, Æneas, Ascanius, followed by the entire court in brilliant array, cross the scene amid the flourish of trumpets.

All the costumes are very brilliant with gold, purple, deep blue, and wood green. Dido is dressed in purple and gold, Anna in brown and green with a leopard skin instead of a himation. Æneas is in full armor. All the Trojans and Carthaginians are dressed and armed for the chase.

One of the attendants has seated himself in the foreground to mend his broken bow. As the sound of the trumpets grows fainter, a band of Carthaginian youth, hurrying to join the hunt, descry him and stop to laugh at him, because he is left behind. He throws down his bow in disgust, and points in the direction of the hunt with a gesture of impatience.

Attendant (191-194):

Approval on the part of all the youth.

Meanwhile it has grown darker, and there comes a crash of thunder. All flee in terror. As the storm increases, the courtiers flee across the scene in every direction. The trumpets are heard calling through all the woods.

At last, amid the crash of thunder and the roar of the tempest, Dido and Æneas enter, seeking a place of shelter. Discovering the cavern, they flee to that. Lightning flashes, the thunder roars, the wild cries of the nymphs are heard.

The scene closes in almost utter darkness. Curtain.

The temple of Jupiter Ammon in Libya. In the center of the stage an altar (1), raised high from the level of the stage by four broad steps (2). Pillars of barbaric form and decoration at the first and second wings (3), between which are hung curtains (4) of rich, oriental pattern. At the second wing a wall (5) joins the two pillars. In the distance (6), across a wide tract of desert, Carthage can be seen, showing only as a cluster of glimmering lights except when the lightning flashes fitfully along the horizon. The scene is lighted only by the glare of the altar fire.

Iarbas wears a robe of scarlet worked in gold.

Iarbas, kneeling before the altar, his face lifted defiantly upward (206-218):

Sullen mutterings of distant thunder. Curtain.

Scenes 2 and 3

The temple colonnade, as in Act I. Scene 1. Æneas, surrounded by Achates, Ihoneus, and many other Trojans, is directing the work in the city below them. He has in his hands the plan of the citadel, which he is tracing for his countrymen. Mercury appears upon the temple steps, crosses the stage, and stands a moment behind Æneas and his companions, unnoticed.

Mercury, to Æneas, as the Trojans turn and discover him (265-276):

While Mercury is giving his message, Dido, followed by her maidens, comes forth from the temple, and as she catches the import of his words, stands horror-stricken upon the temple steps, unnoticed by Æneas or his men, whose faces are turned intently toward Mercury.

Æneas, overwhelmed with astonishment, aside (281-294):

To his attendants:

Mnestheus and the others withdraw to perform his commands. Æneas remains buried in deep thought. He turns and sees Dido standing before him. They gaze at each other in silence.

Dido (305-330):

Æneas, seemingly unmoved by her appeal (333-361):

Æneas, as he speaks, has become as one seeing in vision the glorious future of his race. Dido, who has stood with averted face and scornful look, now turns upon him, in a passion of grief and rage.

44Dido (365-387):

She works herself up to a frenzy, and as she finishes she turns to leave him with queenly scorn, staggers, and falls. Her servants carry her from the scene, leaving Æneas in agony of soul, struggling between love and duty. Curtain.

Dido’s chamber as in Act II. Scene 1. Anna sits in the foreground, spinning. The old nurse, Barce, is bustling about, hanging up her mistress’ brilliant robes, which she has cast aside for her old mourning gown of simple white. Dido is seated at the latticed window watching the Trojans in the harbor below prepare for their departure. She is weeping.

Barce, coming cautiously to Anna so that Dido may not hear (416-418):

The shouts of the sailors are heard. Dido groans. Anna, hastily putting aside her work, goes to her sister, whose face is buried in her hands. Barce takes up the spinning, stopping at times to wipe her eyes.

Dido, lifting her face to her sister (416-418):

She gives way to her tears.

Anna, caressing her sister:

Dido (419-434):

Anna, preparing to go (412):

Dido, at the window, watches her sister as she takes her way down to the harbor. When she can no longer see her in the gathering twilight, she turns with a sigh to her chamber.

The old nurse, Barce, totters to her. Dido places her head wearily on the old woman’s shoulder. Barce, drawing her to a couch, tries to soothe her. Dido starts up in terror, as if she saw some fearful shape. She flees before it to her husband’s shrine, and is only recalled from the fancy when she finds the curtains drawn before it.

Barce comes tremblingly to her. Dido in bitter remorse draws the curtains from the shrine and kneels before it. Barce hurries away and soon returns with a lighted candle, which she brings to her mistress. Dido lights the censer. Curtain.

The same chamber in Dido’s palace. The shrine of Sychæus is adorned with flowers; fire glows on the altar. Barce sits spinning at one side.

Dido is pacing the room with fierce energy. She goes to the window from time to time, then renews her fierce walking to and fro. Suddenly she presses her hand to her head as if a new thought had come to her. Her face assumes an expression of cunning. She picks up a golden goblet, and with a gesture to the old woman sends her to fill it.

When Barce has gone, Dido stealthily but quickly takes Æneas’ sword from the wall, and, seating herself, with trembling fingers draws it from its scabbard. She feels the edge, shrinking in terror at the thought of her intended suicide. With a shudder, she presses the cold blade against her neck.

As she is thus meditating, her sister is heard coming. Dido quickly conceals the sword beneath the draperies of the couch. She assumes an air of gayety, kissing her sister and drawing her to a seat.

Dido (478-498):

Anna assents to her plan and hurries away to execute it. Dido quickly takes the sword from its hiding-place and in tremulous haste hangs it again upon the wall. Barce enters. Dido turns, fearing detection, but seeing that the old nurse has not suspected her, she takes the cup in her trembling fingers and drains it. Curtain.

Act IV. Scene 3

Dido’s chamber, night. Dido is seated in the moonlight that streams through the open casement. A band of maidens, clad in white, are singing softly to her.

Chorus of maidens (apropos of 522-528):

They quietly withdraw. Dido is convulsed with weeping.

Dido (529-532; 534-552):

She leaves the window and paces the room.

She sprinkles incense on the flame at the shrine of Sychæus. Dawn begins to brighten. The sailors are heard singing in the distance. Dido starts. She rushes to the window, and looking out, sees the Trojan fleet sailing away over the sea. She cries out in frenzy.

Dido (590-629):

The servants rush in terrified during her passionate speech, and as she utters her curse, stand cowering before her. She dismisses with a gesture all except old Barce, who approaches her mistress.

(634-640):

Barce totters away to do her bidding. Dido takes Æneas’ mantle and sword from the wall, and unsheathes the sword.

(651-662):

She rushes forth from the chamber in her frenzy. The sailors’ chorus is repeated fainter and fainter. In a moment her death cry is heard. The servants rush in, and finding their mistress gone, hasten in the direction of her cry. Their lamentation is heard. They return bearing the body of the queen upon a couch. She has fainted, and upon her bosom the wound shows red and terrible. Anna enters, beside herself with grief.

Anna, kneeling beside the couch, addresses Dido, who revives enough to smile upon her sister (676-685):

The sailors’ chorus sounds in the distance. Aroused by this, the dying queen half raises herself upon the couch. The servants throw open the casement and the Trojan ships are seen far away, sailing off over the sea.

Dido falls back lifeless. Curtain.

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Act I. Scene 1

The plain in front of Troy; the city walls; the sea; and, in the distance, Tenedos. Morning, without the gates. Joyful crowds of men, women, and children pour through the open doors. They gather about the strange wooden horse which stands without, and excitedly inquire what it means, and what shall be done with it. Thymoetes voices the sentiment of one party that it should be taken within the walls and set upon the citadel; while Capys and his adherents urge that they should examine the mystery where it stands, and destroy it. Great confusion reigns. The sentiment of Thymoetes seems about to prevail (26-39).

Enter Laocoön, running, followed by a band of priestly attendants, and shouting while still at some distance.

Laocoön (42-49):

He hurls his spear, which sticks fast in the wooden horse and stands quivering there.

Enter Trojan shepherds, dragging in a man bound with thongs. They approach the king. The bystanders jibe at and mock the captive. The unknown stands as if bewildered and distraught, and at last cries (69-72):

The Trojans in wonder and with growing pity urge him to explain himself. He at last proceeds, having with an apparent effort regained his self control (77-104):

Here the stranger pauses in seeming despair and resignation to his fate. The Trojans urge him to go on with his story. He resumes (108-144):

The Trojans are moved to tears by this tale of woe; and Priam bids the chains be stricken from him. He then addresses the prisoner with friendly words.

Priam (148-151):

Sinon stretches his freed hands to the heavens. He speaks excitedly and as one inspired.

100Sinon (154-194):

Recovering himself, he goes on more quietly, and with an air of perfect sincerity.

The Trojans are entirely satisfied with this explanation and treat Sinon with respectful consideration. At this juncture, two huge serpents come up out of the sea, and, while the people flee shrieking away on all sides, they make their way to Laocoön where he stands sacrificing at the altar, and enfold him and his two sons in their deadly coils (195-227).

Scene 4

Great excitement follows. People say that Laocoön has perished justly, since he impiously violated the sacred horse, and loudly demand that the creature be taken within the walls (228-249):

A voice from the crowd:

Another voice:

They hastily enlarge the gate, attach ropes to the horse, and put rollers under its feet, many willing hands lay hold of the ropes and pull the horse along. Boys and girls dance and sing around the workers. The horse sticks at the threshold of the gate, and Cassandra, who has been looking on as one entranced, cries out forebodingly.

Cassandra:

But the people, not heeding her, press on and disappear within the city walls with the wooden horse, on the way to the citadel. Everywhere are heard sounds of delirious joy.

Night. The chamber of Æneas. He lies sleeping calmly upon his couch. Enter Ghost of Hector, wan and terrible, bearing in his hands the sacred images of the Penates.

Æneas, starting up to a sitting posture, as if talking in a dream (281-286):

Hector, with deep sighs and groans (289-295):

He makes as if to give the sacred images to Æneas, and vanishes.

106A confused sound of distant shouting and clashing of arms fills the room. Æneas leaps from his couch, now fully awake, and stands with strained and attentive ears. The truth dawns upon him as the sounds grow clearer, and as he can see from his window the red flames of burning Troy. He snatches up his arms and is rushing from the room when Panthus hurries in bearing sacred images in his hands and leading his little grandson.

Æneas (322):

Panthus (324-335):

At this, Æneas joins Panthus and together they rush out into the city.

A street of Troy, lit by the moonlight and the glare of burning buildings. Trojans rush in from different sides and rally to Æneas.

Æneas (348-354):

The little band hurries off toward the noise of battle in neighboring streets. Enter from the other direction straggling bands of Greeks, drunk with victory. They burn and pillage on all sides, temples and homes alike. Re-enter Trojans led by Æneas. Androgeos, a Greek, thinking them to be Greeks, goes up to them.

Androgeos (373-375):

Androgeos suddenly perceives that these are foes, and is struck dumb with amazement. The Trojans rush upon him and slay him together with the others of his band.

Corœbus, one of Æneas’ band, exultingly (387-391):

They exchange arms with the dead Greeks. Thus arrayed, they mingle with the parties of Greeks who straggle in, and slay them. The Greeks, not understanding this strange turn of affairs, flee away in terror. This action is repeated at intervals several times.

Enter a band of Greeks led by Ajax, the Atridæ, and others, dragging Cassandra roughly along by the hair. Her hands are tied with thongs. Corœbus, though the odds are overwhelmingly against him, rushes in to save his beloved Cassandra. The other Trojans, because of their disguise of Greek armor, are attacked by their own friends stationed at near by points of vantage, and now the Greeks themselves, recognizing the ruse at last, overwhelm the little Trojan band by force of numbers. Other Greeks pour in from all sides and add their testimony that these are Trojans. In the desperate encounter many of the Trojans fall.

Æneas performs Herculean feats of arms, and slays many Greeks, but is himself unhurt. At last he and a few followers escape into a street leading to Priam’s palace, whence loud and continued shouting can be heard.

Scene 3

At Priam’s palace (viewed from without), desperately attacked by Greeks and defended by Trojans. (a) The assailants attempt by scaling ladders to mount to the flat, turreted roof of the palace, while the defendants hurl down upon these darts and stones, and pry off whole towers which fall with a mighty crash. The air is filled with the thunderous noise of these falling masses and with the other confused shouts and sounds of a desperate conflict.

(b) Pyrrhus with a strong band of Greeks is endeavoring to batter down the gates of the palace at its main entrance.

Scene 4

Priam’s palace from within. All is confusion and terror. Women rush from room to room, with disheveled hair streaming, and with cries of wild despair. A crowded mass of men are attempting to defend the main entrance. Overhead can be seen and heard the defenders on the roof opposing the attack from without.

In the central open court of the palace, upon the steps of a great altar overshadowed by a laurel tree, Hecuba and a group of women have seated themselves, huddling there in the hope of protection from the sanctity of the altar. Suddenly old Priam comes out into the court, hurriedly adjusting his armor.

109Hecuba, calling to him (519-524):

Priam joins the women at the altar.

Polites falls dead at the feet of Priam and Hecuba.

Priam, springing up and facing Pyrrhus (535-543):

He hurls his spear with feeble strength at Pyrrhus. The spear sticks ineffectually in the opposing shield.

110Pyrrhus, scornfully (547-550):

He drags the old man to the altar and slays him there. Exit Pyrrhus, leaving the bloody corpse of the old man upon the ground. The women are carried off as prisoners by the Greeks who now come thronging in.

Scene 5

In the now deserted palace near the shrine of Vesta. Helen is lurking for protection within the shrine.

Æneas, passing by and seeing Helen (577-587):

He is rushing into the shrine with drawn sword when suddenly Venus appears before him.

Venus (594-620):

Æneas, overcome by these revelations, and resigned to fate, retires.

The atrium in the palace of Æneas. The aged Anchises lies prone upon the couch. Creüsa, Ascanius, and other members of the household are huddled together in the same room, listening in awestruck silence to the confused sounds of battle without. The room is lit by the red glare of burning buildings. Enter Æneas, breathless with his haste.

Æneas, going up to his father and attempting to lift him in his arms (635, 636):

Anchises, resisting (637-649):

Æneas and all the household join in entreating Anchises to go with them (651-653):

But the old man stubbornly persists in his refusal.

Æneas, seeing his father immovable (656-670):

Attendants bring him his sword and shield which he hurriedly fits in place.

Æneas is rushing toward the door, when Creüsa intercepts him, pushing toward him their little son, Ascanius.

Creüsa, kneeling (675-678):

Suddenly a tongue of flame is seen to leap and play among the locks of the boy. His parents, in consternation, attempt to extinguish this, but to no effect.

Anchises, seeing the portent, starts up with wondering joy, stretching his hands upward in prayer (689-691):

A sudden crash of thunder resounds without, and through the open impluvium a bright star is seen shooting across the sky.

Anchises, rising from his couch in trembling haste (701-704):

Meanwhile from without the glare of the conflagration increases, and the shouting of the victorious Greeks is heard approaching nearer and nearer.

Æneas (707-720):

He takes the old man upon his shoulders, first spreading over his back a lion’s skin.

With his father upon his shoulders and leading Iulus by the hand he takes his way out of the house. The household follows, leaving the room deserted.

A dark street near the Ida gate. Æneas, Anchises, and Ascanius as before. Suddenly through the darkness there comes the distant sound of feet and shouting as of pursuers.

Anchises, peering in the direction of the sound (733, 734):

At this Æneas hastens his steps and leaves the scene, his band hurrying after him.

Scene 3

At the ancient temple of Ceres without the walls. The fugitives come straggling in in various bands, a motley array, Æneas and his immediate followers among the rest. Æneas watches them as they come and gather about him, counting and identifying them. He now discovers that Creüsa is missing.

Æneas (738-748):

To his friends:

He puts on his full armor, and rushes back through the dark gate into the city.

Scene 4

A deserted street in Troy, lit up fitfully by smoldering fires. Æneas enters, peering through the gloom on all sides, and calling loudly upon the name of his wife. Suddenly a shadowy form appears before him.

120The Ghost of Creüsa (776-789):

Æneas starts forward with a cry to embrace the ghost, but it eludes his grasp and vanishes from sight. He sorrowfully turns away and leaves the scene.

Scene 5

The gray dawn breaks; Mount Ida looms dimly in the distance; the exiles a weary, discouraged band of men, women, and children, take their way out into the unknown world.