Vida: SCACCHIA, LUDUS (1559)

Ludimus effigiem belli, simulataque veris
Praelia, buxo acies fictas, et ludicra regna,
Ut gemini inter se reges albusque, nigerque
Pro laude oppositi certent bicoloribus armis.
Dicite, Seriades Nymphae, certamina tanta
Carminibus prorsus vatum illibata priorum.
Nulla via est: tamen ire juvat, quo me rapit ardor,
Inviaque audaci propero tentare juventa.

We play the effigy of war, and battles simulated to the real,
with boxwood the feigned battle-lines, and play-kingdoms,
so that the twin kings between themselves, the white and the black,
may contend for the praise of the opposing side with bi-colored arms.
Dicite, Seriad Nymphs, such great contests
utterly untouched by the songs of earlier bards.
There is no path: yet it delights to go where passion snatches me,
and I hasten to attempt pathless things with audacious youth.

Vos per inaccessas rupes, et inhospita euntem
Saxa, Deae, regite, ac secretum ostendite callem.
Vos hujus ludi in primis meminisse necesse est.
Vos primae studia haec Italis monstrastis in oris
Scacchidis egregiae monimentum insigne sororis.

You, through inaccessible crags and inhospitable rocks as I go,
goddesses, guide me, and show the secret footpath.
You above all must remember this game.
You first on the Italian shores displayed these pursuits—
the distinguished monument of your illustrious sister Scacchis.

Juppiter Aethiopum sedes, et Memnonis arva
Iverat, Oceani mensas dignatus amici,
Qui sibi tum optatis junxit Tellurem Hymenaeis.
Affuit una omnis Superum chorus: omnia festo
Aequoris immensi resonabant littora plausu.
Ut dapibus compressa fames, mensaeque remotae,
Quo Superum mentes ludo mulceret inani,
Oceanus tabulam afferri jubet interpictam.

Jupiter had gone to the seats of the Ethiopians and the fields of Memnon,
and had vouchsafed himself to the tables of his friend Oceanus,
who then joined Earth to himself with the longed-for Hymenaeal rites.
The whole chorus of the gods above was present together: all the shores
of the immense sea resounded with festal applause. When hunger was checked by the feasts, and the tables removed,
so that he might soothe the minds of the gods with an idle game,
Oceanus orders a painted, chequered board to be brought in.

Sexaginta insunt et quattuor ordine sedes,
Octono. Parte ex omni via limite quadrat
Ordinibus paribus, necnon forma omnibus una
Sedibus, aequale et spatium, sed non color unus.
Alternant semper variae, subeuntque vicissim
Albentes nigris, testudo picta superne
Qualia devexo gestat discrimina tergo.

Sixty and four seats are present in order, by eights.
On every side the way quadrates with a boundary
in equal ranks; and likewise one form for all
the seats, and equal space, but not a single color.
Varieties alternate always, and in turn there succeed
the white to the black, like the painted tortoise above
bears such distinctions on its sloping back.

Tum Superis tacite secum mirantibus inquit:
Marti aptam sedem, ludicraque castra videtis.
Hoc campo adversa acies spectare licebit
Oppositis signis belli simulacra ciere,
Quae quondam sub aquis gaudent spectacla tueri
Nereides, vastique omnis gens accola ponti,
Si quando placidum mare, et humida regna quierunt.
En vero simulata adsunt qui praelia ludant.

Then, with the gods above silently marveling to themselves, he says:
You see a seat apt for Mars, and play-camps.
On this field it will be permitted to behold opposing battle-lines
and, with ensigns set opposite, to stir the simulacra of war,
spectacles which at times beneath the waters the Nereids
and the whole race that dwells by the vast sea delight to behold,
whenever the placid sea and the moist realms are at rest.
Lo, indeed the make-believe ones are at hand to play at battles.

Sic ait, et versa in tabulam deprompsit ab urna
Arte laboratam buxum, simulataque nostris
Corpora, torno acies fictas albasque, nigrasque,
Agmina bina pari numeroque, et viribus aequis,
Bis nivea cum veste octo, totidemque nigranti.
Ut variae facies, pariter sunt et sua cuique
Nomina. Diversum munus, non aequa potestas:
Illic, et reges paribus capita alta coronis,
Et regum pariter nuptas in bella paratas
Cernere erat.

Thus he spoke, and, the box turned into a board, he drew forth from an urn
boxwood wrought by art, and bodies counterfeited to our
own, battle-lines fashioned by the lathe, both white and black,
two columns equal in number and with equal forces,
twice eight with snowy garment, and just so many in black.
As the faces are diverse, so likewise there are for each its own
names. A different office, not an equal power:
there too kings with their heads high with equal crowns,
and equally the consorts of kings prepared for wars
it was possible to behold.

Sunt qui pedibus certamina inire
Sueti, sunt et equis qui malint, quique sagittis,
Nec deest quae ferat armatas in praelia turres.
Bellua. Utrinque Indos credas spectare Elephantes.

There are those who are accustomed to enter contests on foot,
there are also those who would prefer with horses, and those with arrows,
nor is there lacking the beast that bears armed towers into battles.
On both sides you would think you were beholding Indian elephants.

Jamque aciem in versum statuunt, structaeque cohortes
Procedunt campo, castrisque locantur utrisque.
Linea principio sublimes ultima reges
Parte utraque capit quartis in sedibus ambos
Tractu eodem adversos inter se. Sex tamen aequis
In medio sedes spatiis hinc inde relictae.
Sede albus sese nigra tenet, ater in alba.

And now they set the battle-line in a row, and the marshaled cohorts
advance upon the field, and encampments are placed for both.
The line at the beginning takes the exalted kings at the far edge
on each side, both in the fourth seats,
along the same line, opposed to each other. Yet six seats
with equal intervals are left in the middle on this side and that.
On a black seat the white holds himself, the black on a white.

Proxima reginas capit orbita. Regibus ambae
Haerent quaeque suo, dextrum latus altera, laevum
Altera lege datis tangunt stationibus, atrumque
Atra tenet campum, spatio stat candida in albo,
Et proprium servant prima statione colorem.
Inde sagittiferi juvenes de gente nigranti
Stant gemini, totidem pariter candore nivali,
Nomen Areiphilos Graii fecere vocantes,
Quod Marti ante alios cari fera bella lacessant.

The next orbit takes the queens.
Both cling to their kings, each to her own; the one touches the right flank, the other the left, by the law in the allotted stations,
and the dark lady holds the dark field; by the spacing the bright stands on the white,
and in their first station they keep their proper color.
Then the arrow-bearing youths of the swarthy clan
stand as twins, and just so many likewise of snowy whiteness;
the Greeks, calling them Areiphiloi, fashioned the name,
because, dear to Mars before others, they provoke fierce wars.

Continuo hoc inter rex, necnon regia conjux
Clauduntur medii: duo dehinc utrinque corusci
Auratis equitis sagulis, cristisque decori
Cornipedes in aperta parant certamina Martis.
Tum geminae velut extremis in cornibus arces
Hinc atque hinc altis stant propugnacula muris,
Quas dorso immanes gestant in bella Elephanti.
Postremo subeunt octo hinc, atque inde secundis
Ordinibus pedites, castrisque armantur utrisque
Armigeri partim regis, partimque ministrae
Virginis armisonae, quae prima pericula belli,
Congressusque ineant primos, pugnamque lacessant.

At once, between these, the king, and likewise the royal consort,
are enclosed in the middle: then next two gleaming on either side,
chargers adorned with gilded cavalry short-cloaks and with crests,
prepare in the open the contests of Mars. Then twin, as though citadels
at the farthest wings, here and there stand bulwarks with lofty walls,
which enormous elephants carry on their backs into war. Lastly there advance
eight on this side and as many on that in second ranks, foot-soldiers, and in both camps
they are armed—arm-bearers partly of the king, and partly of the ministering
virgin resounding with arms—who should enter the first dangers of war,
and the first encounters, and challenge the fight.

Non aliter campis legio se buxea utrinque
Composuit duplici digestis ordine turmis,
Adversisque ambae fulsere coloribus alae,
Quam Gallorum acies alpino frigore lactea
Corpora si tendant albis in praelia signis
Aurorae populos contra, et Phaethonte perustos
Insano Aethiopas, et nigri Memnonis alas.
Tum pater Oceanus rursus sic ore locutus:
Coelicolae jam quaenam acies, quae castra videtis,
Discite nunc (neque enim sunt haec sine legibus arma)
Certandi leges, nequeant quas tendere contra.
Principio alterni reges in praelia mittunt
Quem pugnae numero ex omni elegere suorum.

Not otherwise did the boxwood legion on both sides array itself on the fields,
with squadrons disposed in a double order,
and both wings flashed with opposed colors,
than if the battle line of the Gauls, milky with Alpine frigidity,
were stretching their bodies to battle beneath white standards,
against the peoples of Aurora, and the Aethiopians scorched by mad Phaethon,
and the wings of black Memnon.
Then father Oceanus again spoke thus from his mouth:
Heaven-dwellers, what battle line, what camps you now see,
learn now (for these arms are not without laws)
the laws of contest, which none may contravene.
To begin with, the two kings in turn send into the fray
the one whom, from all their number, they have chosen for the fight.

Si niger arma ferens primus processit in aequor,
Continuo adversum semper se candidus offert,
Nec plures licet ire simul facto agmine in hostem.
Propositum cunctis unum, studium omnibus unum
Obsessos reges inimicae claudere gentis,
Ne quo impune queant fugere, atque instantia fata
Evitare, etenim capiunt ita praelia finem.
Haud tamen interea cuneis obstantibus ultro
Parcunt, sed citius quo regem sternere letho
Desertum evaleant, caedunt ferro obvia passim
Agmina.

If the black, bearing arms, first advanced onto the level field,
straightway the white ever sets himself opposite;
nor is it permitted that more go at once, with a formed column, against the foe.
One purpose is common to all, one zeal is common to all:
to shut in the besieged kings of the hostile nation,
lest they be able to flee anywhere with impunity, and evade the pressing fates;
for thus the battles take their end.
Yet meanwhile, though wedges stand in the way, they do not therefore spare,
but, that they may the sooner strike the king, left deserted, down to death,
they hew with iron the bands that meet them everywhere
in their path.

Rarescunt hic illic funere semper
Utraque castra novo, magis ac magis area belli
Picturata patet, sternuntque, caduntque vicissim.
Sed caedentem opus est sublati protinus hostis
Successisse loco, et conatus vindicis alae
Sustinuisse semel. Mox si vitaverit ictum,
Inde referre licet se in tutum praepete planta.

They grow thin here and there with death ever anew;
both camps with ever-new death, more and more the area of war,
painted, lies open, and they lay low and they fall by turns.
But it is needful that the one cutting down should immediately have succeeded to the place of the removed enemy,
and should once have withstood the attempts of the avenging wing.
Soon, if he shall have avoided the blow,
then it is permitted from there to withdraw himself into safety with a nimble foot.

At pedites prohibent leges certaminis unos,
Cum semel exierint (facilis jactura) reverti.
Nec vero incessus cunctis bellantibus idem,
Pugnandive modus. Pedites in praelia euntes
Evaleant unam tantum transmittere sedem,
Inque hostem tendunt adversi, et limite recto.

But the laws of the contest forbid the footmen alone,
once they have gone forth (an easy forfeiture), to return.
Nor indeed is the gait the same for all combatants,
nor the mode of fighting. The footmen, going into battle,
are able to cross only a single square,
and they advance toward the enemy opposite, along a straight line.

Congressu tamen in primo fas longius ire,
Et duplicare gradus concessum. At cominus hostem
Cum feriunt, ictum obliquant, et vulnera furtim
Intentant semper lateri, cavaque ilia caedunt.
Sed gemini claudunt aciem qui hinc inde Elephanti,
Cum turres in bella gerunt, ac praelia miscent,
Recta fronte valent dextra, laevaque retroque
Ferre aditum contra, campumque impune per omnem
Proruere, ac totis passim dare funera castris.

Yet at the first encounter it is lawful to go farther,
and it is permitted to double one’s steps. But when at close quarters they
strike the enemy, they oblique the blow, and stealthily aim wounds
always at the flank, and hew the hollow flanks. But the twin Elephants,
who on this side and that close the battle-line, when they bear towers into wars
and mingle the combats, with a straight front they are strong to withstand
an approach on the right, on the left, and from the rear, and to overthrow
the whole field with impunity, and everywhere deal deaths to the entire camp.

Ne tamen obliquis occultent nixibus ictum,
Qui tantum mos concessus pugnantibus arcu
Dilectis Marti ante alios; nam semper uterque
Fertur in obliquum, spatiis nigrantibus alter,
Alter candenti semper se limite versat,
Directisque ineunt ambo fera bella sagittis:
Nec variare licet, quamvis fas ire per omnem
Hinc atque hinc campum, atque omnes percurrere sedes.
Insultat sonipes ferus, atque repugnat habenis.
Numquam continuo stipata per agmina ductu
Procurrit.

Yet, lest they conceal the stroke with oblique thrusts,
which practice is conceded only to those fighting with the bow,
favorites of Mars before others; for each of the two always
is borne on the slant—one over blackening spaces,
the other ever turns himself along the shining line—
and with arrows aimed straight both enter fierce wars:
nor is it permitted to shift, though it is lawful to go through the whole
field on this side and that, and to run through all the squares.
The wild steed vaults, and struggles against the reins.
Never with a continuous course through packed ranks
does it run forward.

Tantum sursum sese arduus effert
Semper, et in gyrum gressus magno impete lunat
Curvatos, duplicemque datur transmittere sedem.
Si nigrante prius campo expectaverit, album
Mox petere, et sedis semper mutare colorem
Lex jubet, ac certo semper se sistere saltu.
At regina furens animis pars optima belli
In frontem, in terga, ac dextram, laevamque movetur,
Itque iter obliquum, sed semper tramite recto
Procedit, neque enim curvato insurgere saltu
Cornipedum de more licet.

Only upward he lifts himself, lofty,
always, and with great impetus he arcs in a circle
his curved steps, and it is granted to traverse a double square.
If he has first waited on a black field, the law
bids him soon to seek the white, and always to change the color of his seat,
and always to set himself by a fixed leap.
But the queen, raging in spirit, the best part of the war,
is moved to the front, to the rear, and to the right and left,
and she goes an oblique course, yet always advances by a straight track,
nor indeed is it permitted to rise with a curved leap
after the manner of the horn-footed steeds.

Non terminus olli,
Nec cursus meta ulla datur. Quocunque libido
Impulerit, licet ire, modo ne ex agmine quisquam
Hostilive, suove aditus occludat eunti.
Nulli etenim super educto fas agmina saltu
Transiliisse.

No boundary for him,
nor is any turning-post of the course given. Whithersoever desire
shall have driven, it is permitted to go, provided that no one from the rank,
whether hostile or his own, shuts the approaches to the one going.
For to none indeed is it licit, by an uplifted leap,
to overleap the ranks.

Equiti tantum haec concessa potestas.
Cautius arma movent gentis regnator uterque,
In quibus est omnis spes, ac fiducia belli.
Omnibus incolumi rege stat cernere ferro:
Sublato pugna excedunt, et castra relinquunt.

To the Knight alone this power has been granted.
More cautiously each ruler of the nation moves his arms,
in whom is all the hope and confidence of war.
All stand to decide it by steel, with the king unharmed:
once he is removed, they withdraw from battle and leave the camp.

Ille adeo in bello captus secum omnia vertit.
Ergo haerens cunctatur, eum venerantur, et omnes
Agmine circumstant denso, mediumque tuentur.
Utque armis saepe eripiant, sua corpore bello
Objiciunt, mortemque optant pro rege pacisci.

He, indeed, so taken in war, turns everything over with himself.
Therefore, sticking fast, he hesitates; they venerate him, and all
stand around him in a dense column, and watch over him in the middle.
And so that they may often rescue him by force of arms, they expose
their own bodies to war, and they choose to make a bargain for death on behalf of the king.

Non illi studium feriendi, aut arma ciendi:
Se tegere est satis, atque instantia fata cavere.
Haud tamen obtulerit se quisquam impune propinquum
Obvius, ex omni nam summum parte nocendi
Jus habet. Ille quidem haud procurrere longius ausit:
Sed postquam auspiciis primis progressus ab aula
Mutavit sedes proprias, non amplius uno
Ulterius fas ire gradu, seu vulneret hostem,
Seu vim tela ferant nullam, atque innoxius erret.

He has no zeal for striking, nor for inciting arms:
to cover himself is enough, and to beware the pressing fates.
Yet no one who presents himself near at hand, meeting him, will do so with impunity,
for from every quarter he holds the supreme right of harming.
He indeed would not dare to run farther forward:
but after, under the first auspices, having advanced from the hall
and changed his proper seats, it is not lawful to go further by more than one
step, whether he wound the foe,
or whether the weapons bear no force at all, and he stray harmless.

Hic mos certandi, haec belli antiquissima jura.
Nunc aciem inter se certantes cernite utramque.
Sic ait: at quoniam, quoties fera bella fatigant
Mortales, Superi studiis diversa foventes
Ipsi etiam inter sese odiis bellantur iniquis,
Maximaque interdum toto ardent praelia caelo,
Juppiter omnipotens folio rex fatus ab alto,
Omnes abstinuisse jubet mortalibus armis:
Atque minis, ne quem foveant, perterret acerbis.

This is the manner of contending, these the most ancient laws of war.
Now behold each battle-line, contending with one another.
Thus he speaks: but since, whenever savage wars weary
mortals, the gods above, fostering opposing aims,
they themselves also wage war among themselves with unjust hatreds,
and at times the greatest battles blaze through the whole heaven,
Jupiter omnipotent, the king, having spoken from his lofty throne,
bids all to abstain from arms toward mortals:
and with bitter threats he terrifies them, lest they favor anyone.

Tum Phoebum vocat intonsum, Atlantisque nepotem
Egregium, furto peperit quem candida Maia,
Insignes ambos facie, et florentibus annis.
Nondum Mercurius levibus talaria plantis
Addiderat: nondum Titania lumina agebat
Per liquidum curru gemmato Phoebus olympum,
Tantum humeros pharetra insignis, et crinibus aureis.
Hos pater adversis solos decernere jussit
Inter se studiis, et ludicra bella fovere,
Ac partes tutari ambas, quas vellet uterque.

Then he calls Phoebus unshorn, and the distinguished descendant of Atlas,
whom fair Maia bore by stealth, both marked out in countenance and in flourishing years.
Not yet had Mercury added the winged sandals to his light soles:
not yet did Phoebus drive the Titanian lights
through the liquid olympus in his gem-studded chariot,
only notable for a quiver on his shoulders, and for golden hair.
These the father ordered, they alone, to contend with opposing zeal
between themselves and to foster playful wars,
and to defend both parties, whichever each might wish.

Necnon proposuit victori praemia digna.
Dii magni sedere. Deum stat turba minorum
Circumfusa: cavent sed lege, et foedere pacto,
Ne quisquam voce, aut nutu ludentibus ausit
Praevisos monstrare ictus.

He likewise proposed prizes worthy of the victor.
The mighty gods sat. A throng of the lesser gods stands
encircling; but they keep themselves in check by law and by a treaty-compact,
lest anyone, by voice or nod, dare to show to the players
the prevised blows.

Quem denique primum
Sors inferre aciem vocet, atque invadere Martem,
Quaesitum; primumque locum certaminis albo
Ductori tulit, ut quem vellet primus in hostem
Mitteret: id sane magni referre putabant.
Tum tacitus secum versat quem ducere contra
Conveniat, peditemque jubet procedere campum
In medium, qui reginam dirimebat ab hoste.
Ille gradus duplices superat: cui tum arbiter ater
Ipse etiam adversum recto de gente nigranti
Tramite agit peditem, atque jubet subsistere contra
Advenientem hostem, paribusque occurrere in armis.

Whom, finally, the Lot should summon first to bring in the battle-line and to invade War
was asked; and it gave the first place of the contest to the white
Leader, so that he might first send against the enemy whom he wished:
they thought that to matter greatly.
Then silently he revolves with himself whom it is fitting to lead against,
and he orders a foot-soldier to advance into the field
to the middle, which separated the queen from the foe.
He passes over double steps; to meet him then the black umpire
himself also drives, on a straight path, a foot-soldier from the black race
opposite, and orders him to halt against the approaching enemy,
and to encounter him with equal arms.

Stant ergo adversis inter se frontibus ambo
In mediis campi spatiis, ac mutua tentant
Vulnera nequicquam; neque enim vis ulla nocendi est
Armigeris, tractu dum miscent praelia eodem.
Subsidio socii dextra, laevaque frequentes
Hinc atque hinc subeunt, late et loca milite complent.
Alternantque vices.

They stand, therefore, both with fronts opposed to each other
in the middle spaces of the field, and they try mutual
wounds in vain; for there is no force of harming
for the men-at-arms, while they mingle the battles along the same track.
Comrades come up for aid, on the right and on the left, in numbers,
on this side and that, and they fill the places far and wide with soldiery.
And they alternate turns.

Necdum tamen horrida miscent
Praelia, sed placidus mediis Mars ludit in armis,
Excursusque breves tentant, tutique tenent se.
Jamque pedes nigri rectoris, qui prior hostem
Contra iit, obliquum laeva clam strinxerat ensem,
Atque album e mediis peditem citus abstulit armis,
Illiusque locum arripuit praestantibus ausis
Ah miser ! instantem lateri non viderat hostem.
Ipse etiam cadit, et pugnas in morte relinquit.
Tum cautus fuscae regnator gentis ab aula
Subduxit sese media, penitusque repostis
Castrorum latebris extrema in fauce recondit,
Et peditum cuneis stipantibus abditus haesit.

Nor yet, however, do they mingle horrid battles,
but placid Mars plays in the midst of arms,
and they try brief excursions, and keep themselves safe.
And now the foot-soldier of the black ruler, who first went
against the foe, had stealthily with his left hand drawn a slanting sword,
and swiftly removed the white foot-soldier from the midst of arms,
and seized his place by outstanding audacities—
Ah, wretch! he had not seen the enemy pressing upon his flank.
He himself too falls, and leaves the combats in death.
Then the cautious ruler of the dusky tribe from the court
withdrew himself from the center, and deep within the re-hidden
hiding-places of the camp he stows himself in the farthest pass,
and, concealed, he stuck fast, packed in by wedges of foot-soldiers.

Nec mora, surgit eques bellator laevus utrinque,
Et mediis hinc inde insultant coetibus ambo,
Alternique ruunt, et spargunt fata per hostes.
Sternuntur pedites passim miseranda juventus,
Quod nequeant revocare gradum: sonat ungula campo
In medio, et totis miscentur funera castris.
Dum vero peditum intentus Latonius heros
Caedibus instat atrox, equitemque per agmina versat
Vastatorem alae piceae, longe Arcada major
Ardor agit tacitis jamdudum invadere furtis
Magnum aliquid, peditumque ultro saepe obvia transit
Agmina, cornipedem ducens in praelia laevum,
Qui regi insidias tendens huc vertitur, atque huc,
Per mediosque hostes impune infrenis oberrat.

No delay, the left-wing warlike horseman rises on both sides,
and from here and there both assault the midmost companies,
and in turn they rush, and scatter dooms among the enemies.
The foot-soldiers are strewn everywhere, a pitiable youth,
because they cannot recall their step: the hoof rings on the field
in the midst, and deaths are mingled through the whole camp.
While indeed, intent upon the footmen, the Latonian hero
presses grimly upon the slaughters, and wheels through the ranks the horseman,
the devastator of the pitch-black wing, a zeal far greater than the Arcadian’s
drives him to invade by silent stealth long since,
to attempt something great; and he often, of his own accord, passes through the meeting
ranks of footmen, leading his left-hand horn-footed steed into battle,
who, laying snares for the king, turns now this way and now that,
and, unbridled, roves with impunity through the midst of the foes.

Constitit, optataque diu statione potitus
Lethum intentabat pariter regique, Elephantique,
Alae qui dextro cornu turritus in auras
Attollens caput ingenti se mole tenebat.
Delius ingemuit clauso succurrere regi
Admonitus. Namque indefensum in morte Elephantem
Linquere se videt, atque ambos non posse periclo
Eripere, et fatis urgeri cernit iniquis.

He stood firm, and, having obtained the long-desired station,
he was aiming death equally at the king and at the Elephant,
who, turreted, on the right horn of the wing, lifting his head into the airs,
was sustaining himself with enormous mass.
The Delian groaned, admonished to succor the hemmed-in king
For he sees that he leaves the Elephant undefended to death, and that he cannot
snatch both from peril, and he perceives that they are pressed by iniquitous fates.

Cura prior sed enim est trepidum defendere regem,
Quem rapit in dextrum latus. At niger emicat ense
Stricto eques, et magnis Elephantem intercipit ausis,
Damnum ingens; neque enim est saevae post virginis arma
Bellantum numero ex omni magis utilis alter.
Non tamen impune evades, ait acer Apollo;
Et peditum cuneis, densaque indagine cingit.

But the prior care indeed is to defend the anxious king,
whom it is snatching to the right flank. But a dark horseman flashes out with
sword drawn, and with great daring intercepts the Elephant—
a vast loss; for after the arms of the savage maiden
there is no other among all the belligerents more useful.
“Yet you will not escape unpunished,” says keen Apollo;
and he girds him with wedges of foot-soldiers and a dense ring of toils.

Ille igitur trepidare metu, certique pericli
Frustra velle fugam, nam hinc fata minatur Amazon,
Inde obstat conserta phalanx. Tandem alius acto
Virginis ense cadit, pulchrae solatia mortis.
Aestuat alba cohors latere heu minus utilis uno,
Et magis atque magis furit acri accensa dolore.

He therefore trembles with fear, and, with danger sure, in vain desires flight, for on this side the Amazon threatens fates, on that the interlocked phalanx blocks. At length another falls by the maiden’s driven sword—solace of a fair death. The white cohort seethes, on one flank—alas—less serviceable by one, and more and more it rages, inflamed with sharp grief.

Sicut ubi dextrum taurus certamine cornu
Amisit, dum se adverso fert pectore in hostem,
Saevior in pugnam ruit armos sanguine, et alte
Colla animosa lavans: gemitu omnis sylva remugit,
Talis erat facies, caesi post fata Elephantis,
Candentis turmae. Hinc furiis majoribus ardet
Phoebus, et ultrices hortatur in arma cohortes
In ferrum et caedes pronus, cupidusque nocendi,
Incautusque ambas perdit sine lege phalangas.
Dumque hostes pariter cernat procumbere victos,
Ipse suos morti indefensos objicit ultro.

Just as when in contest a bull has lost his right horn,
as he bears himself with opposed breast straight against the foe,
more savage he rushes into the fight with shoulders bloodied, and, high,
bathing his spirited neck: with a groan the whole forest re-bellows,
such was the aspect, after the doom of the slain Elephant,
of the gleaming white cohort. Then with greater furies burns
Phoebus, and he urges the avenging cohorts to arms,
bent to steel and slaughters, eager to do harm,
and incautious he ruins both phalanxes without rule.
And while he sees the enemies alike sink down conquered,
he himself moreover exposes his own, undefended, to death.

Mercurius melior furto cunctatur, et haerens
Usque alium ex alio spectando praevidet ictum.
Saepe ille ex longo meditatus fata superbae
Reginae peditem perdendum cominus offert,
Dissimulatque dolos; mox poenitet, et trahit alto
Improbus, errorem fingens, suspiria corde.
Jamque sagittiferi e dextro spicula cornu
Virginis in latus albentis tendebat.

Mercury, better at theft, hesitates, and clinging
ever, by watching, he foresees one blow after another.
Often he, after long meditation, offers up to the proud
Queen, at close quarters, a foot-soldier to be destroyed,
and he dissimulates his stratagems; soon he repents, and draws from deep
the shameless one, feigning an error, sighs from his heart.
And now from the right horn of the arrow-bearing bow
he was aiming the little darts into the gleaming flank of the maiden.

Id hostis
Haud primum sensit, peditemque trahebat in atram
Laeva aciem rerum ignarus. Verum improba cladem
Et tantas Erycina Venus miserata ruinas,
Incauto juveni furtim tacito innuit ore,
Atque oculis (Phoebo nam forte adversa sedebat)
Nulla mora, ad nutus divae tremefactus Apollo
Constitit, atque oculis late agmina circumspexit,
Et subito insidias sensit, peditemque retraxit,
Quem contra impulerat dextra impiger. atque periclo
Reginam eripuit.

That the enemy did not perceive at first, and he was dragging the foot-soldier into the dark left battle-line, ignorant of the state of things.
But Erycinian Venus, pitying the shameless disaster and such great ruins, stealthily with silent mouth signaled to the incautious youth, and with her eyes (for she chanced to be sitting opposite to Phoebus).
Without delay, shaken at the goddess’s nods, Apollo halted, and with his eyes widely surveyed the ranks, and suddenly sensed the ambush, and drew back the foot-soldier, whom with his right hand he had energetically driven against them; and from peril he snatched the Queen.

Tum Maia Atlantide cretus
Littoreum caveae concessum vocibus implet,
Reginam captam ingeminans: fremit undique turba
Coelicolum studiis variis, seseque tuetur
Phoebus, et his alto fatur de littore verbis:
Quae porro invidia est dextram ludicra petenti
Praemia corrigere incautam, in meliusque referre,
Cum nec pacta vetent ? Quod si Maia sate posthac
Id sedet omnino prohiberi: lege caveto,
Quique prior fuerit digitis impulsus in hostem,
Sive albus, piceusve fuat, discrimine nullo
Ille eat, et dubii subeat discrimina Martis.
Dixit, et haec toto placuit sententia circo
Coelicolis. Venerem obtutu clam versus acerbo
Juppiter increpuit.

Then the one begotten of Maia, the Atlantid,
fills the littoral cavea, the place granted to voices, with cries,
redoubling “the queen captured:” on every side the crowd roars
with the various partisanships of the heaven‑dwellers; and Phoebus defends himself,
and with these words from the high shore he speaks:
What, then, is the envy at one seeking the ludic prizes
to correct the incautious one with his right hand, and to set things in a better way,
since neither the pacts forbid? But if, O son of Maia, hereafter
it is resolved that this be altogether prohibited—provide by law,
and whoever first shall have been driven by the fingers against the foe,
whether he be white or pitch‑black, with no distinction
let him go, and undergo the hazards of doubtful Mars.
He spoke, and this opinion pleased the heaven‑dwellers throughout the whole circus.
Jupiter, having secretly turned a bitter gaze upon Venus,
rebuked her.

Nec sensit filius Arcas.
Sed puer ingemuit labefactus corda dolore
Ingenti. Vix se tenuit quin ludicra castra,
Injectisque acies manibus confunderet ambas.

Nor did the son Arcas perceive it.
But the boy groaned, his heart shaken by enormous pain.
He scarcely held himself back from the mock camp,
and, with hands thrust in, from confounding both battle-lines.

Tum secum statuit furtis certare, dolisque
Omnibus, ac totis fraudes innectere castris.
Jam tum igitur juvenem pharetratum in praelia ducens
Cornipedis simulare gradus jubet. Ocius ille
Emicat, atque albae reginae fata minatur.

Then he resolved with himself to contend in thefts, and in all deceits
and to weave frauds through the whole camp.
Now then, leading the quivered youth into battles
he bids him simulate the paces of the hoof‑footed steed. Swiftly he darts forth,
and threatens doom to the white queen.

Non Phoebum latuere doli. Subrisit, et ore
Versus ad astantes: Quamvis accommoda furtis
Mercurio sit dextra, inquit, fraudique, dolisque,
Callide Atlantiada, invigiles, haud me tamen ultra
Fallere erit: jamque improbe iniquam corrige dextram.
Spectantum cunei ingenti risere theatro,
Atque Arcas, veluti deceptus imagine falsa,
Summisit buxum concesso in praelia gressu
Arcum intendentem.

The tricks did not escape Phoebus. He smiled, and with his face turned toward the bystanders said: Although the right hand be accommodating to thefts for Mercury, and to fraud and to tricks, cleverly, Atlantiad, you keep vigilant; yet you will not deceive me further: and now, shameless one, correct your unfair right hand.
The wedges of the spectators laughed in the vast theater, and Arcas, as if deceived by a false image, sent forward the boxwood, with leave granted to advance into battle—the bow-bending archer.

Vigilat jam cautus Apollo
Fraudesque, insidiasque timens, occultaque furta.
Ille etenim persaepe, manu dum ducit in hostes
Alternam buxum, jus contra, et foedera pacta,
Implicitans celeres digitos, duo corpora bello
Objiciat simul, observet nisi providus hostis.
Jamque equitem contra nigrantem candidus arcum
Intendens sese opposuit pharetratus, et arcet
Reginae jugulo intentum.

Already now wary Apollo keeps watch,
fearing frauds and insidious ambushes and hidden thefts.
For very often, while with his hand he leads against the foes
the alternate boxwood piece, against law and covenanted treaties,
entwining his swift fingers, he might set two bodies into war
at once, unless a provident enemy observe it.
And now, the white one, bending the bow against the black knight,
the quiver-bearer set himself in opposition, and wards off
what is aimed at the queen’s jugular.

Tum dexter oberrat
Huc atque huc Elephas, niveisque exultat in armis.
Haeserat in medio, dominae, regique minatus
Albus eques ratus impune, et jam forte superbus
Nequicquam spoliorum animum pascebat amore.
Non tulit hanc speciem juvenis pharetrarus, et arcu
Contendit calamum, seseque immitit in hostem,
Fata licet pedes intentet, moriturus in armis
Insigni pro laude.

Then on the right the Elephant wanders here and there, and exults in snow-white arms.
The white knight had stuck in the middle, threatening the queen and the king,
thinking himself with impunity, and now perchance proud,
he was in vain feeding his spirit with a love of spoils.
The quivered youth did not endure this sight, and with the bow
he strains the shaft, and launches himself against the enemy,
though the foot-soldiers may aim doom at him, destined to die in arms
for distinguished praise.

Alvo mediae haesit arundo
Stridula, et ima chalybs descendit in ilia adactus.
Volvitur ille excussus humique, et calcibus auras
Verberat: in ventos vita indignata recessit.
Inde sagittiferurm sternit pedes: hunc pedes alter
Hostili de plebe necat: pugna aspera surgit.

In the mid-belly the shrilling shaft stuck
and the steel, driven, went down into the lowest entrails.
He rolls, cast out and on the ground, and with his heels he lashes the airs:
into the winds his life, indignant, withdrew.
Then a foot-soldier lays low the arrow-bearer: this one another foot-soldier
from the hostile plebs kills: a harsh battle rises.

Turribus occurrunt ingenti mole Elephanti,
Saeva pharetrigeri contendunt spicula nervis,
Quadrupedumque gemit bicolor sub verbere campus.
Incaluere animi parte ex utraque, et in armis
Concurrunt densi. Simul omnis copia gentis
Albaeque, piceaeque, duces, ambaeque phalanges,
Confusaeque acies magno certamine totis
Densantur campis.

They meet the towers, Elephants of immense mass;
the quiver-bearing men strain savage darts on the sinews (bowstrings),
and the bicolored plain of quadrupeds groans under the lash.
Their spirits grew hot on either side, and in arms
they clash in dense array. At once the whole force of the nation,
both the white and the pitch-black, the leaders, and both phalanxes,
and the battle-lines, thrown into confusion, with great contest across the whole
are thickened on the plains.

Virtus, fortunaque in unum
Conveniunt. Hi nunc victores agmina versa
Aequore agunt toto, versis referuntur habenis
Nunc iidem, variantque vices, et fluctuat omnis
Area bellorum: vasti velut aequoris undae
Si quando inter se recluso carcere saeva
Bella cient animosi Euri, vertuntque profundum
Ionio in magno, aut undisono Atlanteo,
Alternos volvunt procurva ad littora fluctus.
Ar medias acies inter crudescit Amazon
Candida, plena animis, multisque in millibus ardet.

Valor and Fortune come together into one.
These now as victors drive the routed ranks
over the whole level, and with the reins reversed
now these same are borne back, and they vary their turns, and the whole
arena of wars fluctuates: just as the waves of the vast sea
whenever, the barrier unbarred, the spirited East Winds
stir savage wars among themselves, and turn the deep
in the great Ionian, or in the wave-sounding Atlantic,
they roll alternating billows to the curved shores.
And amid the battle-lines the Amazon grows fierce,
radiant, full of spirit, and among many thousands she burns.

Namque sagittiferum incursans, rediensque Elephantem
Nigrantes sternit. Dextra, laevaque per alas
Fulminat, atque manu spargens hastilia saevit.
Bellanti dant tela locum, retroque residunt
Hinc atque hinc inimicae acies: per tela, per hostes
Illa ruit pulchram in mortem, simul ultima tentat
Castra fugae fidens, animosque in bella viriles
Saeva gerit: penetrat cuneos, aperitque viam vi.
Tandem fusca cohors, nigrantisque arbiter alae
Ipse etiam arma suae trepidus, viresque, animosque
Virginis implorat.

For indeed, charging and wheeling back upon the arrow-bearing Elephant,
she lays low the swart ones. On right and on left through the wings
she lightnings, and, scattering spear-shafts with her hand, she rages.
To the fighter the missiles give place, and the hostile battle-lines
on this side and that fall back to the rear: through weapons, through foes
she rushes into a beautiful death, and at the same time tries the last
camp of flight, trusting in it, and she bears savage, manly spirits
for wars: she penetrates the wedges, and opens a way by force.
At length the dusky cohort, and the commander of the black wing,
he too in trepidation, implores the arms, the strength, and the courage
of the maiden.

Nulla est mora, fervida Amazon
Emicat, atque ardens, paribus se sistit in armis.
Quem primum hasta, aut quem postremum bellica virgo
Demetis, aut quot humi candentia corpora linquis ?
Semianimes volvuntur equi niveique, nigrique,
Et peditum cunei, dilectaque pectora Marti
Aligera juvenes ineuntes bella sagitta.
Quis cladem fando illius, quis funera pugnae,
Prostratrosque duces speret se aequare canendo?

There is no delay; the fervid Amazon
leaps forth, and ardent, she takes her stand in equal arms.
Whom first with the spear, or whom last, warlike maiden,
do you mow down, or how many gleaming bodies do you leave on the ground?
Half-alive the horses roll, both snowy-white and black,
and the wedges of footmen, and youths entering wars—breasts beloved to Mars—
the winged arrow assails.
Who could, by speaking, tell her carnage, who could hope by singing
to equal the funerals of the fight and the leaders laid low?

Sternitur omne solum buxo, atque miserrima caedes
Exoritur. Confusa inter sese agmina caedunt,
Implicitaeque ruunt albae, nigraeque phalanges.
Sternuntur pedites, et corpora quadrupedantum.

All the ground is strewn with boxwood, and a most wretched slaughter arises.
The battle-lines, confused among themselves, cut one another down,
and, entangled, the white and the black phalanxes collapse.
The foot-soldiers are laid low, and the bodies of the quadrupeds.

Nam versae inter se jactantes mutua tela
Foemineis ambae nituntur Amazones armis,
Usque adeo certae non cedere, donec in auras
Aut haec, aut illa effundat cum sanguine multo
Saevam animam, sola linquentes praelia morte.
Interea amborum populorum rector uterque
Captivos hostes, et victa cadavera bello
Carcere servabant castris vicina, caventes
Ne capti semel, aut obita jam morte jacentes
In vitam revocati iterum certamina inirent.
At lateri innixus Phoebeo Threicius Mars
Junctus amicitia puero Arcadi, si quid amico
Fata sinant prodesse, animum per cuncta volutat,
Observatque omnes casus: tum corpora bina
Capta, pharetratum juvenem, peditemque nigrantes
Coetibus e functis jam vita, atque aethere cassis
Surripit, et castris rursum clam immitit apertis.

For, turned against each other, hurling mutual missiles,
both Amazons strive with feminine arms,
so resolved not to yield, until into the breezes
either this one or that one pour out, with much blood,
the savage spirit, leaving the battles only by death.
Meanwhile each ruler of both peoples
kept the captive enemies, and the cadavers conquered in war,
in prison near the camps, taking care
lest, once captured, or lying already with death undergone,
recalled to life they might again enter the contests.
But the Thracian Mars, leaning upon the Phoebean side,
joined by friendship to the Arcadian boy, if the Fates allow
to benefit a friend in any way, turns his mind through all things,
and observes all contingencies: then two bodies,
captured—the quiver-borne youth and the foot-soldier, darkened—
from companies now done with life and bereft of aether
he snatches away, and again stealthily sends into the opened camps.

Ergo iterum gemini captivi praelia inibant,
Miscebantque manus animosi, atque arma ferebant.
Haud secus (ut perhibent) cum Colchis nacta cadaver
Aut virgo Massilla recens, cantuque triformem
Saepe ciens Hecaten, ac magni numina Ditis,
Falsam animam insinuat membris, aurasque loquaces,
Continuo erigitur corpus, loquiturque, videtque,
Et vivos inter fruitur coelestibus auris.
Non tulit indignum facinus Junonia proles
Mulciber (ille dolum solus depraendit) et ore
Inclamat, Phoebumque monet.

Therefore again the twin captives were entering the battles,
and, high‑spirited, they were joining hands and bearing arms.
Not otherwise (as they relate), when a Colchian, having gotten a fresh corpse,
or the Massilian maiden, and by song often summoning three‑formed
Hecate and the numina of great Dis,
she insinuates a false soul into the limbs, and loquacious airs;
straightway the body is raised, and it speaks and sees,
and among the living enjoys the celestial airs.
The Junonian offspring, Mulciber, did not endure the shameful deed
(he alone detected the trick), and with his mouth
he cries out, and warns Phoebus.

Thrax palluit heros
Depraensus. Phoebo exarsit dolor ossibus ingens.
Tum Marti pater omnipotens iratus iniqua
Praesidia abduci, atque indebita corpora bello
Protinus e castris jubet, atque retexere falsos
Hinc atque inde ictus, et cuncta in pristina reddit.

The Thracian hero grew pale
Detected. In Phoebus a mighty pain flared to his very bones.
Then the omnipotent Father, angered at the unjust
supports for Mars, orders the bodies undue to war
forthwith to be led out from the camp, and to unweave the false
blows on this side and that, and he restores all things to their pristine state.

Jamque duces furiis ambo majoribus instant,
Reginasque ambas conversa per agmina mittunt.
Caede madent illae, toto aequore fata serentes.
Considunt tandem observae, regesque tuentur,
Quaeque suum.

And now both leaders press on with greater furies,
and they send both queens through the turned-about ranks.
They are drenched with slaughter, sowing dooms over the whole plain.
At last they sit down as sentinels, and watch the kings,
and each her own.

Ecce autem bellatrix agminis albi
A tergo ferro invasit, stravitque nigrantem
Ignaram. Verum ipsa etiam cadit icta sagitta
Ah misera, et spoliis haud longum exultat opimis.
Convertere oculos ambae hinc atque inde cohortes,
Atque acies lacrymis, et foemineo ululatu
Ambas incubuisse putes, dum funera ducunt.

Behold, however, the warrioress of the white battle-line
from the rear assailed with steel, and laid low the black one
unaware. But she herself too falls, struck by an arrow—
ah, wretched—and she exults not long in opulent spoils.
Both cohorts turned their eyes, on this side and that,
and you would think the battle-lines, with tears and with feminine ululation,
had brooded over both, while they conduct the funerals.

Tum reges moestos ipsa ad praetoria densi
Agglomerant sese circum: timor omnibus idem
Incumbit: par tempestas, par hausit utrosque
Diluvium populos, et sunt sua funera cuique.
Haud prorsus tamen ambobus defecerat omne
Robur. Opes restant, et adhuc intacta juventus,
Tres pedites tibi, Phoebe, sagittifer alter, et ingens
Bellua turrito dorso.

Then, dense, they themselves mass around the sad kings at the praetoria;
the same fear weighs upon all: an equal tempest, an equal deluge has engulfed both
peoples, and each has his own funerals.
Not altogether, however, had all
strength failed both. Resources remain, and a youth as yet intact,
three foot-soldiers for you, Phoebus, another an arrow-bearer, and a huge
beast with a turreted back.

Totidemque tibi, Arcas,
Excepto Elephante, alta qui nuper in aula
Pace fruens cecidit positis inglorius armis,
Eminus aligera percussus arundine pectus.
Sed dexter tibi restat eques imperditus. Hausit
Caetera bellantum Mars impius agmina, bellique
Alea, florentes et desolaverat aulas.

And the same number for you, Arcas,
except for the Elephant, who recently in the lofty hall,
enjoying peace, fell inglorious with arms laid aside,
his breast struck from afar by a winged reed.
But a deft horseman remains to you, unscathed. The impious Mars
and the hazard of war have drained the rest of the warriors’ ranks, and had desolated
the flourishing halls.

At Cyllenaeo juveni spes occidit omnis.
Aestuat amissae gentis memor, et suspirat
Heroas magnos tot fato corpora functa.
Non tamen excedit pugna.

But for the Cyllenian youth all hope died.
He seethes, mindful of his lost people, and he sighs
for the great heroes, so many bodies that have met their fate.
Yet he does not withdraw from the fight.

Fracta agmina bello
Relliquias tenues immitis Apollinis astu
Cautior in pugnam mittit, post funera tanta
Si qua fata sinant gentis sarcire ruinas.
It nigrum campis agmen. Stat ubique morari,
Fortunamque omnem tentare, aditusque nocendi.

Shattered ranks in war
the slender remnants, by the craft of pitiless Apollo,
he more cautiously sends into battle, after such great funerals,
if in any way the Fates might allow him to repair the ruins of the people.
The dark column goes across the fields. It resolves everywhere to delay,
and to try every fortune, and the avenues of harming.

Exultat contra non aequo praelia motu
Cynthius invadens. Facies indigna cohortum,
Heu facies miseranda ducum ! Raro agmine aperta
Castra patent laete, viduatae et civibus aulae.
Moerebant vacuis thalamis regnator uterque
Jamdudum exosi sine conjuge taedia lecti.

Against them the battles exult with unequal motion, as the Cynthian invades. An aspect unworthy of the cohorts, alas, an aspect pitiable of the leaders ! With sparse column the opened camps stand wide open, and the halls are widowed of citizens.
Each ruler was mourning in empty bridal chambers, long since having loathed the tedium of a bed without a consort.

Primus amor maneat quamvis immotus utrisque,
Sors tamen ad nova conjugia, atque novos hymenaeos
Flectit iniqua. Igitur primum rex agminis albi
Reginae comites olim, fidasque ministras
Regali invitat thalamo, quae funera moestae
Post fera bellatricis herae tela irrita bello
Jactabant acies inter, cuneosque nigrantes
Oppetere amissae dominae pro caede paratae.
Sed prius explorare ausus sedet, atque viriles
Cunctarum spectare animos, ut digna cubile
Intret.

Let the first love abide, although unmoved in both,
yet iniquitous Fortune bends toward new conjugal unions and new hymenaeals.
Therefore first the king of the white host
invites to the regal bedchamber the queen’s former companions and faithful handmaids,
who, after the obsequies of their mourned warlike mistress,
their fierce weapons having proved ineffectual in war,
were hurling amid the battle-lines and the blackening wedges,
prepared to meet death in vengeance for the slaughter of their lost lady.
Sed first, daring to explore, he sits, and to inspect the virile
spirits of them all, that one worthy of the couch
may enter.

In hostiles sedes, atque ultima castra
Hortaturque, jubetque, supremam apprendere metam.
Nulli fas etenim regis sperare cubile
(Pacta vetant) nisi quae per tela invecta, per hostes
Transactis spatiis cunctis impune suprema
Attigerit prius adversi penetralia regis.
Arrexere animos famulae, pariterque per hostes
Limitibus properant rectis.

Into hostile seats, and to the furthest camps,
he both encourages and orders them to seize the supreme goal.
For it is permitted to none to hope for the king’s couch
(the pacts forbid), unless she who, borne in through weapons, through enemies,
with all courses traversed, with impunity, shall first have reached
the inner sanctum of the adversary king.
The handmaids raised their spirits, and side by side through the foes
they hasten along straight tracks.

Tamen ocyor anteit
Tertia, quam dextro ducebat semita cornu
Exultatque, agitatque, animo connubia regis.
Nam comites spe sublapsa cessere volentes.
Illa volat coeptis immanibus.

Nevertheless, swifter goes before
the Third, whom a path was guiding by the right-hand bend,
and she exults and agitates, in mind, the king’s connubial rites.
For the companions, their hope having slipped away, yielded willingly.
She flies on in her immense undertakings.

Addidit alas
Gloria praepetibus plantis, et plurima merces.
Nulla obstat mora. Nec facinus prohibere tyranno
Cura nigro est, novaque ipse etiam connubia tentat,
Et vacuis thalamis alias inducere nuptas.

Glory added wings to her fleet soles, and a very great reward.
No delay stands in the way. Nor has the tyrant any dark care to prohibit the deed,
and he himself even attempts new connubial unions,
and to lead other brides into the empty bridal chambers.

Ergo iter alternae accelerant, famulamque sinistram
Quarto limine agit, saltu sed tardior uno
Parrhasius juvenis. Jamque imperterrita virgo
Candida, facta potens voti, penetraverat omnes
Sedes, atque alacris meta consederat alta.
Tum rector jubet afferri sellamque, tiaramque
Extinctae ornatus, necnon fulgentia sceptra,
Dignaturque toro meritam, optatisque hymenaeis.

Therefore they quicken the course of the alternate, and he drives the left-hand handmaid
to the fourth threshold, but slower by one leap is the Parrhasian youth.
And now the undaunted maiden,
bright, made powerful by her vow, had penetrated all
stations, and, lively, had taken her seat at the high goal-post.
Then the ruler orders to be brought both the seat and the tiara,
the ornaments of the deceased, and likewise the gleaming scepters,
and he deigns her worthy of the couch, and of the longed-for hymeneals.

Gaudet cana cohors, insultatque eminus atrae.
Haud lacrymas cohibet Maia satus, aethera voce
Incessens, pictosque a pectore rupit amictus.
Nigranti famulae tantum gradus unus ad ipsam
Restabat metam ah miserae, sed limite recto
Turritus fera fata Elephas impune minatur
Insurgens, si supremam contingere sedem
Audeat, et toto castra obsidet ultima tractu,
Et pavidam observans extremis sedibus arcet.

The hoary cohort rejoices, and from afar insults the black.
The son of Maia does not restrain tears, addressing the aether with his voice,
and he tore the painted mantles from his breast.
For the black handmaid only one step to the goal itself
remained—ah, wretched one—but on the straight boundary
the turreted Elephant, rising, threatens savage fates with impunity,
if she should dare to touch the supreme seat,
and with his whole reach he besieges the farthest camp,
and, watching the trembling one, keeps her off from the farthest seats.

Interea nova regali dignata virago
Connubio exultans, toto dat funera campo.
Illam tollit honos novus, et fortuna tumentem.
Fulminis in morem ruit, atque nigrantia saevit
Castra per, et sedes, ac sidera territat armis.

Meanwhile the new virago, deemed worthy of regal marriage,
exulting in connubial union, deals funerals over the whole field.
A new honor lifts her, and, swelling with fortune,
she rushes in the manner of lightning, and rages through the blackening
camps, and with her arms she terrifies homes and even the stars.

Horrescunt faciem invisam nigra agmina crudae
Virginis, atque imae exoptant telluris hiatus.
Diffugiunt trepidi vasto irrumpente fragore
Hoste, metuque omnes acti glomerantur in unum
Aulai in medio juxta latera ardua regis.
Haud secus alta boves sparsae per pascua quondam,
Ut sensere lupum venientem, protinus omnes
Conveniunt trepidae, et fortem facto agmine taurum
Ductorem armenti implorant, ipsique propinquant
Certatim inter se trudentes cornua rauco
Murmure: mugitu longe nemora alta resultant.

The black battalions shudder at the detested face of the cruel Virgin, and they long for the chasms of the deep earth.
They scatter, trembling, as the Host bursts in with a vast crash, and all, driven by fear, are massed into one in the middle of the hall beside the king’s lofty sides.
Not otherwise do cattle once, scattered through high pastures, as soon as they perceive a wolf coming, straightway all come together in fright, and, a battle-line having been formed, implore the brave bull, leader of the herd; and they themselves draw near, vying as they shove their horns against one another with hoarse murmur: the high groves resound far with the bellowing.

At regina furens trepidos toto agmine victrix
Impingens in terga, ipsique ante omnia regi
Fata parans, pugnas alta ad praetoria miscet.
Nunc ruit huc, nunc huc, tunc et, nisi laeva fuisset
Mens illi, poterat candentem invadere sedem
Limite in obliquum quarto, et concludere fauces.
Ultimus ille labor regi, gentique fuisset
Nigranti, et fatis Arcas lugeret iniquis.

But the queen, raging, a victress, driving into the backs of the panic‑stricken with her whole column,
and before all for the king himself preparing his fates, mingles the battles up at the lofty praetoria.
Now she rushes here, now there; then too, and, unless her mind had been left‑handed,
she could have stormed the glowing seat by a fourth, oblique limit, and closed the throats (passes).
That would have been the final labor for the king and for the swart nation, and the Arcadian would mourn under iniquitous fates.

Nempe erat hinc lethi facilis via in ilia regis,
Nec poterat quisquam se tantae opponere cladi.
Sensit Atlantiades tacitus, dubioque tremebant
Corda metu: accelerare hostem jubet improbus, ictum
Ne videat, verbisque rapit per inania mentem,
Castigatque moras: Adeon' juvat usque morari,
Nec pudor est ? quae tanta animis ignavia ? sic nos
Increpitas semper cunctantes impiger ipse ?
His actus, peditem imprudens dum captat Apollo
Praeteriit fortunam: alacer vocem extulit astris
Laetitia exiliens Cyllenius. Inde periclo
Regem ipsum eripiens opponit Amazonis armis
Haud invitum equitem, qui saevos arceat ictus.

Indeed, from here there was an easy road of death into the king’s flanks,
nor could anyone set himself against so great a disaster.
Atlantiades sensed it silently, and their hearts were trembling
with doubtful fear: relentless, he bids the enemy to accelerate, lest he see
the stroke, and with words he snatches the mind through empty things,
and chastises delays: Does it really please you to linger forever,
and is there no shame? what such great sloth in your spirits? do you thus
reproach us as always delaying, you yourself so energetic?
Driven by these, while Apollo, unwitting, tries to seize a foot-soldier,
he passed by Fortune: the Cyllenian, leaping for joy,
eager, lifted his voice to the stars. Then, snatching the king himself
from danger, he sets in opposition to the Amazon’s arms
a not-unwilling horseman, to ward off the savage blows.

Tum secum meditans candenti lethum Elephanti,
Qui meta arcebat famulam, ne regis iniret
Concessos thalamos, curvato perculit arcu.
Concidit, atque ictu tellurem bellua vasto
Pulsavit moriens, dum regi intentat Apollo
Nequicquam exitium. Tum metam impune ministra
Nigra tenet (nec Phoebus obest) tam regia conjux.

Then, pondering to himself, he dealt death to the gleaming Elephant,
who at the goal was keeping off the handmaid, lest she enter
the king’s conceded bedchambers, striking with a curved bow.
It fell, and with a vast stroke the beast, as it died,
smote the ground, while Apollo aimed ruin at the king
in vain. Then the black handmaid holds the goal with impunity
(nor does Phoebus hinder), so royal a consort.

Jamque alacres paribus certamina viribus ambo
Rursum ineunt, nuptasque ferunt in bella secundas.
Tum, quanquam ambiguae spes sint, incertaque belli
Alea adhuc, tamen, ac si palmae certus, et omne
Discrimen positus sit supra, gaudia ficto
Ore puer Maiae simulat, verbisque superbit
Improbus insultans, astus genus, et sua creber
Vocibus extollens, albae premit arma cohortis.
Quem sic depraensa juvenis Latonius arte
Increpitat: nondum extremam dubio ultima bello
Imposuit fortuna manum, et jam voce superbis.

And now, eager, both enter upon the contests again with equal forces,
and they bring “second nuptials” into the wars. Then, although hopes are double-minded, and the die of war
uncertain as yet, nevertheless, as if the palm were sure, and every
hazard were set above, the boy of Maia with a feigned
face simulates joys, and in words he is over-proud,
shamelessly insulting, a kind of stratagem, and, frequent in his words,
exalting his own cunning, he presses the arms of the white cohort.
Whom thus, his trick detected, the Latonian youth
rebukes: Not yet has Fortune laid the final hand on the doubtful war,
and already you are proud in your voice.

Proinde mihi insulta, et tumidis reple omnia verbis,
Certa tuum annuerit tibi cum victoria Martem.
Sed jam nulla mora est. Tua nunc nunc irrita saxo
Dicta manu.

Therefore insult me, and replete everything with tumid words,
when sure victory shall have nodded to you—your Mars.
But now there is no delay. Now, now with a stone I shall make void
your words by my hand.

Haec fatus reginam hortatur in hostes.
Continuo exoritur magnum certamen, et ingens
Hinc atque hinc rabies, dum fixum vincere utrisque.
Audentes in tela ruunt.

Having spoken thus, he exhorts the queen against the enemies.
Immediately a great contest arises, and immense
On this side and that rage, while to conquer is a fixed resolve for both.
The daring rush into the missiles.

Stat multus ubique
Terror, ubique pavor, mortisque simillima imago.
Nituntur cuncti adversi, seseque viro vir
Obtulit. Invigilant castris avertere pestem
Quisque suis, hostemque fugant, hostiliaque ipsi
Castra petunt, variantque vices, fortunaque ludit
Spe cupidos, et corda morae impatientia torquet.

Much stands everywhere
Terror, everywhere dread, and the very image of death.
They strive all on opposing sides, and man to man
offered himself. They keep watch to avert the plague from the camps,
each for his own; and they put the enemy to flight, and they themselves seek the hostile
camps; they vary the turns, and Fortune plays with those eager in hope,
and impatience of delay torments their hearts.

Funera spargebat fuscae regina cohortis
Per medias animosa acies. Non aemula contra
Opposuit sese virgo, sed calle per hostes
Secreto interea regis tendebat ad alta
Limina. Dein subito captis custodibus arcis
Irruit, atque aditus irrumpens obsidet aulam,
Intentatque necem regi.

She was strewing funerals, the queen of the dusky cohort,
through the midst of the battle-lines, high-spirited. Not as a rival
did the maiden set herself in opposition, but by a secret path
through the foes she meanwhile was making for the king’s lofty
thresholds. Then suddenly, the guards of the citadel having been seized,
she burst in, and, breaking through the approaches, she invests the hall,
and she threatens death to the king.

Tum nigra virago,
Postquam altis vidit canam in penetralibus hostem,
Caede madens strages cito linquit, et imperfecta
Funera, et acta pedem retro exanimata repressit,
Nec timuit mediam se certae opponere morti;
Et patriae, et trepido properans succurrere regi.
Hic aliud maius Phoebo, graviusque dolendum
Objicitur. Nam cornipedem Cyllenius atrum
Huc illuc agitans campo insultabat aperto.

Then the black virago,
after she saw the hoary enemy in the lofty inner chambers,
dripping with slaughter she quickly leaves the carnage, and the unfinished
funerals, and, driven back, breathless, she checked her step in retreat,
nor did she fear to set herself in the midst against certain death;
and, hastening to succor both her fatherland and the trembling king.
Here another thing, greater for Phoebus and more grievous to be lamented,
is brought up. For the Cyllenian, driving his black hoof-footed steed,
was bounding here and there across the open field.

Ardet equus, saltuque furit. Nec destitit ausis
Donec reginae pariter, regique minatus
Optatam tenuit sedem, exitioque futurus
Aut huic aut illi nigrantibus obstitit armis.
Ut vidit, tristi turbatus pectus Apollo
Ingemuit, largusque genis non defuit humor.

The horse blazes, and rages in leaping. Nor did he desist from his ventures
until, threatening the queen and the king alike, he held the desired position,
and, to be the ruin of one or the other, stood opposed with black arms.
As he saw it, Apollo, his breast troubled with sadness,
groaned, and a copious moisture did not fail his cheeks.

Et jam jam labi, atque retro sublapsa referri
Spes omnis, fluxae vires, aversa deum mens.
Arcas successu exultans, ac munere divum
Laetus, ovansque animum, vocemque ad sidera tollit,
Et tandem rediit vigor in praecordia victo.
Protinus inclusam feriens sub Tartara mittit
Reginam, et spoliis potitur non segnis opimis.

And now, now all hope to slip, and, slid back, to be carried retro backward— the strength in flux, the gods’ mind averted.
Arcas, exulting in success and glad by the gift of the gods, and triumphing, lifts mind and voice to the stars,
and at last vigor returned into the inmost heart of the vanquished.
Straightway, smiting the Queen, penned in, he sends her down beneath Tartarus,
and, no sluggard, he gains rich spoils.

Tantum olli bellator equus cadit ilia fossus
Ultoris ferro regis. Nondum tamen expes
Phoebus abit, sed pugnat adhuc, atque agminis albi
Relliquiae pedites duo, et arcu insignis eburno
Martis amor juvenis nequicquam bella lacessunt.
Audentes facit amissae spes lapsa salutis,
Succurruntque duci labenti in funera: sed non
Talibus auxiliis, nec defensoribus istis
Tempus eget.

Only for him the warrior horse falls, its flanks pierced
by the avenging king’s steel. Not yet, however, hopeless
does Phoebus depart, but he still fights; and two foot-soldiers,
the relics of the white column, and the youth distinguished by an ivory bow,
the darling of Mars, provoke battle in vain.
The collapsed hope of lost safety makes them daring,
and they run to the leader slipping into death: but not
with such auxiliaries, nor with those defenders,
does the hour have need.

Toto Maia satus aequore saevit.
Instat vi multa nigra virgo, septaque regis
Circuit, excidium intentans, hac perfurit, atque hac,
Nec requievit enim, donec certamine iniquo
Relliquias gentis candentis, et ultima bello
Auxilia absumpsit. Medio rex aequore inermis
Constitit amissis sociis, velut aethere in alto
Expulit ardentes flammas ubi lutea bigis
Luciferis Aurora, tuus pulcherrimus ignis
Lucet adhuc, Venus, et coelo mox ultimus exit.

Across the whole level plain the son of Maia rages.
The black maiden presses on with much force, and circles the king’s
entrenchments, threatening destruction, raving this way and that,
nor indeed did she rest, until in an unequal contest
she consumed the remnants of the shining nation, and the last
supports in war. In the middle of the plain the king, unarmed,
stood with comrades lost, as, in the high aether,
when saffron Aurora with her light-bringing two-horse chariot
has driven out the burning flames, your most beautiful fire
still shines, Venus, and soon goes forth last from the sky.

Nulla salus illi superat, spes nulla salutis,
Non tamen excedit victus, sed claudere sese
Hostiles inter cuneos impune per enses
Actus avet, donec nusquam spatia illa supersint
Effugiis. Nam si nemo illi fata minetur,
Nec superet sedes, quam impune capessere possit,
Nil tantorum operum impensis foret omnibus actum,
Sed labor effusus frustra, viresque fuissent,
Nec titulos quisquam, aut victoris nomen haberet.
Ergo per vacuas sedes, desertaque castra
Nunc huc, rursum illuc incertos implicat orbes
Diffugiens.

No safety remains to him, no hope of salvation,
yet, though conquered, he does not withdraw, but to shut himself in
amid hostile wedges, with impunity through the swords,
driven, he longs, until nowhere do those spaces remain
for escapes. For if no one were to menace him with fates,
nor were there a seat left which he could with impunity seize,
nothing, by the expenditures of such great works, would have been accomplished,
but the labor would have been poured out in vain, and the forces too,
nor would anyone have titles or the name of victor.
Therefore through empty seats and deserted camps
now here, again there, he entwines uncertain circles
as he scatters in flight.

Niger insequitur rex aequore toto,
Atque fugae semper spatiumque, abitumque relinquit.
Post ubi supremo tendentem limite gressum
Vidit, reginam sedes servare secundas
Jussit, ab angustis ne se ille abducere posset
Ordinibus, tantumque fugae misero ultima restat
Linea. Tum sese contra niger aemulus infert
Dux gentis propriore gradu, sedes tamen una
Alterum ab alterius contactu summovet usque.

The black king pursues over the whole sea,
and always leaves for the flight both space and an exit.
After, when he saw him stretching his step to the utmost boundary,
he ordered the queen to keep the second positions,
lest he might be able to draw himself away from the narrow ranks,
and only the last line of flight remains to the wretch.
Then the black rival advances against him, the leader of the people, with a nearer pace,
yet a single square keeps the one ever removed from the other’s contact.

Ut vero contra exultantem victus, et expes
Constitit invitus, fortunam nacta virago
Extremam insiliit sedem, totoque minatur
Limite, nec misero restat locus amplius usquam.
Tandem illum surgens virgo crudelis in ensem
Immolat, et finem imposuit sors aspera pugnae
Ingenti Superum plausu, et clamore secundo.
Victor Atlantiades exultat littore toto
Improbus, et victo insultat, ridetque dolentem:
Quem Pater omnipotens ad se vocat, et dat habere
Felicem virgam, qua puras evocet umbras
Pallenti Styge, ut infectum scelus eluit ignis,
Quaque Erebo damnet sontes, et carcere caeco,
Detque, adimatque oculis somnos, et funere in ipso
Lumina lethaeo claudat perfusa sopore.

But when, over against his exultant foe, defeated and without hope,
he halted unwilling, the virago, having seized her last chance,
leapt upon the farthest seat, and threatens along the whole limit,
nor does any place anywhere remain any longer for the wretch.
At last the cruel maiden, rising, sacrifices him upon the sword,
and harsh Fortune set an end to the fight,
with huge applause of the gods above and a favorable clamor.
The victor Atlantiades exults along the whole shore,
shameless, and he insults the conquered, and laughs at the grieving one;
whom the Omnipotent Father calls to himself, and grants him to have
the lucky wand, with which he may call forth pure shades
from pallid Styx, so that fire may wash out stained crime,
and with which he may doom the guilty to Erebus and to a blind prison,
and may give and take away sleep from their eyes, and in death itself
may close their lights, steeped in Lethean slumber.

Mox vero gratum ludum mortalibus ipse
Ostendit deus, et morem certaminis hujus
Italiae primum docuit celebrare colonos.
Namque olim, ut perhibent, dilectam Scacchida, qua non
Inter Seriadas praestantior altera Nymphas,
Compressit ripa errantem, et nil tale putantem,
Dum pascit niveos herbosa ad flumina olores.
Tum bicolorem illi buxum dedit, atque pudoris
Amissi pretium vario ordine picturatam,
Argentique, aurique gravem tabulam addidit, usumque
Edocuit.

Soon indeed the god himself showed to mortals a pleasing game,
and taught the colonists of Italy first to celebrate the custom of this contest.
For once, as they relate, his beloved Scacchis—than whom no other was more preeminent among the Seriad Nymphs—
he overpowered on the bank as she wandered, suspecting nothing of the sort,
while she was feeding snowy swans by the grassy streams.
Then he gave to her two-colored boxwood, and, as the price of lost modesty,
adorned with a various order, and he added a board heavy with silver and gold, and taught her its use.

Nymphaeque etiam nunc servat honorem,
Et nomen ludus, celebrat quem maxima Roma,
Extremaeque hominum diversa ad littore gentes.
Omnia quae puero quondam mihi ferre solebant
Seriades, patrii canerem dum ad flumina Serii.

And even now it preserves the Nymph’s honor,
and her name—the game which greatest Rome celebrates,
and diverse nations of men to the farthest shore.
All the things which once, when I was a boy, the Seriads were wont to bring to me,
while I sang by the rivers of my native Seres.

FINIS.

THE END.