Virgil
Quotes
New clamors and new clangors now arise,
The sound of trumpets mixed with fighting cries.
To these tears we grant life and pity him besides.
Let us yield to Phoebus and at his warning pursue a better course.
Or had not men been fated to be blind.
His looks, his words, they pierce her heart and cling—
no peace, no rest for her body, love will give her none.
The while he lifts to heaven hideous cries, like the bellowings of a wounded bull that has fled from the altar and shaken from its neck the ill-aimed axe.
His sole pleasure, his only solace in pain...
Everywhere, wrenching grief, everywhere, terror
and a thousand shapes of death.
Rage and wrath drive my soul headlong and I think how glorious it is to die in arms!
How changed he was from that Hector who returns after donning the spoils of Achilles.
Call it cunning or courage; who would ask in war?
O gods, take such a pest away from earth!
