Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/68

44 When lo! from Tenedos—I quail,

E'en now, at telling of the tale—

Two monstrous serpents stem the tide,

And shoreward through the stillness glide.

Amid the waves they rear their breasts,

And toss on high their sanguine crests:

The hind part coils along the deep,

And undulates with sinuous sweep.

The lashed spray echoes: now they reach

The inland belted by the beach,

And rolling bloodshot eyes of fire,

Dart their forked tongues, and hiss for ire.

We fly distraught: unswerving they

Toward Laocoon hold their way;

First round his two young sons they wreathe,

And grind their limbs with savage teeth:

Then, as with arms he comes to aid,

The wretched father they invade

And twine in giant folds: twice round

His stalwart waist their spires are wound,

Twice round his neck, while over all

Their heads and crests tower high and tall.

He strains his strength their knots to tear,

While gore and slime his fillets smear,

And to the unregardful skies

Sends up his agonizing cries:

A wounded bull such moaning makes,

When from his neck the axe he shakes,

Ill-aimed, and from the altar breaks.

The twin destroyers take their flight

To Pallas' temple on the height;

There by the Goddess' feet concealed

They lie, and nestle 'neath her shield.

At once through Ilium's hapless sons

A shock of feverous horror runs:

All in Laocoon's death-pangs read

The just requital of his deed,