Virgilian Cento 1.539–1.664

But the companions' blood froze with sudden fear: their spirits fell, and all at once, weeping, they looked out at the sea (no voice for anyone), between hope and fear, doubtful whether to believe they lived or suffered the end, by a small margin from death, such things as sailors suffer on the deep sea. Behold, God sensed that the sea was being stirred with a great roar and the storm let loose, he who holds the supreme power. Equal to the light winds and swifter than the wings of lightning, he heads for the seas and runs down on the open water: nor is he far distant in course from the ship ahead. The stripped companions recognize their king from afar and his powerful right hand, and greet him with a great shout. After he touched the deep waves and came to the waters, this indeed was dreadful and marvelous to see: the waves subside, so that the oar had no struggle, and he puts the gathered clouds to flight and walks over the sea. And now, at the middle, he had not yet wet his lofty sides with the wave. And walking through the middle of the ship among the companions themselves, he himself goes to the helm as steersman, he himself the master. The mast trembled, the boat groaned under the weight, the sails fall, and God sat down on the high stern: and at last the glad men turn to the familiar sands.

Then also he sat on the back of a slow ass, shining in a cloud: around him many mothers and men, and boys, spread familiar garments beneath him and rejoice to touch the rope with their hand. And now they were drawing near the gates, and he enters the ancient temple, lofty on a hundred columns of ancient cedar, in the middle with a great throng accompanying. Awe-inspiring with its woods, this was their senate house and temple, these the sacred seats which they honored with wondrous honor. For while he surveys each thing beneath the huge temple, he shudders at the sudden sight, and sounded with a whip, and signals with his hand and at the same time thunders with great voice: "What face of crimes, what glittering bronze do I see, and Caesar's name? What madness changes your minds? These are our own seats; here at a fixed time the fathers were accustomed to sit at unbroken tables." They were stunned in spirit, and trembling ran through their bones to the marrow, and in fear they left their former tables. Meanwhile Vesper draws nearer as Olympus sinks. Then they restore their strength with food, and stretched out on the grass they load the tables with feasts and set out cups. After the first rest from feasting, and the tables removed, he himself among the first renews honors to the Father, looking up at heaven. Then silence fell on tongues.

He gives grain into their hands and sweet water from the springs, and filled the bowl with wine, and teaches the rites of the sacred things, and mingles prayers, and speaks thus: "Hear, O chiefs," he says, "and learn your hopes. None of this number will go away from me ungifted, and by the promises of the Father," he says, "your gifts remain sure for you, boys, and no one moves the palm from its order. And as soon as tomorrow's light returns to the earth, there will be one only against me and the destruction of my own, while he offers himself as the go-between for peace, from our own body. And now the day, unless I am mistaken, is here. Put away your cares. This labor will be mine, nor does my resolve deceive me: one head will be given for many." Having spoken thus, he fell silent and gave late rest through his limbs. Meanwhile Dawn, rising, left the Ocean. And now the priests far and wide fill the places with laments, with the people and the fathers, and a murmur runs through the ranks: "What race of men is this, or what country so barbarous permits this custom?" Gathered from everywhere, they demand punishment with blood and follow with great shouting the innocent one, and the base crowd rages in spirit. The fiery sun had climbed the middle circle of the sky when suddenly all, people and fathers, are summoned: they demand and order him to speak, of what blood he is born, or what he seeks, or what he himself brings. Grief and astonishment mixed press on the inert men as they look on the glorious deeds of the man (the mind of men knows not), and they vie in mocking the captive.

Then indeed they run together from everywhere with seized weapons. A shout rises to the sky, and all at once they seized the sacred image with bloody hands, and set up a huge oak with its branches cut off all round, and bind him with huge coils, and were stretching out his hands, the feet bound to each other (a sad ministry), and the rest of the youth follows them, all having dared a monstrous crime and achieved what they dared. But he, undaunted, says: "Why do you tie bonds? Has such confidence in your race held you? Later you will pay me with no like punishment for what you have committed." Saying such things he persisted and remained fixed. Meanwhile the sky begins to be stirred with a great roar, and black night took color from things, and the impious ages feared eternal night. The earth trembles, the wild beasts fled, and lowly dread laid mortal hearts low throughout the nations: then at once the earth gives a groan and the whole sky thunders with crashing. At once the thin shades, roused from the lowest seats of Erebus, went forth. The earth too and the waters of the sea gave signs: rivers stand still and the earth gapes open. Even the very houses and the inmost Tartarus of Death were stunned, and the shadowy caverns opened deep within. The sun too, both rising (all confess they know it), then covered his shining head with dark rust.

The companions scatter and are covered in dark night, and turn over many hard things in their sad hearts. What are they to do? His face and words cling fixed in their breast, nor does care give peaceful rest to their limbs. Then the elder brought forth such words from his breast, pondering much: "Where now is that God, our master? Whom do we follow? Where do you bid us go, where set our home? O grief and glory, glory of such great things! Now, now there is no delay: take us too with you into all things (we pray), and do not withdraw yourself from our sight." Amid these upheavals, in the middle of such words, the third light had moved the chill shadow from the sky: and now, retracing his step, he was coming to the upper air, when suddenly before their eyes the tomb of huge mass, where the lifeless body was laid (neither the bolts nor the guards themselves can withstand it), and they see rocks torn from rocks, with the tight joints of the sides loosened. A sound is made: the earth was shaken by a huge weight. Horror everywhere in the mind, and the very silences terrify. Behold, the first songs of the birds beneath the roof: he comes forth leaving the cave, and proud with spoils went exulting, and the earth trembles, roused by the beat of feet, and, bearing those wounds, he went in at the high doors. And here he finds with wonder that a great number of new companions has flowed together, and unexpected says to all at once: "Here I am before you, the one you seek.

Devotion has conquered the hard road, and living courage. Be wakeful at once, men; let all fear be gone. This is my return and long-awaited triumph, this my great faithfulness. O three and four times blessed, what rewards, what worthy ones, men, may I think can be paid for these praises, what gifts prepared? Receive this, then, in your minds: the same earth that first bore you from the stock of your parents will receive you in her glad bosom. Recall your courage and put away sad fear, and keep yourselves for prosperous things. For the rest, glad at things well done in order, pray for peace with your hand, praise peace as you sit, great-hearted ones: of peace the only inviolable pledge." And at the same time with these words he showed his face and mouth, his mouth and both hands, and his breast wasted by the iron: and they mingle hands with hands and rejoice as they gaze. Nor is it enough to have seen him once; it pleases them to linger always and walk beside him and join right hand to right hand. These things at last completed, he parts the breathing air: borne through the tender air into the open sky, he left mortal sight in the middle of his speech, and the royal palace of the starry heaven receives him on its throne, and holds his name for ever through the ages. From then his honor has been celebrated, and the glad descendants have kept the day through so many gliding years. Go, our glory, go, glory of things so great, and come propitious with favoring foot to us and your yearly rites, which it is wrong to put off. Celebrate this custom of rites favorably, companions; keep it yourself, O sweet husband, and if we deserve it by piety, may our grandchildren remain chaste in this religion.