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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + +19 BC +THE AENEID +by Virgil + + +BOOK I + +Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate, +And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate, +Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan shore. +Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore, +And in the doubtful war, before he won +The Latian realm, and built the destin'd town; +His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine, +And settled sure succession in his line, +From whence the race of Alban fathers come, +And the long glories of majestic Rome. + +O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate; +What goddess was provok'd, and whence her hate; +For what offense the Queen of Heav'n began +To persecute so brave, so just a man; +Involv'd his anxious life in endless cares, +Expos'd to wants, and hurried into wars! +Can heav'nly minds such high resentment show, +Or exercise their spite in human woe? + +Against the Tiber's mouth, but far away, +An ancient town was seated on the sea; +A Tyrian colony; the people made +Stout for the war, and studious of their trade: +Carthage the name; belov'd by Juno more +Than her own Argos, or the Samian shore. +Here stood her chariot; here, if Heav'n were kind, +The seat of awful empire she design'd. +Yet she had heard an ancient rumor fly, +(Long cited by the people of the sky,) +That times to come should see the Trojan race +Her Carthage ruin, and her tow'rs deface; +Nor thus confin'd, the yoke of sov'reign sway +Should on the necks of all the nations lay. +She ponder'd this, and fear'd it was in fate; +Nor could forget the war she wag'd of late +For conqu'ring Greece against the Trojan state. +Besides, long causes working in her mind, +And secret seeds of envy, lay behind; +Deep graven in her heart the doom remain'd +Of partial Paris, and her form disdain'd; +The grace bestow'd on ravish'd Ganymed, +Electra's glories, and her injur'd bed. +Each was a cause alone; and all combin'd +To kindle vengeance in her haughty mind. +For this, far distant from the Latian coast +She drove the remnants of the Trojan host; +And sev'n long years th' unhappy wand'ring train +Were toss'd by storms, and scatter'd thro' the main. +Such time, such toil, requir'd the Roman name, +Such length of labor for so vast a frame. + +Now scarce the Trojan fleet, with sails and oars, +Had left behind the fair Sicilian shores, +Ent'ring with cheerful shouts the wat'ry reign, +And plowing frothy furrows in the main; +When, lab'ring still with endless discontent, +The Queen of Heav'n did thus her fury vent: + +"Then am I vanquish'd? must I yield?" said she, +"And must the Trojans reign in Italy? +So Fate will have it, and Jove adds his force; +Nor can my pow'r divert their happy course. +Could angry Pallas, with revengeful spleen, +The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men? +She, for the fault of one offending foe, +The bolts of Jove himself presum'd to throw: +With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the ship, +And bare expos'd the bosom of the deep; +Then, as an eagle gripes the trembling game, +The wretch, yet hissing with her father's flame, +She strongly seiz'd, and with a burning wound +Transfix'd, and naked, on a rock she bound. +But I, who walk in awful state above, +The majesty of heav'n, the sister wife of Jove, +For length of years my fruitless force employ +Against the thin remains of ruin'd Troy! +What nations now to Juno's pow'r will pray, +Or off'rings on my slighted altars lay?" + +Thus rag'd the goddess; and, with fury fraught. +The restless regions of the storms she sought, +Where, in a spacious cave of living stone, +The tyrant Aeolus, from his airy throne, +With pow'r imperial curbs the struggling winds, +And sounding tempests in dark prisons binds. +This way and that th' impatient captives tend, +And, pressing for release, the mountains rend. +High in his hall th' undaunted monarch stands, +And shakes his scepter, and their rage commands; +Which did he not, their unresisted sway +Would sweep the world before them in their way; +Earth, air, and seas thro' empty space would roll, +And heav'n would fly before the driving soul. +In fear of this, the Father of the Gods +Confin'd their fury to those dark abodes, +And lock'd 'em safe within, oppress'd with mountain loads; +Impos'd a king, with arbitrary sway, +To loose their fetters, or their force allay. +To whom the suppliant queen her pray'rs address'd, +And thus the tenor of her suit express'd: + +"O Aeolus! for to thee the King of Heav'n +The pow'r of tempests and of winds has giv'n; +Thy force alone their fury can restrain, +And smooth the waves, or swell the troubled main- +A race of wand'ring slaves, abhorr'd by me, +With prosp'rous passage cut the Tuscan sea; +To fruitful Italy their course they steer, +And for their vanquish'd gods design new temples there. +Raise all thy winds; with night involve the skies; +Sink or disperse my fatal enemies. +Twice sev'n, the charming daughters of the main, +Around my person wait, and bear my train: +Succeed my wish, and second my design; +The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine, +And make thee father of a happy line." + +To this the god: "'T is yours, O queen, to will +The work which duty binds me to fulfil. +These airy kingdoms, and this wide command, +Are all the presents of your bounteous hand: +Yours is my sov'reign's grace; and, as your guest, +I sit with gods at their celestial feast; +Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue; +Dispose of empire, which I hold from you." + +He said, and hurl'd against the mountain side +His quiv'ring spear, and all the god applied. +The raging winds rush thro' the hollow wound, +And dance aloft in air, and skim along the ground; +Then, settling on the sea, the surges sweep, +Raise liquid mountains, and disclose the deep. +South, East, and West with mix'd confusion roar, +And roll the foaming billows to the shore. +The cables crack; the sailors' fearful cries +Ascend; and sable night involves the skies; +And heav'n itself is ravish'd from their eyes. +Loud peals of thunder from the poles ensue; +Then flashing fires the transient light renew; +The face of things a frightful image bears, +And present death in various forms appears. +Struck with unusual fright, the Trojan chief, +With lifted hands and eyes, invokes relief; +And, "Thrice and four times happy those," he cried, +"That under Ilian walls before their parents died! +Tydides, bravest of the Grecian train! +Why could not I by that strong arm be slain, +And lie by noble Hector on the plain, +Or great Sarpedon, in those bloody fields +Where Simois rolls the bodies and the shields +Of heroes, whose dismember'd hands yet bear +The dart aloft, and clench the pointed spear!" + +Thus while the pious prince his fate bewails, +Fierce Boreas drove against his flying sails, +And rent the sheets; the raging billows rise, +And mount the tossing vessels to the skies: +Nor can the shiv'ring oars sustain the blow; +The galley gives her side, and turns her prow; +While those astern, descending down the steep, +Thro' gaping waves behold the boiling deep. +Three ships were hurried by the southern blast, +And on the secret shelves with fury cast. +Those hidden rocks th' Ausonian sailors knew: +They call'd them Altars, when they rose in view, +And show'd their spacious backs above the flood. +Three more fierce Eurus, in his angry mood, +Dash'd on the shallows of the moving sand, +And in mid ocean left them moor'd aland. +Orontes' bark, that bore the Lycian crew, +(A horrid sight!) ev'n in the hero's view, +From stem to stern by waves was overborne: +The trembling pilot, from his rudder torn, +Was headlong hurl'd; thrice round the ship was toss'd, +Then bulg'd at once, and in the deep was lost; +And here and there above the waves were seen +Arms, pictures, precious goods, and floating men. +The stoutest vessel to the storm gave way, +And suck'd thro' loosen'd planks the rushing sea. +Ilioneus was her chief: Alethes old, +Achates faithful, Abas young and bold, +Endur'd not less; their ships, with gaping seams, +Admit the deluge of the briny streams. + +Meantime imperial Neptune heard the sound +Of raging billows breaking on the ground. +Displeas'd, and fearing for his wat'ry reign, +He rear'd his awful head above the main, +Serene in majesty; then roll'd his eyes +Around the space of earth, and seas, and skies. +He saw the Trojan fleet dispers'd, distress'd, +By stormy winds and wintry heav'n oppress'd. +Full well the god his sister's envy knew, +And what her aims and what her arts pursue. +He summon'd Eurus and the western blast, +And first an angry glance on both he cast; +Then thus rebuk'd: "Audacious winds! from whence +This bold attempt, this rebel insolence? +Is it for you to ravage seas and land, +Unauthoriz'd by my supreme command? +To raise such mountains on the troubled main? +Whom I- but first 't is fit the billows to restrain; +And then you shall be taught obedience to my reign. +Hence! to your lord my royal mandate bear- +The realms of ocean and the fields of air +Are mine, not his. By fatal lot to me +The liquid empire fell, and trident of the sea. +His pow'r to hollow caverns is confin'd: +There let him reign, the jailer of the wind, +With hoarse commands his breathing subjects call, +And boast and bluster in his empty hall." +He spoke; and, while he spoke, he smooth'd the sea, +Dispell'd the darkness, and restor'd the day. +Cymothoe, Triton, and the sea-green train +Of beauteous nymphs, the daughters of the main, +Clear from the rocks the vessels with their hands: +The god himself with ready trident stands, +And opes the deep, and spreads the moving sands; +Then heaves them off the shoals. Where'er he guides +His finny coursers and in triumph rides, +The waves unruffle and the sea subsides. +As, when in tumults rise th' ignoble crowd, +Mad are their motions, and their tongues are loud; +And stones and brands in rattling volleys fly, +And all the rustic arms that fury can supply: +If then some grave and pious man appear, +They hush their noise, and lend a list'ning ear; +He soothes with sober words their angry mood, +And quenches their innate desire of blood: +So, when the Father of the Flood appears, +And o'er the seas his sov'reign trident rears, +Their fury falls: he skims the liquid plains, +High on his chariot, and, with loosen'd reins, +Majestic moves along, and awful peace maintains. +The weary Trojans ply their shatter'd oars +To nearest land, and make the Libyan shores. + +Within a long recess there lies a bay: +An island shades it from the rolling sea, +And forms a port secure for ships to ride; +Broke by the jutting land, on either side, +In double streams the briny waters glide. +Betwixt two rows of rocks a sylvan scene +Appears above, and groves for ever green: +A grot is form'd beneath, with mossy seats, +To rest the Nereids, and exclude the heats. +Down thro' the crannies of the living walls +The crystal streams descend in murm'ring falls: +No haulsers need to bind the vessels here, +Nor bearded anchors; for no storms they fear. +Sev'n ships within this happy harbor meet, +The thin remainders of the scatter'd fleet. +The Trojans, worn with toils, and spent with woes, +Leap on the welcome land, and seek their wish'd repose. + +First, good Achates, with repeated strokes +Of clashing flints, their hidden fire provokes: +Short flame succeeds; a bed of wither'd leaves +The dying sparkles in their fall receives: +Caught into life, in fiery fumes they rise, +And, fed with stronger food, invade the skies. +The Trojans, dropping wet, or stand around +The cheerful blaze, or lie along the ground: +Some dry their corn, infected with the brine, +Then grind with marbles, and prepare to dine. +Aeneas climbs the mountain's airy brow, +And takes a prospect of the seas below, +If Capys thence, or Antheus he could spy, +Or see the streamers of Caicus fly. +No vessels were in view; but, on the plain, +Three beamy stags command a lordly train +Of branching heads: the more ignoble throng +Attend their stately steps, and slowly graze along. +He stood; and, while secure they fed below, +He took the quiver and the trusty bow +Achates us'd to bear: the leaders first +He laid along, and then the vulgar pierc'd; +Nor ceas'd his arrows, till the shady plain +Sev'n mighty bodies with their blood distain. +For the sev'n ships he made an equal share, +And to the port return'd, triumphant from the war. +The jars of gen'rous wine (Acestes' gift, +When his Trinacrian shores the navy left) +He set abroach, and for the feast prepar'd, +In equal portions with the ven'son shar'd. +Thus while he dealt it round, the pious chief +With cheerful words allay'd the common grief: +"Endure, and conquer! Jove will soon dispose +To future good our past and present woes. +With me, the rocks of Scylla you have tried; +Th' inhuman Cyclops and his den defied. +What greater ills hereafter can you bear? +Resume your courage and dismiss your care, +An hour will come, with pleasure to relate +Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate. +Thro' various hazards and events, we move +To Latium and the realms foredoom'd by Jove. +Call'd to the seat (the promise of the skies) +Where Trojan kingdoms once again may rise, +Endure the hardships of your present state; +Live, and reserve yourselves for better fate." + +These words he spoke, but spoke not from his heart; +His outward smiles conceal'd his inward smart. +The jolly crew, unmindful of the past, +The quarry share, their plenteous dinner haste. +Some strip the skin; some portion out the spoil; +The limbs, yet trembling, in the caldrons boil; +Some on the fire the reeking entrails broil. +Stretch'd on the grassy turf, at ease they dine, +Restore their strength with meat, and cheer their souls with +wine. +Their hunger thus appeas'd, their care attends +The doubtful fortune of their absent friends: +Alternate hopes and fears their minds possess, +Whether to deem 'em dead, or in distress. +Above the rest, Aeneas mourns the fate +Of brave Orontes, and th' uncertain state +Of Gyas, Lycus, and of Amycus. +The day, but not their sorrows, ended thus. + +When, from aloft, almighty Jove surveys +Earth, air, and shores, and navigable seas, +At length on Libyan realms he fix'd his eyes- +Whom, pond'ring thus on human miseries, +When Venus saw, she with a lowly look, +Not free from tears, her heav'nly sire bespoke: + +"O King of Gods and Men! whose awful hand +Disperses thunder on the seas and land, +Disposing all with absolute command; +How could my pious son thy pow'r incense? +Or what, alas! is vanish'd Troy's offense? +Our hope of Italy not only lost, +On various seas by various tempests toss'd, +But shut from ev'ry shore, and barr'd from ev'ry coast. +You promis'd once, a progeny divine +Of Romans, rising from the Trojan line, +In after times should hold the world in awe, +And to the land and ocean give the law. +How is your doom revers'd, which eas'd my care +When Troy was ruin'd in that cruel war? +Then fates to fates I could oppose; but now, +When Fortune still pursues her former blow, +What can I hope? What worse can still succeed? +What end of labors has your will decreed? +Antenor, from the midst of Grecian hosts, +Could pass secure, and pierce th' Illyrian coasts, +Where, rolling down the steep, Timavus raves +And thro' nine channels disembogues his waves. +At length he founded Padua's happy seat, +And gave his Trojans a secure retreat; +There fix'd their arms, and there renew'd their name, +And there in quiet rules, and crown'd with fame. +But we, descended from your sacred line, +Entitled to your heav'n and rites divine, +Are banish'd earth; and, for the wrath of one, +Remov'd from Latium and the promis'd throne. +Are these our scepters? these our due rewards? +And is it thus that Jove his plighted faith regards?" + +To whom the Father of th' immortal race, +Smiling with that serene indulgent face, +With which he drives the clouds and clears the skies, +First gave a holy kiss; then thus replies: + +"Daughter, dismiss thy fears; to thy desire +The fates of thine are fix'd, and stand entire. +Thou shalt behold thy wish'd Lavinian walls; +And, ripe for heav'n, when fate Aeneas calls, +Then shalt thou bear him up, sublime, to me: +No councils have revers'd my firm decree. +And, lest new fears disturb thy happy state, +Know, I have search'd the mystic rolls of Fate: +Thy son (nor is th' appointed season far) +In Italy shall wage successful war, +Shall tame fierce nations in the bloody field, +And sov'reign laws impose, and cities build, +Till, after ev'ry foe subdued, the sun +Thrice thro' the signs his annual race shall run: +This is his time prefix'd. Ascanius then, +Now call'd Iulus, shall begin his reign. +He thirty rolling years the crown shall wear, +Then from Lavinium shall the seat transfer, +And, with hard labor, Alba Longa build. +The throne with his succession shall be fill'd +Three hundred circuits more: then shall be seen +Ilia the fair, a priestess and a queen, +Who, full of Mars, in time, with kindly throes, +Shall at a birth two goodly boys disclose. +The royal babes a tawny wolf shall drain: +Then Romulus his grandsire's throne shall gain, +Of martial tow'rs the founder shall become, +The people Romans call, the city Rome. +To them no bounds of empire I assign, +Nor term of years to their immortal line. +Ev'n haughty Juno, who, with endless broils, +Earth, seas, and heav'n, and Jove himself turmoils; +At length aton'd, her friendly pow'r shall join, +To cherish and advance the Trojan line. +The subject world shall Rome's dominion own, +And, prostrate, shall adore the nation of the gown. +An age is ripening in revolving fate +When Troy shall overturn the Grecian state, +And sweet revenge her conqu'ring sons shall call, +To crush the people that conspir'd her fall. +Then Caesar from the Julian stock shall rise, +Whose empire ocean, and whose fame the skies +Alone shall bound; whom, fraught with eastern spoils, +Our heav'n, the just reward of human toils, +Securely shall repay with rites divine; +And incense shall ascend before his sacred shrine. +Then dire debate and impious war shall cease, +And the stern age be soften'd into peace: +Then banish'd Faith shall once again return, +And Vestal fires in hallow'd temples burn; +And Remus with Quirinus shall sustain +The righteous laws, and fraud and force restrain. +Janus himself before his fane shall wait, +And keep the dreadful issues of his gate, +With bolts and iron bars: within remains +Imprison'd Fury, bound in brazen chains; +High on a trophy rais'd, of useless arms, +He sits, and threats the world with vain alarms." + +He said, and sent Cyllenius with command +To free the ports, and ope the Punic land +To Trojan guests; lest, ignorant of fate, +The queen might force them from her town and state. +Down from the steep of heav'n Cyllenius flies, +And cleaves with all his wings the yielding skies. +Soon on the Libyan shore descends the god, +Performs his message, and displays his rod: +The surly murmurs of the people cease; +And, as the fates requir'd, they give the peace: +The queen herself suspends the rigid laws, +The Trojans pities, and protects their cause. + +Meantime, in shades of night Aeneas lies: +Care seiz'd his soul, and sleep forsook his eyes. +But, when the sun restor'd the cheerful day, +He rose, the coast and country to survey, +Anxious and eager to discover more. +It look'd a wild uncultivated shore; +But, whether humankind, or beasts alone +Possess'd the new-found region, was unknown. +Beneath a ledge of rocks his fleet he hides: +Tall trees surround the mountain's shady sides; +The bending brow above a safe retreat provides. +Arm'd with two pointed darts, he leaves his friends, +And true Achates on his steps attends. +Lo! in the deep recesses of the wood, +Before his eyes his goddess mother stood: +A huntress in her habit and her mien; +Her dress a maid, her air confess'd a queen. +Bare were her knees, and knots her garments bind; +Loose was her hair, and wanton'd in the wind; +Her hand sustain'd a bow; her quiver hung behind. +She seem'd a virgin of the Spartan blood: +With such array Harpalyce bestrode +Her Thracian courser and outstripp'd the rapid flood. +"Ho, strangers! have you lately seen," she said, +"One of my sisters, like myself array'd, +Who cross'd the lawn, or in the forest stray'd? +A painted quiver at her back she bore; +Varied with spots, a lynx's hide she wore; +And at full cry pursued the tusky boar." + +Thus Venus: thus her son replied again: +"None of your sisters have we heard or seen, +O virgin! or what other name you bear +Above that style- O more than mortal fair! +Your voice and mien celestial birth betray! +If, as you seem, the sister of the day, +Or one at least of chaste Diana's train, +Let not an humble suppliant sue in vain; +But tell a stranger, long in tempests toss'd, +What earth we tread, and who commands the coast? +Then on your name shall wretched mortals call, +And offer'd victims at your altars fall." +"I dare not," she replied, "assume the name +Of goddess, or celestial honors claim: +For Tyrian virgins bows and quivers bear, +And purple buskins o'er their ankles wear. +Know, gentle youth, in Libyan lands you are- +A people rude in peace, and rough in war. +The rising city, which from far you see, +Is Carthage, and a Tyrian colony. +Phoenician Dido rules the growing state, +Who fled from Tyre, to shun her brother's hate. +Great were her wrongs, her story full of fate; +Which I will sum in short. Sichaeus, known +For wealth, and brother to the Punic throne, +Possess'd fair Dido's bed; and either heart +At once was wounded with an equal dart. +Her father gave her, yet a spotless maid; +Pygmalion then the Tyrian scepter sway'd: +One who condemn'd divine and human laws. +Then strife ensued, and cursed gold the cause. +The monarch, blinded with desire of wealth, +With steel invades his brother's life by stealth; +Before the sacred altar made him bleed, +And long from her conceal'd the cruel deed. +Some tale, some new pretense, he daily coin'd, +To soothe his sister, and delude her mind. +At length, in dead of night, the ghost appears +Of her unhappy lord: the specter stares, +And, with erected eyes, his bloody bosom bares. +The cruel altars and his fate he tells, +And the dire secret of his house reveals, +Then warns the widow, with her household gods, +To seek a refuge in remote abodes. +Last, to support her in so long a way, +He shows her where his hidden treasure lay. +Admonish'd thus, and seiz'd with mortal fright, +The queen provides companions of her flight: +They meet, and all combine to leave the state, +Who hate the tyrant, or who fear his hate. +They seize a fleet, which ready rigg'd they find; +Nor is Pygmalion's treasure left behind. +The vessels, heavy laden, put to sea +With prosp'rous winds; a woman leads the way. +I know not, if by stress of weather driv'n, +Or was their fatal course dispos'd by Heav'n; +At last they landed, where from far your eyes +May view the turrets of new Carthage rise; +There bought a space of ground, which (Byrsa call'd, +From the bull's hide) they first inclos'd, and wall'd. +But whence are you? what country claims your birth? +What seek you, strangers, on our Libyan earth?" + +To whom, with sorrow streaming from his eyes, +And deeply sighing, thus her son replies: +"Could you with patience hear, or I relate, +O nymph, the tedious annals of our fate! +Thro' such a train of woes if I should run, +The day would sooner than the tale be done! +From ancient Troy, by force expell'd, we came- +If you by chance have heard the Trojan name. +On various seas by various tempests toss'd, +At length we landed on your Libyan coast. +The good Aeneas am I call'd- a name, +While Fortune favor'd, not unknown to fame. +My household gods, companions of my woes, +With pious care I rescued from our foes. +To fruitful Italy my course was bent; +And from the King of Heav'n is my descent. +With twice ten sail I cross'd the Phrygian sea; +Fate and my mother goddess led my way. +Scarce sev'n, the thin remainders of my fleet, +From storms preserv'd, within your harbor meet. +Myself distress'd, an exile, and unknown, +Debarr'd from Europe, and from Asia thrown, +In Libyan desarts wander thus alone." + +His tender parent could no longer bear; +But, interposing, sought to soothe his care. +"Whoe'er you are- not unbelov'd by Heav'n, +Since on our friendly shore your ships are driv'n- +Have courage: to the gods permit the rest, +And to the queen expose your just request. +Now take this earnest of success, for more: +Your scatter'd fleet is join'd upon the shore; +The winds are chang'd, your friends from danger free; +Or I renounce my skill in augury. +Twelve swans behold in beauteous order move, +And stoop with closing pinions from above; +Whom late the bird of Jove had driv'n along, +And thro' the clouds pursued the scatt'ring throng: +Now, all united in a goodly team, +They skim the ground, and seek the quiet stream. +As they, with joy returning, clap their wings, +And ride the circuit of the skies in rings; +Not otherwise your ships, and ev'ry friend, +Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend. +No more advice is needful; but pursue +The path before you, and the town in view." + +Thus having said, she turn'd, and made appear +Her neck refulgent, and dishevel'd hair, +Which, flowing from her shoulders, reach'd the ground. +And widely spread ambrosial scents around: +In length of train descends her sweeping gown; +And, by her graceful walk, the Queen of Love is known. +The prince pursued the parting deity +With words like these: "Ah! whither do you fly? +Unkind and cruel! to deceive your son +In borrow'd shapes, and his embrace to shun; +Never to bless my sight, but thus unknown; +And still to speak in accents not your own." +Against the goddess these complaints he made, +But took the path, and her commands obey'd. +They march, obscure; for Venus kindly shrouds +With mists their persons, and involves in clouds, +That, thus unseen, their passage none might stay, +Or force to tell the causes of their way. +This part perform'd, the goddess flies sublime +To visit Paphos and her native clime; +Where garlands, ever green and ever fair, +With vows are offer'd, and with solemn pray'r: +A hundred altars in her temple smoke; +A thousand bleeding hearts her pow'r invoke. + +They climb the next ascent, and, looking down, +Now at a nearer distance view the town. +The prince with wonder sees the stately tow'rs, +Which late were huts and shepherds' homely bow'rs, +The gates and streets; and hears, from ev'ry part, +The noise and busy concourse of the mart. +The toiling Tyrians on each other call +To ply their labor: some extend the wall; +Some build the citadel; the brawny throng +Or dig, or push unwieldly stones along. +Some for their dwellings choose a spot of ground, +Which, first design'd, with ditches they surround. +Some laws ordain; and some attend the choice +Of holy senates, and elect by voice. +Here some design a mole, while others there +Lay deep foundations for a theater; +From marble quarries mighty columns hew, +For ornaments of scenes, and future view. +Such is their toil, and such their busy pains, +As exercise the bees in flow'ry plains, +When winter past, and summer scarce begun, +Invites them forth to labor in the sun; +Some lead their youth abroad, while some condense +Their liquid store, and some in cells dispense; +Some at the gate stand ready to receive +The golden burthen, and their friends relieve; +All with united force, combine to drive +The lazy drones from the laborious hive: +With envy stung, they view each other's deeds; +The fragrant work with diligence proceeds. +"Thrice happy you, whose walls already rise!" +Aeneas said, and view'd, with lifted eyes, +Their lofty tow'rs; then, entiring at the gate, +Conceal'd in clouds (prodigious to relate) +He mix'd, unmark'd, among the busy throng, +Borne by the tide, and pass'd unseen along. + +Full in the center of the town there stood, +Thick set with trees, a venerable wood. +The Tyrians, landing near this holy ground, +And digging here, a prosp'rous omen found: +From under earth a courser's head they drew, +Their growth and future fortune to foreshew. +This fated sign their foundress Juno gave, +Of a soil fruitful, and a people brave. +Sidonian Dido here with solemn state +Did Juno's temple build, and consecrate, +Enrich'd with gifts, and with a golden shrine; +But more the goddess made the place divine. +On brazen steps the marble threshold rose, +And brazen plates the cedar beams inclose: +The rafters are with brazen cov'rings crown'd; +The lofty doors on brazen hinges sound. +What first Aeneas this place beheld, +Reviv'd his courage, and his fear expell'd. +For while, expecting there the queen, he rais'd +His wond'ring eyes, and round the temple gaz'd, +Admir'd the fortune of the rising town, +The striving artists, and their arts' renown; +He saw, in order painted on the wall, +Whatever did unhappy Troy befall: +The wars that fame around the world had blown, +All to the life, and ev'ry leader known. +There Agamemnon, Priam here, he spies, +And fierce Achilles, who both kings defies. +He stopp'd, and weeping said: "O friend! ev'n here +The monuments of Trojan woes appear! +Our known disasters fill ev'n foreign lands: +See there, where old unhappy Priam stands! +Ev'n the mute walls relate the warrior's fame, +And Trojan griefs the Tyrians' pity claim." +He said (his tears a ready passage find), +Devouring what he saw so well design'd, +And with an empty picture fed his mind: +For there he saw the fainting Grecians yield, +And here the trembling Trojans quit the field, +Pursued by fierce Achilles thro' the plain, +On his high chariot driving o'er the slain. +The tents of Rhesus next his grief renew, +By their white sails betray'd to nightly view; +And wakeful Diomede, whose cruel sword +The sentries slew, nor spar'd their slumb'ring lord, +Then took the fiery steeds, ere yet the food +Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanthian flood. +Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defied +Achilles, and unequal combat tried; +Then, where the boy disarm'd, with loosen'd reins, +Was by his horses hurried o'er the plains, +Hung by the neck and hair, and dragg'd around: +The hostile spear, yet sticking in his wound, +With tracks of blood inscrib'd the dusty ground. +Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress'd with woe, +To Pallas' fane in long procession go, +In hopes to reconcile their heav'nly foe. +They weep, they beat their breasts, they rend their hair, +And rich embroider'd vests for presents bear; +But the stern goddess stands unmov'd with pray'r. +Thrice round the Trojan walls Achilles drew +The corpse of Hector, whom in fight he slew. +Here Priam sues; and there, for sums of gold, +The lifeless body of his son is sold. +So sad an object, and so well express'd, +Drew sighs and groans from the griev'd hero's breast, +To see the figure of his lifeless friend, +And his old sire his helpless hand extend. +Himself he saw amidst the Grecian train, +Mix'd in the bloody battle on the plain; +And swarthy Memnon in his arms he knew, +His pompous ensigns, and his Indian crew. +Penthisilea there, with haughty grace, +Leads to the wars an Amazonian race: +In their right hands a pointed dart they wield; +The left, for ward, sustains the lunar shield. +Athwart her breast a golden belt she throws, +Amidst the press alone provokes a thousand foes, +And dares her maiden arms to manly force oppose. + +Thus while the Trojan prince employs his eyes, +Fix'd on the walls with wonder and surprise, +The beauteous Dido, with a num'rous train +And pomp of guards, ascends the sacred fane. +Such on Eurotas' banks, or Cynthus' height, +Diana seems; and so she charms the sight, +When in the dance the graceful goddess leads +The choir of nymphs, and overtops their heads: +Known by her quiver, and her lofty mien, +She walks majestic, and she looks their queen; +Latona sees her shine above the rest, +And feeds with secret joy her silent breast. +Such Dido was; with such becoming state, +Amidst the crowd, she walks serenely great. +Their labor to her future sway she speeds, +And passing with a gracious glance proceeds; +Then mounts the throne, high plac'd before the shrine: +In crowds around, the swarming people join. +She takes petitions, and dispenses laws, +Hears and determines ev'ry private cause; +Their tasks in equal portions she divides, +And, where unequal, there by lots decides. +Another way by chance Aeneas bends +His eyes, and unexpected sees his friends, +Antheus, Sergestus grave, Cloanthus strong, +And at their backs a mighty Trojan throng, +Whom late the tempest on the billows toss'd, +And widely scatter'd on another coast. +The prince, unseen, surpris'd with wonder stands, +And longs, with joyful haste, to join their hands; +But, doubtful of the wish'd event, he stays, +And from the hollow cloud his friends surveys, +Impatient till they told their present state, +And where they left their ships, and what their fate, +And why they came, and what was their request; +For these were sent, commission'd by the rest, +To sue for leave to land their sickly men, +And gain admission to the gracious queen. +Ent'ring, with cries they fill'd the holy fane; +Then thus, with lowly voice, Ilioneus began: + +"O queen! indulg'd by favor of the gods +To found an empire in these new abodes, +To build a town, with statutes to restrain +The wild inhabitants beneath thy reign, +We wretched Trojans, toss'd on ev'ry shore, +From sea to sea, thy clemency implore. +Forbid the fires our shipping to deface! +Receive th' unhappy fugitives to grace, +And spare the remnant of a pious race! +We come not with design of wasteful prey, +To drive the country, force the swains away: +Nor such our strength, nor such is our desire; +The vanquish'd dare not to such thoughts aspire. +A land there is, Hesperia nam'd of old; +The soil is fruitful, and the men are bold- +Th' Oenotrians held it once- by common fame +Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name. +To that sweet region was our voyage bent, +When winds and ev'ry warring element +Disturb'd our course, and, far from sight of land, +Cast our torn vessels on the moving sand: +The sea came on; the South, with mighty roar, +Dispers'd and dash'd the rest upon the rocky shore. +Those few you see escap'd the Storm, and fear, +Unless you interpose, a shipwreck here. +What men, what monsters, what inhuman race, +What laws, what barb'rous customs of the place, +Shut up a desart shore to drowning men, +And drive us to the cruel seas again? +If our hard fortune no compassion draws, +Nor hospitable rights, nor human laws, +The gods are just, and will revenge our cause. +Aeneas was our prince: a juster lord, +Or nobler warrior, never drew a sword; +Observant of the right, religious of his word. +If yet he lives, and draws this vital air, +Nor we, his friends, of safety shall despair; +Nor you, great queen, these offices repent, +Which he will equal, and perhaps augment. +We want not cities, nor Sicilian coasts, +Where King Acestes Trojan lineage boasts. +Permit our ships a shelter on your shores, +Refitted from your woods with planks and oars, +That, if our prince be safe, we may renew +Our destin'd course, and Italy pursue. +But if, O best of men, the Fates ordain +That thou art swallow'd in the Libyan main, +And if our young Iulus be no more, +Dismiss our navy from your friendly shore, +That we to good Acestes may return, +And with our friends our common losses mourn." +Thus spoke Ilioneus: the Trojan crew +With cries and clamors his request renew. + +The modest queen a while, with downcast eyes, +Ponder'd the speech; then briefly thus replies: +"Trojans, dismiss your fears; my cruel fate, +And doubts attending an unsettled state, +Force me to guard my coast from foreign foes. +Who has not heard the story of your woes, +The name and fortune of your native place, +The fame and valor of the Phrygian race? +We Tyrians are not so devoid of sense, +Nor so remote from Phoebus' influence. +Whether to Latian shores your course is bent, +Or, driv'n by tempests from your first intent, +You seek the good Acestes' government, +Your men shall be receiv'd, your fleet repair'd, +And sail, with ships of convoy for your guard: +Or, would you stay, and join your friendly pow'rs +To raise and to defend the Tyrian tow'rs, +My wealth, my city, and myself are yours. +And would to Heav'n, the Storm, you felt, would bring +On Carthaginian coasts your wand'ring king. +My people shall, by my command, explore +The ports and creeks of ev'ry winding shore, +And towns, and wilds, and shady woods, in quest +Of so renown'd and so desir'd a guest." + +Rais'd in his mind the Trojan hero stood, +And long'd to break from out his ambient cloud: +Achates found it, and thus urg'd his way: +"From whence, O goddess-born, this long delay? +What more can you desire, your welcome sure, +Your fleet in safety, and your friends secure? +One only wants; and him we saw in vain +Oppose the Storm, and swallow'd in the main. +Orontes in his fate our forfeit paid; +The rest agrees with what your mother said." +Scarce had he spoken, when the cloud gave way, +The mists flew upward and dissolv'd in day. + +The Trojan chief appear'd in open sight, +August in visage, and serenely bright. +His mother goddess, with her hands divine, +Had form'd his curling locks, and made his temples shine, +And giv'n his rolling eyes a sparkling grace, +And breath'd a youthful vigor on his face; +Like polish'd ivory, beauteous to behold, +Or Parian marble, when enchas'd in gold: +Thus radiant from the circling cloud he broke, +And thus with manly modesty he spoke: + +"He whom you seek am I; by tempests toss'd, +And sav'd from shipwreck on your Libyan coast; +Presenting, gracious queen, before your throne, +A prince that owes his life to you alone. +Fair majesty, the refuge and redress +Of those whom fate pursues, and wants oppress, +You, who your pious offices employ +To save the relics of abandon'd Troy; +Receive the shipwreck'd on your friendly shore, +With hospitable rites relieve the poor; +Associate in your town a wand'ring train, +And strangers in your palace entertain: +What thanks can wretched fugitives return, +Who, scatter'd thro' the world, in exile mourn? +The gods, if gods to goodness are inclin'd; +If acts of mercy touch their heav'nly mind, +And, more than all the gods, your gen'rous heart. +Conscious of worth, requite its own desert! +In you this age is happy, and this earth, +And parents more than mortal gave you birth. +While rolling rivers into seas shall run, +And round the space of heav'n the radiant sun; +While trees the mountain tops with shades supply, +Your honor, name, and praise shall never die. +Whate'er abode my fortune has assign'd, +Your image shall be present in my mind." +Thus having said, he turn'd with pious haste, +And joyful his expecting friends embrac'd: +With his right hand Ilioneus was grac'd, +Serestus with his left; then to his breast +Cloanthus and the noble Gyas press'd; +And so by turns descended to the rest. + +The Tyrian queen stood fix'd upon his face, +Pleas'd with his motions, ravish'd with his grace; +Admir'd his fortunes, more admir'd the man; +Then recollected stood, and thus began: +"What fate, O goddess-born; what angry pow'rs +Have cast you shipwrack'd on our barren shores? +Are you the great Aeneas, known to fame, +Who from celestial seed your lineage claim? + +The same Aeneas whom fair Venus bore +To fam'd Anchises on th' Idaean shore? +It calls into my mind, tho' then a child, +When Teucer came, from Salamis exil'd, +And sought my father's aid, to be restor'd: +My father Belus then with fire and sword +Invaded Cyprus, made the region bare, +And, conqu'ring, finish'd the successful war. +From him the Trojan siege I understood, +The Grecian chiefs, and your illustrious blood. +Your foe himself the Dardan valor prais'd, +And his own ancestry from Trojans rais'd. +Enter, my noble guest, and you shall find, +If not a costly welcome, yet a kind: +For I myself, like you, have been distress'd, +Till Heav'n afforded me this place of rest; +Like you, an alien in a land unknown, +I learn to pity woes so like my own." +She said, and to the palace led her guest; +Then offer'd incense, and proclaim'd a feast. +Nor yet less careful for her absent friends, +Twice ten fat oxen to the ships she sends; +Besides a hundred boars, a hundred lambs, +With bleating cries, attend their milky dams; +And jars of gen'rous wine and spacious bowls +She gives, to cheer the sailors' drooping souls. +Now purple hangings clothe the palace walls, +And sumptuous feasts are made in splendid halls: +On Tyrian carpets, richly wrought, they dine; +With loads of massy plate the sideboards shine, +And antique vases, all of gold emboss'd +(The gold itself inferior to the cost), +Of curious work, where on the sides were seen +The fights and figures of illustrious men, +From their first founder to the present queen. + +The good Aeneas, paternal care +Iulus' absence could no longer bear, +Dispatch'd Achates to the ships in haste, +To give a glad relation of the past, +And, fraught with precious gifts, to bring the boy, +Snatch'd from the ruins of unhappy Troy: +A robe of tissue, stiff with golden wire; +An upper vest, once Helen's rich attire, +From Argos by the fam'd adultress brought, +With golden flow'rs and winding foliage wrought, +Her mother Leda's present, when she came +To ruin Troy and set the world on flame; +The scepter Priam's eldest daughter bore, +Her orient necklace, and the crown she wore +Of double texture, glorious to behold, +One order set with gems, and one with gold. +Instructed thus, the wise Achates goes, +And in his diligence his duty shows. + +But Venus, anxious for her son's affairs, +New counsels tries, and new designs prepares: +That Cupid should assume the shape and face +Of sweet Ascanius, and the sprightly grace; +Should bring the presents, in her nephew's stead, +And in Eliza's veins the gentle poison shed: +For much she fear'd the Tyrians, double-tongued, +And knew the town to Juno's care belong'd. +These thoughts by night her golden slumbers broke, +And thus alarm'd, to winged Love she spoke: +"My son, my strength, whose mighty pow'r alone +Controls the Thund'rer on his awful throne, +To thee thy much-afflicted mother flies, +And on thy succor and thy faith relies. +Thou know'st, my son, how Jove's revengeful wife, +By force and fraud, attempts thy brother's life; +And often hast thou mourn'd with me his pains. +Him Dido now with blandishment detains; +But I suspect the town where Juno reigns. +For this 't is needful to prevent her art, +And fire with love the proud Phoenician's heart: +A love so violent, so strong, so sure, +As neither age can change, nor art can cure. +How this may be perform'd, now take my mind: +Ascanius by his father is design'd +To come, with presents laden, from the port, +To gratify the queen, and gain the court. +I mean to plunge the boy in pleasing sleep, +And, ravish'd, in Idalian bow'rs to keep, +Or high Cythera, that the sweet deceit +May pass unseen, and none prevent the cheat. +Take thou his form and shape. I beg the grace +But only for a night's revolving space: +Thyself a boy, assume a boy's dissembled face; +That when, amidst the fervor of the feast, +The Tyrian hugs and fonds thee on her breast, +And with sweet kisses in her arms constrains, +Thou may'st infuse thy venom in her veins." +The God of Love obeys, and sets aside +His bow and quiver, and his plumy pride; +He walks Iulus in his mother's sight, +And in the sweet resemblance takes delight. + +The goddess then to young Ascanius flies, +And in a pleasing slumber seals his eyes: +Lull'd in her lap, amidst a train of Loves, +She gently bears him to her blissful groves, +Then with a wreath of myrtle crowns his head, +And softly lays him on a flow'ry bed. +Cupid meantime assum'd his form and face, +Foll'wing Achates with a shorter pace, +And brought the gifts. The queen already sate +Amidst the Trojan lords, in shining state, +High on a golden bed: her princely guest +Was next her side; in order sate the rest. +Then canisters with bread are heap'd on high; +Th' attendants water for their hands supply, +And, having wash'd, with silken towels dry. +Next fifty handmaids in long order bore +The censers, and with fumes the gods adore: +Then youths, and virgins twice as many, join +To place the dishes, and to serve the wine. +The Tyrian train, admitted to the feast, +Approach, and on the painted couches rest. +All on the Trojan gifts with wonder gaze, +But view the beauteous boy with more amaze, +His rosy-color'd cheeks, his radiant eyes, +His motions, voice, and shape, and all the god's disguise; +Nor pass unprais'd the vest and veil divine, +Which wand'ring foliage and rich flow'rs entwine. +But, far above the rest, the royal dame, +(Already doom'd to love's disastrous flame,) +With eyes insatiate, and tumultuous joy, +Beholds the presents, and admires the boy. +The guileful god about the hero long, +With children's play, and false embraces, hung; +Then sought the queen: she took him to her arms +With greedy pleasure, and devour'd his charms. +Unhappy Dido little thought what guest, +How dire a god, she drew so near her breast; +But he, not mindless of his mother's pray'r, +Works in the pliant bosom of the fair, +And molds her heart anew, and blots her former care. +The dead is to the living love resign'd; +And all Aeneas enters in her mind. + +Now, when the rage of hunger was appeas'd, +The meat remov'd, and ev'ry guest was pleas'd, +The golden bowls with sparkling wine are crown'd, +And thro' the palace cheerful cries resound. +From gilded roofs depending lamps display +Nocturnal beams, that emulate the day. +A golden bowl, that shone with gems divine, +The queen commanded to be crown'd with wine: +The bowl that Belus us'd, and all the Tyrian line. +Then, silence thro' the hall proclaim'd, she spoke: +"O hospitable Jove! we thus invoke, +With solemn rites, thy sacred name and pow'r; +Bless to both nations this auspicious hour! +So may the Trojan and the Tyrian line +In lasting concord from this day combine. +Thou, Bacchus, god of joys and friendly cheer, +And gracious Juno, both be present here! +And you, my lords of Tyre, your vows address +To Heav'n with mine, to ratify the peace." +The goblet then she took, with nectar crown'd +(Sprinkling the first libations on the ground,) +And rais'd it to her mouth with sober grace; +Then, sipping, offer'd to the next in place. +'T was Bitias whom she call'd, a thirsty soul; +He took challenge, and embrac'd the bowl, +With pleasure swill'd the gold, nor ceas'd to draw, +Till he the bottom of the brimmer saw. +The goblet goes around: Iopas brought +His golden lyre, and sung what ancient Atlas taught: +The various labors of the wand'ring moon, +And whence proceed th' eclipses of the sun; +Th' original of men and beasts; and whence +The rains arise, and fires their warmth dispense, +And fix'd and erring stars dispose their influence; +What shakes the solid earth; what cause delays +The summer nights and shortens winter days. +With peals of shouts the Tyrians praise the song: +Those peals are echo'd by the Trojan throng. +Th' unhappy queen with talk prolong'd the night, +And drank large draughts of love with vast delight; +Of Priam much enquir'd, of Hector more; +Then ask'd what arms the swarthy Memnon wore, +What troops he landed on the Trojan shore; +The steeds of Diomede varied the discourse, +And fierce Achilles, with his matchless force; +At length, as fate and her ill stars requir'd, +To hear the series of the war desir'd. +"Relate at large, my godlike guest," she said, +"The Grecian stratagems, the town betray'd: +The fatal issue of so long a war, +Your flight, your wand'rings, and your woes, declare; +For, since on ev'ry sea, on ev'ry coast, +Your men have been distress'd, your navy toss'd, +Sev'n times the sun has either tropic view'd, +The winter banish'd, and the spring renew'd." +BOOK II + +All were attentive to the godlike man, +When from his lofty couch he thus began: +"Great queen, what you command me to relate +Renews the sad remembrance of our fate: +An empire from its old foundations rent, +And ev'ry woe the Trojans underwent; +A peopled city made a desart place; +All that I saw, and part of which I was: +Not ev'n the hardest of our foes could hear, +Nor stern Ulysses tell without a tear. +And now the latter watch of wasting night, +And setting stars, to kindly rest invite; +But, since you take such int'rest in our woe, +And Troy's disastrous end desire to know, +I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell +What in our last and fatal night befell. + +"By destiny compell'd, and in despair, +The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war, +And by Minerva's aid a fabric rear'd, +Which like a steed of monstrous height appear'd: +The sides were plank'd with pine; they feign'd it made +For their return, and this the vow they paid. +Thus they pretend, but in the hollow side +Selected numbers of their soldiers hide: +With inward arms the dire machine they load, +And iron bowels stuff the dark abode. +In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle +(While Fortune did on Priam's empire smile) +Renown'd for wealth; but, since, a faithless bay, +Where ships expos'd to wind and weather lay. +There was their fleet conceal'd. We thought, for Greece +Their sails were hoisted, and our fears release. +The Trojans, coop'd within their walls so long, +Unbar their gates, and issue in a throng, +Like swarming bees, and with delight survey +The camp deserted, where the Grecians lay: +The quarters of the sev'ral chiefs they show'd; +Here Phoenix, here Achilles, made abode; +Here join'd the battles; there the navy rode. +Part on the pile their wond'ring eyes employ: +The pile by Pallas rais'd to ruin Troy. +Thymoetes first ('t is doubtful whether hir'd, +Or so the Trojan destiny requir'd) +Mov'd that the ramparts might be broken down, +To lodge the monster fabric in the town. +But Capys, and the rest of sounder mind, +The fatal present to the flames designed, +Or to the wat'ry deep; at least to bore +The hollow sides, and hidden frauds explore. +The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, +With noise say nothing, and in parts divide. +Laocoon, follow'd by a num'rous crowd, +Ran from the fort, and cried, from far, aloud: +'O wretched countrymen! what fury reigns? +What more than madness has possess'd your brains? +Think you the Grecians from your coasts are gone? +And are Ulysses' arts no better known? +This hollow fabric either must inclose, +Within its blind recess, our secret foes; +Or 't is an engine rais'd above the town, +T' o'erlook the walls, and then to batter down. +Somewhat is sure design'd, by fraud or force: +Trust not their presents, nor admit the horse.' +Thus having said, against the steed he threw +His forceful spear, which, hissing as flew, +Pierc'd thro' the yielding planks of jointed wood, +And trembling in the hollow belly stood. +The sides, transpierc'd, return a rattling sound, +And groans of Greeks inclos'd come issuing thro' the wound +And, had not Heav'n the fall of Troy design'd, +Or had not men been fated to be blind, +Enough was said and done t'inspire a better mind. +Then had our lances pierc'd the treach'rous wood, +And Ilian tow'rs and Priam's empire stood. +Meantime, with shouts, the Trojan shepherds bring +A captive Greek, in bands, before the king; +Taken to take; who made himself their prey, +T' impose on their belief, and Troy betray; +Fix'd on his aim, and obstinately bent +To die undaunted, or to circumvent. +About the captive, tides of Trojans flow; +All press to see, and some insult the foe. +Now hear how well the Greeks their wiles disguis'd; +Behold a nation in a man compris'd. +Trembling the miscreant stood, unarm'd and bound; +He star'd, and roll'd his haggard eyes around, +Then said: 'Alas! what earth remains, what sea +Is open to receive unhappy me? +What fate a wretched fugitive attends, +Scorn'd by my foes, abandon'd by my friends?' +He said, and sigh'd, and cast a rueful eye: +Our pity kindles, and our passions die. +We cheer youth to make his own defense, +And freely tell us what he was, and whence: +What news he could impart, we long to know, +And what to credit from a captive foe. + +"His fear at length dismiss'd, he said: 'Whate'er +My fate ordains, my words shall be sincere: +I neither can nor dare my birth disclaim; +Greece is my country, Sinon is my name. +Tho' plung'd by Fortune's pow'r in misery, +'T is not in Fortune's pow'r to make me lie. +If any chance has hither brought the name +Of Palamedes, not unknown to fame, +Who suffer'd from the malice of the times, +Accus'd and sentenc'd for pretended crimes, +Because these fatal wars he would prevent; +Whose death the wretched Greeks too late lament- +Me, then a boy, my father, poor and bare +Of other means, committed to his care, +His kinsman and companion in the war. +While Fortune favor'd, while his arms support +The cause, and rul'd the counsels, of the court, +I made some figure there; nor was my name +Obscure, nor I without my share of fame. +But when Ulysses, with fallacious arts, +Had made impression in the people's hearts, +And forg'd a treason in my patron's name +(I speak of things too far divulg'd by fame), +My kinsman fell. Then I, without support, +In private mourn'd his loss, and left the court. +Mad as I was, I could not bear his fate +With silent grief, but loudly blam'd the state, +And curs'd the direful author of my woes. +'T was told again; and hence my ruin rose. +I threaten'd, if indulgent Heav'n once more +Would land me safely on my native shore, +His death with double vengeance to restore. +This mov'd the murderer's hate; and soon ensued +Th' effects of malice from a man so proud. +Ambiguous rumors thro' the camp he spread, +And sought, by treason, my devoted head; +New crimes invented; left unturn'd no stone, +To make my guilt appear, and hide his own; +Till Calchas was by force and threat'ning wrought- +But why- why dwell I on that anxious thought? +If on my nation just revenge you seek, +And 't is t' appear a foe, t' appear a Greek; +Already you my name and country know; +Assuage your thirst of blood, and strike the blow: +My death will both the kingly brothers please, +And set insatiate Ithacus at ease.' +This fair unfinish'd tale, these broken starts, +Rais'd expectations in our longing hearts: +Unknowing as we were in Grecian arts. +His former trembling once again renew'd, +With acted fear, the villain thus pursued: + +"'Long had the Grecians (tir'd with fruitless care, +And wearied with an unsuccessful war) +Resolv'd to raise the siege, and leave the town; +And, had the gods permitted, they had gone; +But oft the wintry seas and southern winds +Withstood their passage home, and chang'd their minds. +Portents and prodigies their souls amaz'd; +But most, when this stupendous pile was rais'd: +Then flaming meteors, hung in air, were seen, +And thunders rattled thro' a sky serene. +Dismay'd, and fearful of some dire event, +Eurypylus t' enquire their fate was sent. +He from the gods this dreadful answer brought: + +"O Grecians, when the Trojan shores you sought, +Your passage with a virgin's blood was bought: +So must your safe return be bought again, +And Grecian blood once more atone the main." +The spreading rumor round the people ran; +All fear'd, and each believ'd himself the man. +Ulysses took th' advantage of their fright; +Call'd Calchas, and produc'd in open sight: +Then bade him name the wretch, ordain'd by fate +The public victim, to redeem the state. +Already some presag'd the dire event, +And saw what sacrifice Ulysses meant. +For twice five days the good old seer withstood +Th' intended treason, and was dumb to blood, +Till, tir'd, with endless clamors and pursuit +Of Ithacus, he stood no longer mute; +But, as it was agreed, pronounc'd that I +Was destin'd by the wrathful gods to die. +All prais'd the sentence, pleas'd the storm should fall +On one alone, whose fury threaten'd all. +The dismal day was come; the priests prepare +Their leaven'd cakes, and fillets for my hair. +I follow'd nature's laws, and must avow +I broke my bonds and fled the fatal blow. +Hid in a weedy lake all night I lay, +Secure of safety when they sail'd away. +But now what further hopes for me remain, +To see my friends, or native soil, again; +My tender infants, or my careful sire, +Whom they returning will to death require; +Will perpetrate on them their first design, +And take the forfeit of their heads for mine? +Which, O! if pity mortal minds can move, +If there be faith below, or gods above, +If innocence and truth can claim desert, +Ye Trojans, from an injur'd wretch avert.' + +"False tears true pity move; the king commands +To loose his fetters, and unbind his hands: +Then adds these friendly words: 'Dismiss thy fears; +Forget the Greeks; be mine as thou wert theirs. +But truly tell, was it for force or guile, +Or some religious end, you rais'd the pile?' +Thus said the king. He, full of fraudful arts, +This well-invented tale for truth imparts: +'Ye lamps of heav'n!' he said, and lifted high +His hands now free, 'thou venerable sky! +Inviolable pow'rs, ador'd with dread! +Ye fatal fillets, that once bound this head! +Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I fled! +Be all of you adjur'd; and grant I may, +Without a crime, th' ungrateful Greeks betray, +Reveal the secrets of the guilty state, +And justly punish whom I justly hate! +But you, O king, preserve the faith you gave, +If I, to save myself, your empire save. +The Grecian hopes, and all th' attempts they made, +Were only founded on Minerva's aid. +But from the time when impious Diomede, +And false Ulysses, that inventive head, +Her fatal image from the temple drew, +The sleeping guardians of the castle slew, +Her virgin statue with their bloody hands +Polluted, and profan'd her holy bands; +From thence the tide of fortune left their shore, +And ebb'd much faster than it flow'd before: +Their courage languish'd, as their hopes decay'd; +And Pallas, now averse, refus'd her aid. +Nor did the goddess doubtfully declare +Her alter'd mind and alienated care. +When first her fatal image touch'd the ground, +She sternly cast her glaring eyes around, +That sparkled as they roll'd, and seem'd to threat: +Her heav'nly limbs distill'd a briny sweat. +Thrice from the ground she leap'd, was seen to wield +Her brandish'd lance, and shake her horrid shield. +Then Calchas bade our host for flight +And hope no conquest from the tedious war, +Till first they sail'd for Greece; with pray'rs besought +Her injur'd pow'r, and better omens brought. +And now their navy plows the wat'ry main, +Yet soon expect it on your shores again, +With Pallas pleas'd; as Calchas did ordain. +But first, to reconcile the blue-ey'd maid +For her stol'n statue and her tow'r betray'd, +Warn'd by the seer, to her offended name +We rais'd and dedicate this wondrous frame, +So lofty, lest thro' your forbidden gates +It pass, and intercept our better fates: +For, once admitted there, our hopes are lost; +And Troy may then a new Palladium boast; +For so religion and the gods ordain, +That, if you violate with hands profane +Minerva's gift, your town in flames shall burn, +(Which omen, O ye gods, on Graecia turn!) +But if it climb, with your assisting hands, +The Trojan walls, and in the city stands; +Then Troy shall Argos and Mycenae burn, +And the reverse of fate on us return.' + +"With such deceits he gain'd their easy hearts, +Too prone to credit his perfidious arts. +What Diomede, nor Thetis' greater son, +A thousand ships, nor ten years' siege, had done- +False tears and fawning words the city won. + +"A greater omen, and of worse portent, +Did our unwary minds with fear torment, +Concurring to produce the dire event. +Laocoon, Neptune's priest by lot that year, +With solemn pomp then sacrific'd a steer; +When, dreadful to behold, from sea we spied +Two serpents, rank'd abreast, the seas divide, +And smoothly sweep along the swelling tide. +Their flaming crests above the waves they show; +Their bellies seem to burn the seas below; +Their speckled tails advance to steer their course, +And on the sounding shore the flying billows force. +And now the strand, and now the plain they held; +Their ardent eyes with bloody streaks were fill'd; +Their nimble tongues they brandish'd as they came, +And lick'd their hissing jaws, that sputter'd flame. +We fled amaz'd; their destin'd way they take, +And to Laocoon and his children make; +And first around the tender boys they wind, +Then with their sharpen'd fangs their limbs and bodies grind. +The wretched father, running to their aid +With pious haste, but vain, they next invade; +Twice round his waist their winding volumes roll'd; +And twice about his gasping throat they fold. +The priest thus doubly chok'd, their crests divide, +And tow'ring o'er his head in triumph ride. +With both his hands he labors at the knots; +His holy fillets the blue venom blots; +His roaring fills the flitting air around. +Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound, +He breaks his bands, the fatal altar flies, +And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies. +Their tasks perform'd, the serpents quit their prey, +And to the tow'r of Pallas make their way: +Couch'd at her feet, they lie protected there +By her large buckler and protended spear. +Amazement seizes all; the gen'ral cry +Proclaims Laocoon justly doom'd to die, +Whose hand the will of Pallas had withstood, +And dared to violate the sacred wood. +All vote t' admit the steed, that vows be paid +And incense offer'd to th' offended maid. +A spacious breach is made; the town lies bare; +Some hoisting-levers, some the wheels prepare +And fasten to the horse's feet; the rest +With cables haul along th' unwieldly beast. +Each on his fellow for assistance calls; +At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls, +Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets crown'd, +And choirs of virgins, sing and dance around. +Thus rais'd aloft, and then descending down, +It enters o'er our heads, and threats the town. +O sacred city, built by hands divine! +O valiant heroes of the Trojan line! +Four times he struck: as oft the clashing sound +Of arms was heard, and inward groans rebound. +Yet, mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate, +We haul along the horse in solemn state; +Then place the dire portent within the tow'r. +Cassandra cried, and curs'd th' unhappy hour; +Foretold our fate; but, by the god's decree, +All heard, and none believ'd the prophecy. +With branches we the fanes adorn, and waste, +In jollity, the day ordain'd to be the last. +Meantime the rapid heav'ns roll'd down the light, +And on the shaded ocean rush'd the night; +Our men, secure, nor guards nor sentries held, +But easy sleep their weary limbs compell'd. +The Grecians had embark'd their naval pow'rs +From Tenedos, and sought our well-known shores, +Safe under covert of the silent night, +And guided by th' imperial galley's light; +When Sinon, favor'd by the partial gods, +Unlock'd the horse, and op'd his dark abodes; +Restor'd to vital air our hidden foes, +Who joyful from their long confinement rose. +Tysander bold, and Sthenelus their guide, +And dire Ulysses down the cable slide: +Then Thoas, Athamas, and Pyrrhus haste; +Nor was the Podalirian hero last, +Nor injur'd Menelaus, nor the fam'd +Epeus, who the fatal engine fram'd. +A nameless crowd succeed; their forces join +T' invade the town, oppress'd with sleep and wine. +Those few they find awake first meet their fate; +Then to their fellows they unbar the gate. + +"'T was in the dead of night, when sleep repairs +Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares, +When Hector's ghost before my sight appears: +A bloody shroud he seem'd, and bath'd in tears; +Such as he was, when, by Pelides slain, +Thessalian coursers dragg'd him o'er the plain. +Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs were thrust +Thro' the bor'd holes; his body black with dust; +Unlike that Hector who return'd from toils +Of war, triumphant, in Aeacian spoils, +Or him who made the fainting Greeks retire, +And launch'd against their navy Phrygian fire. +His hair and beard stood stiffen'd with his gore; +And all the wounds he for his country bore +Now stream'd afresh, and with new purple ran. +I wept to see the visionary man, +And, while my trance continued, thus began: +'O light of Trojans, and support of Troy, +Thy father's champion, and thy country's joy! +O, long expected by thy friends! from whence +Art thou so late return'd for our defense? +Do we behold thee, wearied as we are +With length of labors, and with toils of war? +After so many fun'rals of thy own +Art thou restor'd to thy declining town? +But say, what wounds are these? What new disgrace +Deforms the manly features of thy face?' + +"To this the specter no reply did frame, +But answer'd to the cause for which he came, +And, groaning from the bottom of his breast, +This warning in these mournful words express'd: +'O goddess-born! escape, by timely flight, +The flames and horrors of this fatal night. +The foes already have possess'd the wall; +Troy nods from high, and totters to her fall. +Enough is paid to Priam's royal name, +More than enough to duty and to fame. +If by a mortal hand my father's throne +Could be defended, 't was by mine alone. +Now Troy to thee commends her future state, +And gives her gods companions of thy fate: +From their assistance walls expect, +Which, wand'ring long, at last thou shalt erect.' +He said, and brought me, from their blest abodes, +The venerable statues of the gods, +With ancient Vesta from the sacred choir, +The wreaths and relics of th' immortal fire. + +"Now peals of shouts come thund'ring from afar, +Cries, threats, and loud laments, and mingled war: +The noise approaches, tho' our palace stood +Aloof from streets, encompass'd with a wood. +Louder, and yet more loud, I hear th' alarms +Of human cries distinct, and clashing arms. +Fear broke my slumbers; I no longer stay, +But mount the terrace, thence the town survey, +And hearken what the frightful sounds convey. +Thus, when a flood of fire by wind is borne, +Crackling it rolls, and mows the standing corn; +Or deluges, descending on the plains, +Sweep o'er the yellow year, destroy the pains +Of lab'ring oxen and the peasant's gains; +Unroot the forest oaks, and bear away +Flocks, folds, and trees, and undistinguish'd prey: +The shepherd climbs the cliff, and sees from far +The wasteful ravage of the wat'ry war. +Then Hector's faith was manifestly clear'd, +And Grecian frauds in open light appear'd. +The palace of Deiphobus ascends +In smoky flames, and catches on his friends. +Ucalegon burns next: the seas are bright +With splendor not their own, and shine with Trojan light. +New clamors and new clangors now arise, +The sound of trumpets mix'd with fighting cries. +With frenzy seiz'd, I run to meet th' alarms, +Resolv'd on death, resolv'd to die in arms, +But first to gather friends, with them t' oppose +(If fortune favor'd) and repel the foes; +Spurr'd by my courage, by my country fir'd, +With sense of honor and revenge inspir'd. + +"Pantheus, Apollo's priest, a sacred name, +Had scap'd the Grecian swords, and pass'd the flame: +With relics loaden. to my doors he fled, +And by the hand his tender grandson led. +'What hope, O Pantheus? whither can we run? +Where make a stand? and what may yet be done?' +Scarce had I said, when Pantheus, with a groan: +'Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town! +The fatal day, th' appointed hour, is come, +When wrathful Jove's irrevocable doom +Transfers the Trojan state to Grecian hands. +The fire consumes the town, the foe commands; +And armed hosts, an unexpected force, +Break from the bowels of the fatal horse. +Within the gates, proud Sinon throws about +The flames; and foes for entrance press without, +With thousand others, whom I fear to name, +More than from Argos or Mycenae came. +To sev'ral posts their parties they divide; +Some block the narrow streets, some scour the wide: +The bold they kill, th' unwary they surprise; +Who fights finds death, and death finds him who flies. +The warders of the gate but scarce maintain +Th' unequal combat, and resist in vain.' + +"I heard; and Heav'n, that well-born souls inspires, +Prompts me thro' lifted swords and rising fires +To run where clashing arms and clamor calls, +And rush undaunted to defend the walls. +Ripheus and Iph'itus by my side engage, +For valor one renown'd, and one for age. +Dymas and Hypanis by moonlight knew +My motions and my mien, and to my party drew; +With young Coroebus, who by love was led +To win renown and fair Cassandra's bed, +And lately brought his troops to Priam's aid, +Forewarn'd in vain by the prophetic maid. +Whom when I saw resolv'd in arms to fall, +And that one spirit animated all: +'Brave souls!' said I,- 'but brave, alas! in vain- +Come, finish what our cruel fates ordain. +You see the desp'rate state of our affairs, +And heav'n's protecting pow'rs are deaf to pray'rs. +The passive gods behold the Greeks defile +Their temples, and abandon to the spoil +Their own abodes: we, feeble few, conspire +To save a sinking town, involv'd in fire. +Then let us fall, but fall amidst our foes: +Despair of life the means of living shows.' +So bold a speech incourag'd their desire +Of death, and added fuel to their fire. + +"As hungry wolves, with raging appetite, +Scour thro' the fields, nor fear the stormy night- +Their whelps at home expect the promis'd food, +And long to temper their dry chaps in blood- +So rush'd we forth at once; resolv'd to die, +Resolv'd, in death, the last extremes to try. +We leave the narrow lanes behind, and dare +Th' unequal combat in the public square: +Night was our friend; our leader was despair. +What tongue can tell the slaughter of that night? +What eyes can weep the sorrows and affright? +An ancient and imperial city falls: +The streets are fill'd with frequent funerals; +Houses and holy temples float in blood, +And hostile nations make a common flood. +Not only Trojans fall; but, in their turn, +The vanquish'd triumph, and the victors mourn. +Ours take new courage from despair and night: +Confus'd the fortune is, confus'd the fight. +All parts resound with tumults, plaints, and fears; +And grisly Death in sundry shapes appears. +Androgeos fell among us, with his band, +Who thought us Grecians newly come to land. +'From whence,' said he, 'my friends, this long delay? +You loiter, while the spoils are borne away: +Our ships are laden with the Trojan store; +And you, like truants, come too late ashore.' +He said, but soon corrected his mistake, +Found, by the doubtful answers which we make: +Amaz'd, he would have shunn'd th' unequal fight; +But we, more num'rous, intercept his flight. +As when some peasant, in a bushy brake, +Has with unwary footing press'd a snake; +He starts aside, astonish'd, when he spies +His rising crest, blue neck, and rolling eyes; +So from our arms surpris'd Androgeos flies. +In vain; for him and his we compass'd round, +Possess'd with fear, unknowing of the ground, +And of their lives an easy conquest found. +Thus Fortune on our first endeavor smil'd. +Coroebus then, with youthful hopes beguil'd, +Swoln with success, and a daring mind, +This new invention fatally design'd. +'My friends,' said he, 'since Fortune shows the way, +'T is fit we should th' auspicious guide obey. +For what has she these Grecian arms bestow'd, +But their destruction, and the Trojans' good? +Then change we shields, and their devices bear: +Let fraud supply the want of force in war. +They find us arms.' This said, himself he dress'd +In dead Androgeos' spoils, his upper vest, +His painted buckler, and his plumy crest. +Thus Ripheus, Dymas, all the Trojan train, +Lay down their own attire, and strip the slain. +Mix'd with the Greeks, we go with ill presage, +Flatter'd with hopes to glut our greedy rage; +Unknown, assaulting whom we blindly meet, +And strew with Grecian carcasses the street. +Thus while their straggling parties we defeat, +Some to the shore and safer ships retreat; +And some, oppress'd with more ignoble fear, +Remount the hollow horse, and pant in secret there. + +"But, ah! what use of valor can be made, +When heav'n's propitious pow'rs refuse their aid! +Behold the royal prophetess, the fair +Cassandra, dragg'd by her dishevel'd hair, +Whom not Minerva's shrine, nor sacred bands, +In safety could protect from sacrilegious hands: +On heav'n she cast her eyes, she sigh'd, she cried- +'T was all she could- her tender arms were tied. +So sad a sight Coroebus could not bear; +But, fir'd with rage, distracted with despair, +Amid the barb'rous ravishers he flew: +Our leader's rash example we pursue. +But storms of stones, from the proud temple's height, +Pour down, and on our batter'd helms alight: +We from our friends receiv'd this fatal blow, +Who thought us Grecians, as we seem'd in show. +They aim at the mistaken crests, from high; +And ours beneath the pond'rous ruin lie. +Then, mov'd with anger and disdain, to see +Their troops dispers'd, the royal virgin free, +The Grecians rally, and their pow'rs unite, +With fury charge us, and renew the fight. +The brother kings with Ajax join their force, +And the whole squadron of Thessalian horse. + +"Thus, when the rival winds their quarrel try, +Contending for the kingdom of the sky, +South, east, and west, on airy coursers borne; +The whirlwind gathers, and the woods are torn: +Then Nereus strikes the deep; the billows rise, +And, mix'd with ooze and sand, pollute the skies. +The troops we squander'd first again appear +From several quarters, and enclose the rear. +They first observe, and to the rest betray, +Our diff'rent speech; our borrow'd arms survey. +Oppress'd with odds, we fall; Coroebus first, +At Pallas' altar, by Peneleus pierc'd. +Then Ripheus follow'd, in th' unequal fight; +Just of his word, observant of the right: +Heav'n thought not so. Dymas their fate attends, +With Hypanis, mistaken by their friends. +Nor, Pantheus, thee, thy miter, nor the bands +Of awful Phoebus, sav'd from impious hands. +Ye Trojan flames, your testimony bear, +What I perform'd, and what I suffer'd there; +No sword avoiding in the fatal strife, +Expos'd to death, and prodigal of life; +Witness, ye heavens! I live not by my fault: +I strove to have deserv'd the death I sought. +But, when I could not fight, and would have died, +Borne off to distance by the growing tide, +Old Iphitus and I were hurried thence, +With Pelias wounded, and without defense. +New clamors from th' invested palace ring: +We run to die, or disengage the king. +So hot th' assault, so high the tumult rose, +While ours defend, and while the Greeks oppose +As all the Dardan and Argolic race +Had been contracted in that narrow space; +Or as all Ilium else were void of fear, +And tumult, war, and slaughter, only there. +Their targets in a tortoise cast, the foes, +Secure advancing, to the turrets rose: +Some mount the scaling ladders; some, more bold, +Swerve upwards, and by posts and pillars hold; +Their left hand gripes their bucklers in th' ascent, +While with their right they seize the battlement. +From their demolish'd tow'rs the Trojans throw +Huge heaps of stones, that, falling, crush the foe; +And heavy beams and rafters from the sides +(Such arms their last necessity provides) +And gilded roofs, come tumbling from on high, +The marks of state and ancient royalty. +The guards below, fix'd in the pass, attend +The charge undaunted, and the gate defend. +Renew'd in courage with recover'd breath, +A second time we ran to tempt our death, +To clear the palace from the foe, succeed +The weary living, and revenge the dead. + +"A postern door, yet unobserv'd and free, +Join'd by the length of a blind gallery, +To the king's closet led: a way well known +To Hector's wife, while Priam held the throne, +Thro' which she brought Astyanax, unseen, +To cheer his grandsire and his grandsire's queen. +Thro' this we pass, and mount the tow'r, from whence +With unavailing arms the Trojans make defense. +From this the trembling king had oft descried +The Grecian camp, and saw their navy ride. +Beams from its lofty height with swords we hew, +Then, wrenching with our hands, th' assault renew; +And, where the rafters on the columns meet, +We push them headlong with our arms and feet. +The lightning flies not swifter than the fall, +Nor thunder louder than the ruin'd wall: +Down goes the top at once; the Greeks beneath +Are piecemeal torn, or pounded into death. +Yet more succeed, and more to death are sent; +We cease not from above, nor they below relent. +Before the gate stood Pyrrhus, threat'ning loud, +With glitt'ring arms conspicuous in the crowd. +So shines, renew'd in youth, the crested snake, +Who slept the winter in a thorny brake, +And, casting off his slough when spring returns, +Now looks aloft, and with new glory burns; +Restor'd with poisonous herbs, his ardent sides +Reflect the sun; and rais'd on spires he rides; +High o'er the grass, hissing he rolls along, +And brandishes by fits his forky tongue. +Proud Periphas, and fierce Automedon, +His father's charioteer, together run +To force the gate; the Scyrian infantry +Rush on in crowds, and the barr'd passage free. +Ent'ring the court, with shouts the skies they rend; +And flaming firebrands to the roofs ascend. +Himself, among the foremost, deals his blows, +And with his ax repeated strokes bestows +On the strong doors; then all their shoulders ply, +Till from the posts the brazen hinges fly. +He hews apace; the double bars at length +Yield to his ax and unresisted strength. +A mighty breach is made: the rooms conceal'd +Appear, and all the palace is reveal'd; +The halls of audience, and of public state, +And where the lonely queen in secret sate. +Arm'd soldiers now by trembling maids are seen, +With not a door, and scarce a space, between. +The house is fill'd with loud laments and cries, +And shrieks of women rend the vaulted skies; +The fearful matrons run from place to place, +And kiss the thresholds, and the posts embrace. +The fatal work inhuman Pyrrhus plies, +And all his father sparkles in his eyes; +Nor bars, nor fighting guards, his force sustain: +The bars are broken, and the guards are slain. +In rush the Greeks, and all the apartments fill; +Those few defendants whom they find, they kill. +Not with so fierce a rage the foaming flood +Roars, when he finds his rapid course withstood; +Bears down the dams with unresisted sway, +And sweeps the cattle and the cots away. +These eyes beheld him when he march'd between +The brother kings: I saw th' unhappy queen, +The hundred wives, and where old Priam stood, +To stain his hallow'd altar with his brood. +The fifty nuptial beds (such hopes had he, +So large a promise, of a progeny), +The posts, of plated gold, and hung with spoils, +Fell the reward of the proud victor's toils. +Where'er the raging fire had left a space, +The Grecians enter and possess the place. + +"Perhaps you may of Priam's fate enquire. +He, when he saw his regal town on fire, +His ruin'd palace, and his ent'ring foes, +On ev'ry side inevitable woes, +In arms, disus'd, invests his limbs, decay'd, +Like them, with age; a late and useless aid. +His feeble shoulders scarce the weight sustain; +Loaded, not arm'd, he creeps along with pain, +Despairing of success, ambitious to be slain! +Uncover'd but by heav'n, there stood in view +An altar; near the hearth a laurel grew, +Dodder'd with age, whose boughs encompass round +The household gods, and shade the holy ground. +Here Hecuba, with all her helpless train +Of dames, for shelter sought, but sought in vain. +Driv'n like a flock of doves along the sky, +Their images they hug, and to their altars fly. +The Queen, when she beheld her trembling lord, +And hanging by his side a heavy sword, +'What rage,' she cried, 'has seiz'd my husband's mind? +What arms are these, and to what use design'd? +These times want other aids! Were Hector here, +Ev'n Hector now in vain, like Priam, would appear. +With us, one common shelter thou shalt find, +Or in one common fate with us be join'd.' +She said, and with a last salute embrac'd +The poor old man, and by the laurel plac'd. +Behold! Polites, one of Priam's sons, +Pursued by Pyrrhus, there for safety runs. +Thro' swords and foes, amaz'd and hurt, he flies +Thro' empty courts and open galleries. +Him Pyrrhus, urging with his lance, pursues, +And often reaches, and his thrusts renews. +The youth, transfix'd, with lamentable cries, +Expires before his wretched parent's eyes: +Whom gasping at his feet when Priam saw, +The fear of death gave place to nature's law; +And, shaking more with anger than with age, +'The gods,' said he, 'requite thy brutal rage! +As sure they will, barbarian, sure they must, +If there be gods in heav'n, and gods be just- +Who tak'st in wrongs an insolent delight; +With a son's death t' infect a father's sight. +Not he, whom thou and lying fame conspire +To call thee his- not he, thy vaunted sire, +Thus us'd my wretched age: the gods he fear'd, +The laws of nature and of nations heard. +He cheer'd my sorrows, and, for sums of gold, +The bloodless carcass of my Hector sold; +Pitied the woes a parent underwent, +And sent me back in safety from his tent.' + +"This said, his feeble hand a javelin threw, +Which, flutt'ring, seem'd to loiter as it flew: +Just, and but barely, to the mark it held, +And faintly tinkled on the brazen shield. + +"Then Pyrrhus thus: 'Go thou from me to fate, +And to my father my foul deeds relate. +Now die!' With that he dragg'd the trembling sire, +Slidd'ring thro' clotter'd blood and holy mire, +(The mingled paste his murder'd son had made,) +Haul'd from beneath the violated shade, +And on the sacred pile the royal victim laid. +His right hand held his bloody falchion bare, +His left he twisted in his hoary hair; +Then, with a speeding thrust, his heart he found: +The lukewarm blood came rushing thro' the wound, +And sanguine streams distain'd the sacred ground. +Thus Priam fell, and shar'd one common fate +With Troy in ashes, and his ruin'd state: +He, who the scepter of all Asia sway'd, +Whom monarchs like domestic slaves obey'd. +On the bleak shore now lies th' abandon'd king, +A headless carcass, and a nameless thing. + +"Then, not before, I felt my cruddled blood +Congeal with fear, my hair with horror stood: +My father's image fill'd my pious mind, +Lest equal years might equal fortune find. +Again I thought on my forsaken wife, +And trembled for my son's abandon'd life. +I look'd about, but found myself alone, +Deserted at my need! My friends were gone. +Some spent with toil, some with despair oppress'd, +Leap'd headlong from the heights; the flames consum'd the rest. +Thus, wand'ring in my way, without a guide, +The graceless Helen in the porch I spied +Of Vesta's temple; there she lurk'd alone; +Muffled she sate, and, what she could, unknown: +But, by the flames that cast their blaze around, +That common bane of Greece and Troy I found. +For Ilium burnt, she dreads the Trojan sword; +More dreads the vengeance of her injur'd lord; +Ev'n by those gods who refug'd her abhorr'd. +Trembling with rage, the strumpet I regard, +Resolv'd to give her guilt the due reward: +'Shall she triumphant sail before the wind, +And leave in flames unhappy Troy behind? +Shall she her kingdom and her friends review, +In state attended with a captive crew, +While unreveng'd the good old Priam falls, +And Grecian fires consume the Trojan walls? +For this the Phrygian fields and Xanthian flood +Were swell'd with bodies, and were drunk with blood? +'T is true, a soldier can small honor gain, +And boast no conquest, from a woman slain: +Yet shall the fact not pass without applause, +Of vengeance taken in so just a cause; +The punish'd crime shall set my soul at ease, +And murm'ring manes of my friends appease.' +Thus while I rave, a gleam of pleasing light +Spread o'er the place; and, shining heav'nly bright, +My mother stood reveal'd before my sight +Never so radiant did her eyes appear; +Not her own star confess'd a light so clear: +Great in her charms, as when on gods above +She looks, and breathes herself into their love. +She held my hand, the destin'd blow to break; +Then from her rosy lips began to speak: +'My son, from whence this madness, this neglect +Of my commands, and those whom I protect? +Why this unmanly rage? Recall to mind +Whom you forsake, what pledges leave behind. +Look if your helpless father yet survive, +Or if Ascanius or Creusa live. +Around your house the greedy Grecians err; +And these had perish'd in the nightly war, +But for my presence and protecting care. +Not Helen's face, nor Paris, was in fault; +But by the gods was this destruction brought. +Now cast your eyes around, while I dissolve +The mists and films that mortal eyes involve, +Purge from your sight the dross, and make you see +The shape of each avenging deity. +Enlighten'd thus, my just commands fulfil, +Nor fear obedience to your mother's will. +Where yon disorder'd heap of ruin lies, +Stones rent from stones; where clouds of dust arise- +Amid that smother Neptune holds his place, +Below the wall's foundation drives his mace, +And heaves the building from the solid base. +Look where, in arms, imperial Juno stands +Full in the Scaean gate, with loud commands, +Urging on shore the tardy Grecian bands. +See! Pallas, of her snaky buckler proud, +Bestrides the tow'r, refulgent thro' the cloud: +See! Jove new courage to the foe supplies, +And arms against the town the partial deities. +Haste hence, my son; this fruitless labor end: +Haste, where your trembling spouse and sire attend: +Haste; and a mother's care your passage shall befriend.' +She said, and swiftly vanish'd from my sight, +Obscure in clouds and gloomy shades of night. +I look'd, I listen'd; dreadful sounds I hear; +And the dire forms of hostile gods appear. +Troy sunk in flames I saw (nor could prevent), +And Ilium from its old foundations rent; +Rent like a mountain ash, which dar'd the winds, +And stood the sturdy strokes of lab'ring hinds. +About the roots the cruel ax resounds; +The stumps are pierc'd with oft-repeated wounds: +The war is felt on high; the nodding crown +Now threats a fall, and throws the leafy honors down. +To their united force it yields, tho' late, +And mourns with mortal groans th' approaching fate: +The roots no more their upper load sustain; +But down she falls, and spreads a ruin thro' the plain. + +"Descending thence, I scape thro' foes and fire: +Before the goddess, foes and flames retire. +Arriv'd at home, he, for whose only sake, +Or most for his, such toils I undertake, +The good Anchises, whom, by timely flight, +I purpos'd to secure on Ida's height, +Refus'd the journey, resolute to die +And add his fun'rals to the fate of Troy, +Rather than exile and old age sustain. +'Go you, whose blood runs warm in ev'ry vein. +Had Heav'n decreed that I should life enjoy, +Heav'n had decreed to save unhappy Troy. +'T is, sure, enough, if not too much, for one, +Twice to have seen our Ilium overthrown. +Make haste to save the poor remaining crew, +And give this useless corpse a long adieu. +These weak old hands suffice to stop my breath; +At least the pitying foes will aid my death, +To take my spoils, and leave my body bare: +As for my sepulcher, let Heav'n take care. +'T is long since I, for my celestial wife +Loath'd by the gods, have dragg'd a ling'ring life; +Since ev'ry hour and moment I expire, +Blasted from heav'n by Jove's avenging fire.' +This oft repeated, he stood fix'd to die: +Myself, my wife, my son, my family, +Intreat, pray, beg, and raise a doleful cry- +'What, will he still persist, on death resolve, +And in his ruin all his house involve!' +He still persists his reasons to maintain; +Our pray'rs, our tears, our loud laments, are vain. + +"Urg'd by despair, again I go to try +The fate of arms, resolv'd in fight to die: +'What hope remains, but what my death must give? +Can I, without so dear a father, live? +You term it prudence, what I baseness call: +Could such a word from such a parent fall? +If Fortune please, and so the gods ordain, +That nothing should of ruin'd Troy remain, +And you conspire with Fortune to be slain, +The way to death is wide, th' approaches near: +For soon relentless Pyrrhus will appear, +Reeking with Priam's blood- the wretch who slew +The son (inhuman) in the father's view, +And then the sire himself to the dire altar drew. +O goddess mother, give me back to Fate; +Your gift was undesir'd, and came too late! +Did you, for this, unhappy me convey +Thro' foes and fires, to see my house a prey? +Shall I my father, wife, and son behold, +Welt'ring in blood, each other's arms infold? +Haste! gird my sword, tho' spent and overcome: +'T is the last summons to receive our doom. +I hear thee, Fate; and I obey thy call! +Not unreveng'd the foe shall see my fall. +Restore me to the yet unfinish'd fight: +My death is wanting to conclude the night.' +Arm'd once again, my glitt'ring sword I wield, +While th' other hand sustains my weighty shield, +And forth I rush to seek th' abandon'd field. +I went; but sad Creusa stopp'd my way, +And cross the threshold in my passage lay, +Embrac'd my knees, and, when I would have gone, +Shew'd me my feeble sire and tender son: +'If death be your design, at least,' said she, +'Take us along to share your destiny. +If any farther hopes in arms remain, +This place, these pledges of your love, maintain. +To whom do you expose your father's life, +Your son's, and mine, your now forgotten wife!' +While thus she fills the house with clam'rous cries, +Our hearing is diverted by our eyes: +For, while I held my son, in the short space +Betwixt our kisses and our last embrace; +Strange to relate, from young Iulus' head +A lambent flame arose, which gently spread +Around his brows, and on his temples fed. +Amaz'd, with running water we prepare +To quench the sacred fire, and slake his hair; +But old Anchises, vers'd in omens, rear'd +His hands to heav'n, and this request preferr'd: +'If any vows, almighty Jove, can bend +Thy will; if piety can pray'rs commend, +Confirm the glad presage which thou art pleas'd to send.' +Scarce had he said, when, on our left, we hear +A peal of rattling thunder roll in air: +There shot a streaming lamp along the sky, +Which on the winged lightning seem'd to fly; +From o'er the roof the blaze began to move, +And, trailing, vanish'd in th' Idaean grove. +It swept a path in heav'n, and shone a guide, +Then in a steaming stench of sulphur died. + +"The good old man with suppliant hands implor'd +The gods' protection, and their star ador'd. +'Now, now,' said he, 'my son, no more delay! +I yield, I follow where Heav'n shews the way. +Keep, O my country gods, our dwelling place, +And guard this relic of the Trojan race, +This tender child! These omens are your own, +And you can yet restore the ruin'd town. +At least accomplish what your signs foreshow: +I stand resign'd, and am prepar'd to go.' + +"He said. The crackling flames appear on high. +And driving sparkles dance along the sky. +With Vulcan's rage the rising winds conspire, +And near our palace roll the flood of fire. +'Haste, my dear father, ('t is no time to wait,) +And load my shoulders with a willing freight. +Whate'er befalls, your life shall be my care; +One death, or one deliv'rance, we will share. +My hand shall lead our little son; and you, +My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue. +Next, you, my servants, heed my strict commands: +Without the walls a ruin'd temple stands, +To Ceres hallow'd once; a cypress nigh +Shoots up her venerable head on high, +By long religion kept; there bend your feet, +And in divided parties let us meet. +Our country gods, the relics, and the bands, +Hold you, my father, in your guiltless hands: +In me 't is impious holy things to bear, +Red as I am with slaughter, new from war, +Till in some living stream I cleanse the guilt +Of dire debate, and blood in battle spilt.' +Thus, ord'ring all that prudence could provide, +I clothe my shoulders with a lion's hide +And yellow spoils; then, on my bending back, +The welcome load of my dear father take; +While on my better hand Ascanius hung, +And with unequal paces tripp'd along. +Creusa kept behind; by choice we stray +Thro' ev'ry dark and ev'ry devious way. +I, who so bold and dauntless, just before, +The Grecian darts and shock of lances bore, +At ev'ry shadow now am seiz'd with fear, +Not for myself, but for the charge I bear; +Till, near the ruin'd gate arriv'd at last, +Secure, and deeming all the danger past, +A frightful noise of trampling feet we hear. +My father, looking thro' the shades, with fear, +Cried out: 'Haste, haste, my son, the foes are nigh; +Their swords and shining armor I descry.' +Some hostile god, for some unknown offense, +Had sure bereft my mind of better sense; +For, while thro' winding ways I took my flight, +And sought the shelter of the gloomy night, +Alas! I lost Creusa: hard to tell +If by her fatal destiny she fell, +Or weary sate, or wander'd with affright; +But she was lost for ever to my sight. +I knew not, or reflected, till I meet +My friends, at Ceres' now deserted seat. +We met: not one was wanting; only she +Deceiv'd her friends, her son, and wretched me. + +"What mad expressions did my tongue refuse! +Whom did I not, of gods or men, accuse! +This was the fatal blow, that pain'd me more +Than all I felt from ruin'd Troy before. +Stung with my loss, and raving with despair, +Abandoning my now forgotten care, +Of counsel, comfort, and of hope bereft, +My sire, my son, my country gods I left. +In shining armor once again I sheathe +My limbs, not feeling wounds, nor fearing death. +Then headlong to the burning walls I run, +And seek the danger I was forc'd to shun. +I tread my former tracks; thro' night explore +Each passage, ev'ry street I cross'd before. +All things were full of horror and affright, +And dreadful ev'n the silence of the night. +Then to my father's house I make repair, +With some small glimpse of hope to find her there. +Instead of her, the cruel Greeks I met; +The house was fill'd with foes, with flames beset. +Driv'n on the wings of winds, whole sheets of fire, +Thro' air transported, to the roofs aspire. +From thence to Priam's palace I resort, +And search the citadel and desart court. +Then, unobserv'd, I pass by Juno's church: +A guard of Grecians had possess'd the porch; +There Phoenix and Ulysses watch prey, +And thither all the wealth of Troy convey: +The spoils which they from ransack'd houses brought, +And golden bowls from burning altars caught, +The tables of the gods, the purple vests, +The people's treasure, and the pomp of priests. +A rank of wretched youths, with pinion'd hands, +And captive matrons, in long order stands. +Then, with ungovern'd madness, I proclaim, +Thro' all the silent street, Creusa's name: +Creusa still I call; at length she hears, +And sudden thro' the shades of night appears- +Appears, no more Creusa, nor my wife, +But a pale specter, larger than the life. +Aghast, astonish'd, and struck dumb with fear, +I stood; like bristles rose my stiffen'd hair. +Then thus the ghost began to soothe my grief +'Nor tears, nor cries, can give the dead relief. +Desist, my much-lov'd lord,'t indulge your pain; +You bear no more than what the gods ordain. +My fates permit me not from hence to fly; +Nor he, the great controller of the sky. +Long wand'ring ways for you the pow'rs decree; +On land hard labors, and a length of sea. +Then, after many painful years are past, +On Latium's happy shore you shall be cast, +Where gentle Tiber from his bed beholds +The flow'ry meadows, and the feeding folds. +There end your toils; and there your fates provide +A quiet kingdom, and a royal bride: +There fortune shall the Trojan line restore, +And you for lost Creusa weep no more. +Fear not that I shall watch, with servile shame, +Th' imperious looks of some proud Grecian dame; +Or, stooping to the victor's lust, disgrace +My goddess mother, or my royal race. +And now, farewell! The parent of the gods +Restrains my fleeting soul in her abodes: +I trust our common issue to your care.' +She said, and gliding pass'd unseen in air. +I strove to speak: but horror tied my tongue; +And thrice about her neck my arms I flung, +And, thrice deceiv'd, on vain embraces hung. +Light as an empty dream at break of day, +Or as a blast of wind, she rush'd away. + +"Thus having pass'd the night in fruitless pain, +I to my longing friends return again, +Amaz'd th' augmented number to behold, +Of men and matrons mix'd, of young and old; +A wretched exil'd crew together brought, +With arms appointed, and with treasure fraught, +Resolv'd, and willing, under my command, +To run all hazards both of sea and land. +The Morn began, from Ida, to display +Her rosy cheeks; and Phosphor led the day: +Before the gates the Grecians took their post, +And all pretense of late relief was lost. +I yield to Fate, unwillingly retire, +And, loaded, up the hill convey my sire." +BOOK III + +"When Heav'n had overturn'd the Trojan state +And Priam's throne, by too severe a fate; +When ruin'd Troy became the Grecians' prey, +And Ilium's lofty tow'rs in ashes lay; +Warn'd by celestial omens, we retreat, +To seek in foreign lands a happier seat. +Near old Antandros, and at Ida's foot, +The timber of the sacred groves we cut, +And build our fleet; uncertain yet to find +What place the gods for our repose assign'd. +Friends daily flock; and scarce the kindly spring +Began to clothe the ground, and birds to sing, +When old Anchises summon'd all to sea: +The crew my father and the Fates obey. +With sighs and tears I leave my native shore, +And empty fields, where Ilium stood before. +My sire, my son, our less and greater gods, +All sail at once, and cleave the briny floods. + +"Against our coast appears a spacious land, +Which once the fierce Lycurgus did command, +(Thracia the name- the people bold in war; +Vast are their fields, and tillage is their care,) +A hospitable realm while Fate was kind, +With Troy in friendship and religion join'd. +I land; with luckless omens then adore +Their gods, and draw a line along the shore; +I lay the deep foundations of a wall, +And Aenos, nam'd from me, the city call. +To Dionaean Venus vows are paid, +And all the pow'rs that rising labors aid; +A bull on Jove's imperial altar laid. +Not far, a rising hillock stood in view; +Sharp myrtles on the sides, and cornels grew. +There, while I went to crop the sylvan scenes, +And shade our altar with their leafy greens, +I pull'd a plant- with horror I relate +A prodigy so strange and full of fate. +The rooted fibers rose, and from the wound +Black bloody drops distill'd upon the ground. +Mute and amaz'd, my hair with terror stood; +Fear shrunk my sinews, and congeal'd my blood. +Mann'd once again, another plant I try: +That other gush'd with the same sanguine dye. +Then, fearing guilt for some offense unknown, +With pray'rs and vows the Dryads I atone, +With all the sisters of the woods, and most +The God of Arms, who rules the Thracian coast, +That they, or he, these omens would avert, +Release our fears, and better signs impart. +Clear'd, as I thought, and fully fix'd at length +To learn the cause, I tugged with all my strength: +I bent my knees against the ground; once more +The violated myrtle ran with gore. +Scarce dare I tell the sequel: from the womb +Of wounded earth, and caverns of the tomb, +A groan, as of a troubled ghost, renew'd +My fright, and then these dreadful words ensued: +'Why dost thou thus my buried body rend? +O spare the corpse of thy unhappy friend! +Spare to pollute thy pious hands with blood: +The tears distil not from the wounded wood; +But ev'ry drop this living tree contains +Is kindred blood, and ran in Trojan veins. +O fly from this unhospitable shore, +Warn'd by my fate; for I am Polydore! +Here loads of lances, in my blood embrued, +Again shoot upward, by my blood renew'd.' + +"My falt'ring tongue and shiv'ring limbs declare +My horror, and in bristles rose my hair. +When Troy with Grecian arms was closely pent, +Old Priam, fearful of the war's event, +This hapless Polydore to Thracia sent: +Loaded with gold, he sent his darling, far +From noise and tumults, and destructive war, +Committed to the faithless tyrant's care; +Who, when he saw the pow'r of Troy decline, +Forsook the weaker, with the strong to join; +Broke ev'ry bond of nature and of truth, +And murder'd, for his wealth, the royal youth. +O sacred hunger of pernicious gold! +What bands of faith can impious lucre hold? +Now, when my soul had shaken off her fears, +I call my father and the Trojan peers; +Relate the prodigies of Heav'n, require +What he commands, and their advice desire. +All vote to leave that execrable shore, +Polluted with the blood of Polydore; +But, ere we sail, his fun'ral rites prepare, +Then, to his ghost, a tomb and altars rear. +In mournful pomp the matrons walk the round, +With baleful cypress and blue fillets crown'd, +With eyes dejected, and with hair unbound. +Then bowls of tepid milk and blood we pour, +And thrice invoke the soul of Polydore. + +"Now, when the raging storms no longer reign, +But southern gales invite us to the main, +We launch our vessels, with a prosp'rous wind, +And leave the cities and the shores behind. + +"An island in th' Aegaean main appears; +Neptune and wat'ry Doris claim it theirs. +It floated once, till Phoebus fix'd the sides +To rooted earth, and now it braves the tides. +Here, borne by friendly winds, we come ashore, +With needful ease our weary limbs restore, +And the Sun's temple and his town adore. + +"Anius, the priest and king, with laurel crown'd, +His hoary locks with purple fillets bound, +Who saw my sire the Delian shore ascend, +Came forth with eager haste to meet his friend; +Invites him to his palace; and, in sign +Of ancient love, their plighted hands they join. +Then to the temple of the god I went, +And thus, before the shrine, my vows present: +'Give, O Thymbraeus, give a resting place +To the sad relics of the Trojan race; +A seat secure, a region of their own, +A lasting empire, and a happier town. +Where shall we fix? where shall our labors end? +Whom shall we follow, and what fate attend? +Let not my pray'rs a doubtful answer find; +But in clear auguries unveil thy mind.' +Scarce had I said: he shook the holy ground, +The laurels, and the lofty hills around; +And from the tripos rush'd a bellowing sound. +Prostrate we fell; confess'd the present god, +Who gave this answer from his dark abode: +'Undaunted youths, go, seek that mother earth +From which your ancestors derive their birth. +The soil that sent you forth, her ancient race +In her old bosom shall again embrace. +Thro' the wide world th' Aeneian house shall reign, +And children's children shall the crown sustain.' +Thus Phoebus did our future fates disclose: +A mighty tumult, mix'd with joy, arose. + +"All are concern'd to know what place the god +Assign'd, and where determin'd our abode. +My father, long revolving in his mind +The race and lineage of the Trojan kind, +Thus answer'd their demands: 'Ye princes, hear +Your pleasing fortune, and dispel your fear. +The fruitful isle of Crete, well known to fame, +Sacred of old to Jove's imperial name, +In the mid ocean lies, with large command, +And on its plains a hundred cities stand. +Another Ida rises there, and we +From thence derive our Trojan ancestry. +From thence, as 't is divulg'd by certain fame, +To the Rhoetean shores old Teucrus came; +There fix'd, and there the seat of empire chose, +Ere Ilium and the Trojan tow'rs arose. +In humble vales they built their soft abodes, +Till Cybele, the mother of the gods, +With tinkling cymbals charm'd th' Idaean woods, +She secret rites and ceremonies taught, +And to the yoke the savage lions brought. +Let us the land which Heav'n appoints, explore; +Appease the winds, and seek the Gnossian shore. +If Jove assists the passage of our fleet, +The third propitious dawn discovers Crete.' +Thus having said, the sacrifices, laid +On smoking altars, to the gods he paid: +A bull, to Neptune an oblation due, +Another bull to bright Apollo slew; +A milk-white ewe, the western winds to please, +And one coal-black, to calm the stormy seas. +Ere this, a flying rumor had been spread +That fierce Idomeneus from Crete was fled, +Expell'd and exil'd; that the coast was free +From foreign or domestic enemy. + +"We leave the Delian ports, and put to sea; +By Naxos, fam'd for vintage, make our way; +Then green Donysa pass; and sail in sight +Of Paros' isle, with marble quarries white. +We pass the scatter'd isles of Cyclades, +That, scarce distinguish'd, seem to stud the seas. +The shouts of sailors double near the shores; +They stretch their canvas, and they ply their oars. +'All hands aloft! for Crete! for Crete!' they cry, +And swiftly thro' the foamy billows fly. +Full on the promis'd land at length we bore, +With joy descending on the Cretan shore. +With eager haste a rising town I frame, +Which from the Trojan Pergamus I name: +The name itself was grateful; I exhort +To found their houses, and erect a fort. +Our ships are haul'd upon the yellow strand; +The youth begin to till the labor'd land; +And I myself new marriages promote, +Give laws, and dwellings I divide by lot; +When rising vapors choke the wholesome air, +And blasts of noisome winds corrupt the year; +The trees devouring caterpillars burn; +Parch'd was the grass, and blighted was the corn: +Nor 'scape the beasts; for Sirius, from on high, +With pestilential heat infects the sky: +My men- some fall, the rest in fevers fry. +Again my father bids me seek the shore +Of sacred Delos, and the god implore, +To learn what end of woes we might expect, +And to what clime our weary course direct. + +"'T was night, when ev'ry creature, void of cares, +The common gift of balmy slumber shares: +The statues of my gods (for such they seem'd), +Those gods whom I from flaming Troy redeem'd, +Before me stood, majestically bright, +Full in the beams of Phoebe's ent'ring light. +Then thus they spoke, and eas'd my troubled mind: +'What from the Delian god thou go'st to find, +He tells thee here, and sends us to relate. +Those pow'rs are we, companions of thy fate, +Who from the burning town by thee were brought, +Thy fortune follow'd, and thy safety wrought. +Thro' seas and lands as we thy steps attend, +So shall our care thy glorious race befriend. +An ample realm for thee thy fates ordain, +A town that o'er the conquer'd world shall reign. +Thou, mighty walls for mighty nations build; +Nor let thy weary mind to labors yield: +But change thy seat; for not the Delian god, +Nor we, have giv'n thee Crete for our abode. +A land there is, Hesperia call'd of old, +(The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold- +Th' Oenotrians held it once,) by later fame +Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name. +lasius there and Dardanus were born; +From thence we came, and thither must return. +Rise, and thy sire with these glad tidings greet. +Search Italy; for Jove denies thee Crete.' + +"Astonish'd at their voices and their sight, +(Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night; +I saw, I knew their faces, and descried, +In perfect view, their hair with fillets tied;) +I started from my couch; a clammy sweat +On all my limbs and shiv'ring body sate. +To heav'n I lift my hands with pious haste, +And sacred incense in the flames I cast. +Thus to the gods their perfect honors done, +More cheerful, to my good old sire I run, +And tell the pleasing news. In little space +He found his error of the double race; +Not, as before he deem'd, deriv'd from Crete; +No more deluded by the doubtful seat: +Then said: 'O son, turmoil'd in Trojan fate! +Such things as these Cassandra did relate. +This day revives within my mind what she +Foretold of Troy renew'd in Italy, +And Latian lands; but who could then have thought +That Phrygian gods to Latium should be brought, +Or who believ'd what mad Cassandra taught? +Now let us go where Phoebus leads the way.' + +"He said; and we with glad consent obey, +Forsake the seat, and, leaving few behind, +We spread our sails before the willing wind. +Now from the sight of land our galleys move, +With only seas around and skies above; +When o'er our heads descends a burst of rain, +And night with sable clouds involves the main; +The ruffling winds the foamy billows raise; +The scatter'd fleet is forc'd to sev'ral ways; +The face of heav'n is ravish'd from our eyes, +And in redoubled peals the roaring thunder flies. +Cast from our course, we wander in the dark. +No stars to guide, no point of land to mark. +Ev'n Palinurus no distinction found +Betwixt the night and day; such darkness reign'd around. +Three starless nights the doubtful navy strays, +Without distinction, and three sunless days; +The fourth renews the light, and, from our shrouds, +We view a rising land, like distant clouds; +The mountain-tops confirm the pleasing sight, +And curling smoke ascending from their height. +The canvas falls; their oars the sailors ply; +From the rude strokes the whirling waters fly. +At length I land upon the Strophades, +Safe from the danger of the stormy seas. +Those isles are compass'd by th' Ionian main, +The dire abode where the foul Harpies reign, +Forc'd by the winged warriors to repair +To their old homes, and leave their costly fare. +Monsters more fierce offended Heav'n ne'er sent +From hell's abyss, for human punishment: +With virgin faces, but with wombs obscene, +Foul paunches, and with ordure still unclean; +With claws for hands, and looks for ever lean. + +"We landed at the port, and soon beheld +Fat herds of oxen graze the flow'ry field, +And wanton goats without a keeper stray'd. +With weapons we the welcome prey invade, +Then call the gods for partners of our feast, +And Jove himself, the chief invited guest. +We spread the tables on the greensward ground; +We feed with hunger, and the bowls go round; +When from the mountain-tops, with hideous cry, +And clatt'ring wings, the hungry Harpies fly; +They snatch the meat, defiling all they find, +And, parting, leave a loathsome stench behind. +Close by a hollow rock, again we sit, +New dress the dinner, and the beds refit, +Secure from sight, beneath a pleasing shade, +Where tufted trees a native arbor made. +Again the holy fires on altars burn; +And once again the rav'nous birds return, +Or from the dark recesses where they lie, +Or from another quarter of the sky; +With filthy claws their odious meal repeat, +And mix their loathsome ordures with their meat. +I bid my friends for vengeance then prepare, +And with the hellish nation wage the war. +They, as commanded, for the fight provide, +And in the grass their glitt'ring weapons hide; +Then, when along the crooked shore we hear +Their clatt'ring wings, and saw the foes appear, +Misenus sounds a charge: we take th' alarm, +And our strong hands with swords and bucklers arm. +In this new kind of combat all employ +Their utmost force, the monsters to destroy. +In vain- the fated skin is proof to wounds; +And from their plumes the shining sword rebounds. +At length rebuff'd, they leave their mangled prey, +And their stretch'd pinions to the skies display. +Yet one remain'd- the messenger of Fate: +High on a craggy cliff Celaeno sate, +And thus her dismal errand did relate: +'What! not contented with our oxen slain, +Dare you with Heav'n an impious war maintain, +And drive the Harpies from their native reign? +Heed therefore what I say; and keep in mind +What Jove decrees, what Phoebus has design'd, +And I, the Furies' queen, from both relate- +You seek th' Italian shores, foredoom'd by fate: +Th' Italian shores are granted you to find, +And a safe passage to the port assign'd. +But know, that ere your promis'd walls you build, +My curses shall severely be fulfill'd. +Fierce famine is your lot for this misdeed, +Reduc'd to grind the plates on which you feed.' +She said, and to the neighb'ring forest flew. +Our courage fails us, and our fears renew. +Hopeless to win by war, to pray'rs we fall, +And on th' offended Harpies humbly call, +And whether gods or birds obscene they were, +Our vows for pardon and for peace prefer. +But old Anchises, off'ring sacrifice, +And lifting up to heav'n his hands and eyes, +Ador'd the greater gods: 'Avert,' said he, +'These omens; render vain this prophecy, +And from th' impending curse a pious people free!' + +"Thus having said, he bids us put to sea; +We loose from shore our haulsers, and obey, +And soon with swelling sails pursue the wat'ry way. +Amidst our course, Zacynthian woods appear; +And next by rocky Neritos we steer: +We fly from Ithaca's detested shore, +And curse the land which dire Ulysses bore. +At length Leucate's cloudy top appears, +And the Sun's temple, which the sailor fears. +Resolv'd to breathe a while from labor past, +Our crooked anchors from the prow we cast, +And joyful to the little city haste. +Here, safe beyond our hopes, our vows we pay +To Jove, the guide and patron of our way. +The customs of our country we pursue, +And Trojan games on Actian shores renew. +Our youth their naked limbs besmear with oil, +And exercise the wrastlers' noble toil; +Pleas'd to have sail'd so long before the wind, +And left so many Grecian towns behind. +The sun had now fulfill'd his annual course, +And Boreas on the seas display'd his force: +I fix'd upon the temple's lofty door +The brazen shield which vanquish'd Abas bore; +The verse beneath my name and action speaks: +'These arms Aeneas took from conqu'ring Greeks.' +Then I command to weigh; the seamen ply +Their sweeping oars; the smoking billows fly. +The sight of high Phaeacia soon we lost, +And skimm'd along Epirus' rocky coast. + +"Then to Chaonia's port our course we bend, +And, landed, to Buthrotus' heights ascend. +Here wondrous things were loudly blaz'd fame: +How Helenus reviv'd the Trojan name, +And reign'd in Greece; that Priam's captive son +Succeeded Pyrrhus in his bed and throne; +And fair Andromache, restor'd by fate, +Once more was happy in a Trojan mate. +I leave my galleys riding in the port, +And long to see the new Dardanian court. +By chance, the mournful queen, before the gate, +Then solemniz'd her former husband's fate. +Green altars, rais'd of turf, with gifts she crown'd, +And sacred priests in order stand around, +And thrice the name of hapless Hector sound. +The grove itself resembles Ida's wood; +And Simois seem'd the well-dissembled flood. +But when at nearer distance she beheld +My shining armor and my Trojan shield, +Astonish'd at the sight, the vital heat +Forsakes her limbs; her veins no longer beat: +She faints, she falls, and scarce recov'ring strength, +Thus, with a falt'ring tongue, she speaks at length: + +"'Are you alive, O goddess-born ?' she said, +'Or if a ghost, then where is Hector's shade?' +At this, she cast a loud and frightful cry. +With broken words I made this brief reply: +'All of me that remains appears in sight; +I live, if living be to loathe the light. +No phantom; but I drag a wretched life, +My fate resembling that of Hector's wife. +What have you suffer'd since you lost your lord? +By what strange blessing are you now restor'd? +Still are you Hector's? or is Hector fled, +And his remembrance lost in Pyrrhus' bed?' +With eyes dejected, in a lowly tone, +After a modest pause she thus begun: + +"'O only happy maid of Priam's race, +Whom death deliver'd from the foes' embrace! +Commanded on Achilles' tomb to die, +Not forc'd, like us, to hard captivity, +Or in a haughty master's arms to lie. +In Grecian ships unhappy we were borne, +Endur'd the victor's lust, sustain'd the scorn: +Thus I submitted to the lawless pride +Of Pyrrhus, more a handmaid than a bride. +Cloy'd with possession, he forsook my bed, +And Helen's lovely daughter sought to wed; +Then me to Trojan Helenus resign'd, +And his two slaves in equal marriage join'd; +Till young Orestes, pierc'd with deep despair, +And longing to redeem the promis'd fair, +Before Apollo's altar slew the ravisher. +By Pyrrhus' death the kingdom we regain'd: +At least one half with Helenus remain'd. +Our part, from Chaon, he Chaonia calls, +And names from Pergamus his rising walls. +But you, what fates have landed on our coast? +What gods have sent you, or what storms have toss'd? +Does young Ascanius life and health enjoy, +Sav'd from the ruins of unhappy Troy? +O tell me how his mother's loss he bears, +What hopes are promis'd from his blooming years, +How much of Hector in his face appears?' +She spoke; and mix'd her speech with mournful cries, +And fruitless tears came trickling from her eyes. + +"At length her lord descends upon the plain, +In pomp, attended with a num'rous train; +Receives his friends, and to the city leads, +And tears of joy amidst his welcome sheds. +Proceeding on, another Troy I see, +Or, in less compass, Troy's epitome. +A riv'let by the name of Xanthus ran, +And I embrace the Scaean gate again. +My friends in porticoes were entertain'd, +And feasts and pleasures thro' the city reign'd. +The tables fill'd the spacious hall around, +And golden bowls with sparkling wine were crown'd. +Two days we pass'd in mirth, till friendly gales, +Blown from the supplied our swelling sails. +Then to the royal seer I thus began: +'O thou, who know'st, beyond the reach of man, +The laws of heav'n, and what the stars decree; +Whom Phoebus taught unerring prophecy, +From his own tripod, and his holy tree; +Skill'd in the wing'd inhabitants of air, +What auspices their notes and flights declare: +O say- for all religious rites portend +A happy voyage, and a prosp'rous end; +And ev'ry power and omen of the sky +Direct my course for destin'd Italy; +But only dire Celaeno, from the gods, +A dismal famine fatally forebodes- +O say what dangers I am first to shun, +What toils vanquish, and what course to run.' + +"The prophet first with sacrifice adores +The greater gods; their pardon then implores; +Unbinds the fillet from his holy head; +To Phoebus, next, my trembling steps he led, +Full of religious doubts and awful dread. +Then, with his god possess'd, before the shrine, +These words proceeded from his mouth divine: +'O goddess-born, (for Heav'n's appointed will, +With greater auspices of good than ill, +Foreshows thy voyage, and thy course directs; +Thy fates conspire, and Jove himself protects,) +Of many things some few I shall explain, +Teach thee to shun the dangers of the main, +And how at length the promis'd shore to gain. +The rest the fates from Helenus conceal, +And Juno's angry pow'r forbids to tell. +First, then, that happy shore, that seems so nigh, +Will far from your deluded wishes fly; +Long tracts of seas divide your hopes from Italy: +For you must cruise along Sicilian shores, +And stem the currents with your struggling oars; +Then round th' Italian coast your navy steer; +And, after this, to Circe's island veer; +And, last, before your new foundations rise, +Must pass the Stygian lake, and view the nether skies. +Now mark the signs of future ease and rest, +And bear them safely treasur'd in thy breast. +When, in the shady shelter of a wood, +And near the margin of a gentle flood, +Thou shalt behold a sow upon the ground, +With thirty sucking young encompass'd round; +The dam and offspring white as falling snow- +These on thy city shall their name bestow, +And there shall end thy labors and thy woe. +Nor let the threaten'd famine fright thy mind, +For Phoebus will assist, and Fate the way will find. +Let not thy course to that ill coast be bent, +Which fronts from far th' Epirian continent: +Those parts are all by Grecian foes possess'd; +The salvage Locrians here the shores infest; +There fierce Idomeneus his city builds, +And guards with arms the Salentinian fields; +And on the mountain's brow Petilia stands, +Which Philoctetes with his troops commands. +Ev'n when thy fleet is landed on the shore, +And priests with holy vows the gods adore, +Then with a purple veil involve your eyes, +Lest hostile faces blast the sacrifice. +These rites and customs to the rest commend, +That to your pious race they may descend. + + "'When, parted hence, the wind, that ready waits +For Sicily, shall bear you to the straits +Where proud Pelorus opes a wider way, +Tack to the larboard, and stand off to sea: +Veer starboard sea and land. Th' Italian shore +And fair Sicilia's coast were one, before +An earthquake caus'd the flaw: the roaring tides +The passage broke that land from land divides; +And where the lands retir'd, the rushing ocean rides. +Distinguish'd by the straits, on either hand, +Now rising cities in long order stand, +And fruitful fields: so much can time invade +The mold'ring work that beauteous Nature made. +Far on the right, her dogs foul Scylla hides: +Charybdis roaring on the left presides, +And in her greedy whirlpool sucks the tides; +Then spouts them from below: with fury driv'n, +The waves mount up and wash the face of heav'n. +But Scylla from her den, with open jaws, +The sinking vessel in her eddy draws, +Then dashes on the rocks. A human face, +And virgin bosom, hides her tail's disgrace: +Her parts obscene below the waves descend, +With dogs inclos'd, and in a dolphin end. +'T is safer, then, to bear aloof to sea, +And coast Pachynus, tho' with more delay, +Than once to view misshapen Scylla near, +And the loud yell of wat'ry wolves to hear. + +"'Besides, if faith to Helenus be due, +And if prophetic Phoebus tell me true, +Do not this precept of your friend forget, +Which therefore more than once I must repeat: +Above the rest, great Juno's name adore; +Pay vows to Juno; Juno's aid implore. +Let gifts be to the mighty queen design'd, +And mollify with pray'rs her haughty mind. +Thus, at the length, your passage shall be free, +And you shall safe descend on Italy. +Arriv'd at Cumae, when you view the flood +Of black Avernus, and the sounding wood, +The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find, +Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclin'd. +She sings the fates, and, in her frantic fits, +The notes and names, inscrib'd, to leafs commits. +What she commits to leafs, in order laid, +Before the cavern's entrance are display'd: +Unmov'd they lie; but, if a blast of wind +Without, or vapors issue from behind, +The leafs are borne aloft in liquid air, +And she resumes no more her museful care, +Nor gathers from the rocks her scatter'd verse, +Nor sets in order what the winds disperse. +Thus, many not succeeding, most upbraid +The madness of the visionary maid, +And with loud curses leave the mystic shade. + +"'Think it not loss of time a while to stay, +Tho' thy companions chide thy long delay; +Tho' summon'd to the seas, tho' pleasing gales +Invite thy course, and stretch thy swelling sails: +But beg the sacred priestess to relate +With willing words, and not to write thy fate. +The fierce Italian people she will show, +And all thy wars, and all thy future woe, +And what thou may'st avoid, and what must undergo. +She shall direct thy course, instruct thy mind, +And teach thee how the happy shores to find. +This is what Heav'n allows me to relate: +Now part in peace; pursue thy better fate, +And raise, by strength of arms, the Trojan state.' + +"This when the priest with friendly voice declar'd, +He gave me license, and rich gifts prepar'd: +Bounteous of treasure, he supplied my want +With heavy gold, and polish'd elephant; +Then Dodonaean caldrons put on board, +And ev'ry ship with sums of silver stor'd. +A trusty coat of mail to me he sent, +Thrice chain'd with gold, for use and ornament; +The helm of Pyrrhus added to the rest, +That flourish'd with a plume and waving crest. +Nor was my sire forgotten, nor my friends; +And large recruits he to my navy sends: +Men, horses, captains, arms, and warlike stores; +Supplies new pilots, and new sweeping oars. +Meantime, my sire commands to hoist our sails, +Lest we should lose the first auspicious gales. + +"The prophet bless'd the parting crew, and last, +With words like these, his ancient friend embrac'd: +'Old happy man, the care of gods above, +Whom heav'nly Venus honor'd with her love, +And twice preserv'd thy life, when Troy was lost, +Behold from far the wish'd Ausonian coast: +There land; but take a larger compass round, +For that before is all forbidden ground. +The shore that Phoebus has design'd for you, +At farther distance lies, conceal'd from view. +Go happy hence, and seek your new abodes, +Blest in a son, and favor'd by the gods: +For I with useless words prolong your stay, +When southern gales have summon'd you away.' + +"Nor less the queen our parting thence deplor'd, +Nor was less bounteous than her Trojan lord. +A noble present to my son she brought, +A robe with flow'rs on golden tissue wrought, +A phrygian vest; and loads with gifts beside +Of precious texture, and of Asian pride. +'Accept,' she said, 'these monuments of love, +Which in my youth with happier hands I wove: +Regard these trifles for the giver's sake; +'T is the last present Hector's wife can make. +Thou call'st my lost Astyanax to mind; +In thee his features and his form I find: +His eyes so sparkled with a lively flame; +Such were his motions; such was all his frame; +And ah! had Heav'n so pleas'd, his years had been the same.' + +"With tears I took my last adieu, and said: +'Your fortune, happy pair, already made, +Leaves you no farther wish. My diff'rent state, +Avoiding one, incurs another fate. +To you a quiet seat the gods allow: +You have no shores to search, no seas to plow, +Nor fields of flying Italy to chase: +(Deluding visions, and a vain embrace!) +You see another Simois, and enjoy +The labor of your hands, another Troy, +With better auspice than her ancient tow'rs, +And less obnoxious to the Grecian pow'rs. +If e'er the gods, whom I with vows adore, +Conduct my steps to Tiber's happy shore; +If ever I ascend the Latian throne, +And build a city I may call my own; +As both of us our birth from Troy derive, +So let our kindred lines in concord live, +And both in acts of equal friendship strive. +Our fortunes, good or bad, shall be the same: +The double Troy shall differ but in name; +That what we now begin may never end, +But long to late posterity descend.' + +"Near the Ceraunian rocks our course we bore; +The shortest passage to th' Italian shore. +Now had the sun withdrawn his radiant light, +And hills were hid in dusky shades of night: +We land, and, on the bosom Of the ground, +A safe retreat and a bare lodging found. +Close by the shore we lay; the sailors keep +Their watches, and the rest securely sleep. +The night, proceeding on with silent pace, +Stood in her noon, and view'd with equal face +Her steepy rise and her declining race. +Then wakeful Palinurus rose, to spy +The face of heav'n, and the nocturnal sky; +And listen'd ev'ry breath of air to try; +Observes the stars, and notes their sliding course, +The Pleiads, Hyads, and their wat'ry force; +And both the Bears is careful to behold, +And bright Orion, arm'd with burnish'd gold. +Then, when he saw no threat'ning tempest nigh, +But a sure promise of a settled sky, +He gave the sign to weigh; we break our sleep, +Forsake the pleasing shore, and plow the deep. + +"And now the rising morn with rosy light +Adorns the skies, and puts the stars to flight; +When we from far, like bluish mists, descry +The hills, and then the plains, of Italy. +Achates first pronounc'd the joyful sound; +Then, 'Italy!' the cheerful crew rebound. +My sire Anchises crown'd a cup with wine, +And, off'ring, thus implor'd the pow'rs divine: +'Ye gods, presiding over lands and seas, +And you who raging winds and waves appease, +Breathe on our swelling sails a prosp'rous wind, +And smooth our passage to the port assign'd!' +The gentle gales their flagging force renew, +And now the happy harbor is in view. +Minerva's temple then salutes our sight, +Plac'd, as a landmark, on the mountain's height. +We furl our sails, and turn the prows to shore; +The curling waters round the galleys roar. +The land lies open to the raging east, +Then, bending like a bow, with rocks compress'd, +Shuts out the storms; the winds and waves complain, +And vent their malice on the cliffs in vain. +The port lies hid within; on either side +Two tow'ring rocks the narrow mouth divide. +The temple, which aloft we view'd before, +To distance flies, and seems to shun the shore. +Scarce landed, the first omens I beheld +Were four white steeds that cropp'd the flow'ry field. +'War, war is threaten'd from this foreign ground,' +My father cried, 'where warlike steeds are found. +Yet, since reclaim'd to chariots they submit, +And bend to stubborn yokes, and champ the bit, +Peace may succeed to war.' Our way we bend +To Pallas, and the sacred hill ascend; +There prostrate to the fierce virago pray, +Whose temple was the landmark of our way. +Each with a Phrygian mantle veil'd his head, +And all commands of Helenus obey'd, +And pious rites to Grecian Juno paid. +These dues perform'd, we stretch our sails, and stand +To sea, forsaking that suspected land. + +"From hence Tarentum's bay appears in view, +For Hercules renown'd, if fame be true. +Just opposite, Lacinian Juno stands; +Caulonian tow'rs, and Scylacaean strands, +For shipwrecks fear'd. Mount Aetna thence we spy, +Known by the smoky flames which cloud the sky. +Far off we hear the waves with surly sound +Invade the rocks, the rocks their groans rebound. +The billows break upon the sounding strand, +And roll the rising tide, impure with sand. +Then thus Anchises, in experience old: +''T is that Charybdis which the seer foretold, +And those the promis'd rocks! Bear off to sea!' +With haste the frighted mariners obey. +First Palinurus to the larboard veer'd; +Then all the fleet by his example steer'd. +To heav'n aloft on ridgy waves we ride, +Then down to hell descend, when they divide; +And thrice our galleys knock'd the stony ground, +And thrice the hollow rocks return'd the sound, +And thrice we saw the stars, that stood with dews around. +The flagging winds forsook us, with the sun; +And, wearied, on Cyclopian shores we run. +The port capacious, and secure from wind, +Is to the foot of thund'ring Aetna join'd. +By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high; +By turns hot embers from her entrails fly, +And flakes of mounting flames, that lick the sky. +Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown, +And, shiver'd by the force, come piecemeal down. +Oft liquid lakes of burning sulphur flow, +Fed from the fiery springs that boil below. +Enceladus, they say, transfix'd by Jove, +With blasted limbs came tumbling from above; +And, where he fell, th' avenging father drew +This flaming hill, and on his body threw. +As often as he turns his weary sides, +He shakes the solid isle, and smoke the heavens hides. +In shady woods we pass the tedious night, +Where bellowing sounds and groans our souls affright, +Of which no cause is offer'd to the sight; +For not one star was kindled in the sky, +Nor could the moon her borrow'd light supply; +For misty clouds involv'd the firmament, +The stars were muffled, and the moon was pent. + +"Scarce had the rising sun the day reveal'd, +Scarce had his heat the pearly dews dispell'd, +When from the woods there bolts, before our sight, +Somewhat betwixt a mortal and a sprite, +So thin, so ghastly meager, and so wan, +So bare of flesh, he scarce resembled man. +This thing, all tatter'd, seem'd from far t' implore +Our pious aid, and pointed to the shore. +We look behind, then view his shaggy beard; +His clothes were tagg'd with thorns, and filth his limbs +besmear'd; +The rest, in mien, in habit, and in face, +Appear'd a Greek, and such indeed he was. +He cast on us, from far, a frightful view, +Whom soon for Trojans and for foes he knew; +Stood still, and paus'd; then all at once began +To stretch his limbs, and trembled as he ran. +Soon as approach'd, upon his knees he falls, +And thus with tears and sighs for pity calls: +'Now, by the pow'rs above, and what we share +From Nature's common gift, this vital air, +O Trojans, take me hence! I beg no more; +But bear me far from this unhappy shore. +'T is true, I am a Greek, and farther own, +Among your foes besieg'd th' imperial town. +For such demerits if my death be due, +No more for this abandon'd life I sue; +This only favor let my tears obtain, +To throw me headlong in the rapid main: +Since nothing more than death my crime demands, +I die content, to die by human hands.' +He said, and on his knees my knees embrac'd: +I bade him boldly tell his fortune past, +His present state, his lineage, and his name, +Th' occasion of his fears, and whence he came. +The good Anchises rais'd him with his hand; +Who, thus encourag'd, answer'd our demand: +'From Ithaca, my native soil, I came +To Troy; and Achaemenides my name. +Me my poor father with Ulysses sent; +(O had I stay'd, with poverty content!) +But, fearful for themselves, my countrymen +Left me forsaken in the Cyclops' den. +The cave, tho' large, was dark; the dismal floor +Was pav'd with mangled limbs and putrid gore. +Our monstrous host, of more than human size, +Erects his head, and stares within the skies; +Bellowing his voice, and horrid is his hue. +Ye gods, remove this plague from mortal view! +The joints of slaughter'd wretches are his food; +And for his wine he quaffs the streaming blood. +These eyes beheld, when with his spacious hand +He seiz'd two captives of our Grecian band; +Stretch'd on his back, he dash'd against the stones +Their broken bodies, and their crackling bones: +With spouting blood the purple pavement swims, +While the dire glutton grinds the trembling limbs. + +"'Not unreveng'd Ulysses bore their fate, +Nor thoughtless of his own unhappy state; +For, gorg'd with flesh, and drunk with human wine +While fast asleep the giant lay supine, +Snoring aloud, and belching from his maw +His indigested foam, and morsels raw; +We pray; we cast the lots, and then surround +The monstrous body, stretch'd along the ground: +Each, as he could approach him, lends a hand +To bore his eyeball with a flaming brand. +Beneath his frowning forehead lay his eye; +For only one did the vast frame supply- +But that a globe so large, his front it fill'd, +Like the sun's disk or like a Grecian shield. +The stroke succeeds; and down the pupil bends: +This vengeance follow'd for our slaughter'd friends. +But haste, unhappy wretches, haste to fly! +Your cables cut, and on your oars rely! +Such, and so vast as Polypheme appears, +A hundred more this hated island bears: +Like him, in caves they shut their woolly sheep; +Like him, their herds on tops of mountains keep; +Like him, with mighty strides, they stalk from steep to steep +And now three moons their sharpen'd horns renew, +Since thus, in woods and wilds, obscure from view, +I drag my loathsome days with mortal fright, +And in deserted caverns lodge by night; +Oft from the rocks a dreadful prospect see +Of the huge Cyclops, like a walking tree: +From far I hear his thund'ring voice resound, +And trampling feet that shake the solid ground. +Cornels and salvage berries of the wood, +And roots and herbs, have been my meager food. +While all around my longing eyes I cast, +I saw your happy ships appear at last. +On those I fix'd my hopes, to these I run; +'T is all I ask, this cruel race to shun; +What other death you please, yourselves bestow.' + +"Scarce had he said, when on the mountain's brow +We saw the giant shepherd stalk before +His following flock, and leading to the shore: +A monstrous bulk, deform'd, depriv'd of sight; +His staff a trunk of pine, to guide his steps aright. +His pond'rous whistle from his neck descends; +His woolly care their pensive lord attends: +This only solace his hard fortune sends. +Soon as he reach'd the shore and touch'd the waves, +From his bor'd eye the gutt'ring blood he laves: +He gnash'd his teeth, and groan'd; thro' seas he strides, +And scarce the topmost billows touch'd his sides. + +"Seiz'd with a sudden fear, we run to sea, +The cables cut, and silent haste away; +The well-deserving stranger entertain; +Then, buckling to the work, our oars divide the main. +The giant harken'd to the dashing sound: +But, when our vessels out of reach he found, +He strided onward, and in vain essay'd +Th' Ionian deep, and durst no farther wade. +With that he roar'd aloud: the dreadful cry +Shakes earth, and air, and seas; the billows fly +Before the bellowing noise to distant Italy. +The neigh'ring Aetna trembling all around, +The winding caverns echo to the sound. +His brother Cyclops hear the yelling roar, +And, rushing down the mountains, crowd the shore. +We saw their stern distorted looks, from far, +And one-eyed glance, that vainly threaten'd war: +A dreadful council, with their heads on high; +(The misty clouds about their foreheads fly;) +Not yielding to the tow'ring tree of Jove, +Or tallest cypress of Diana's grove. +New pangs of mortal fear our minds assail; +We tug at ev'ry oar, and hoist up ev'ry sail, +And take th' advantage of the friendly gale. +Forewarn'd by Helenus, we strive to shun +Charybdis' gulf, nor dare to Scylla run. +An equal fate on either side appears: +We, tacking to the left, are free from fears; +For, from Pelorus' point, the North arose, +And drove us back where swift Pantagias flows. +His rocky mouth we pass, and make our way +By Thapsus and Megara's winding bay. +This passage Achaemenides had shown, +Tracing the course which he before had run. + +"Right o'er against Plemmyrium's wat'ry strand, +There lies an isle once call'd th' Ortygian land. +Alpheus, as old fame reports, has found +From Greece a secret passage under ground, +By love to beauteous Arethusa led; +And, mingling here, they roll in the same sacred bed. +As Helenus enjoin'd, we next adore +Diana's name, protectress of the shore. +With prosp'rous gales we pass the quiet sounds +Of still Elorus, and his fruitful bounds. +Then, doubling Cape Pachynus, we survey +The rocky shore extended to the sea. +The town of Camarine from far we see, +And fenny lake, undrain'd by fate's decree. +In sight of the Geloan fields we pass, +And the large walls, where mighty Gela was; +Then Agragas, with lofty summits crown'd, +Long for the race of warlike steeds renown'd. +We pass'd Selinus, and the palmy land, +And widely shun the Lilybaean strand, +Unsafe, for secret rocks and moving sand. +At length on shore the weary fleet arriv'd, +Which Drepanum's unhappy port receiv'd. +Here, after endless labors, often toss'd +By raging storms, and driv'n on ev'ry coast, +My dear, dear father, spent with age, I lost: +Ease of my cares, and solace of my pain, +Sav'd thro' a thousand toils, but sav'd in vain +The prophet, who my future woes reveal'd, +Yet this, the greatest and the worst, conceal'd; +And dire Celaeno, whose foreboding skill +Denounc'd all else, was silent of the ill. +This my last labor was. Some friendly god +From thence convey'd us to your blest abode." + +Thus, to the list'ning queen, the royal guest +His wand'ring course and all his toils express'd; +And here concluding, he retir'd to rest. +BOOK IV + +But anxious cares already seiz'd the queen: +She fed within her veins a flame unseen; +The hero's valor, acts, and birth inspire +Her soul with love, and fan the secret fire. +His words, his looks, imprinted in her heart, +Improve the passion, and increase the smart. +Now, when the purple morn had chas'd away +The dewy shadows, and restor'd the day, +Her sister first with early care she sought, +And thus in mournful accents eas'd her thought: + +"My dearest Anna, what new dreams affright +My lab'ring soul! what visions of the night +Disturb my quiet, and distract my breast +With strange ideas of our Trojan guest! +His worth, his actions, and majestic air, +A man descended from the gods declare. +Fear ever argues a degenerate kind; +His birth is well asserted by his mind. +Then, what he suffer'd, when by Fate betray'd! +What brave attempts for falling Troy he made! +Such were his looks, so gracefully he spoke, +That, were I not resolv'd against the yoke +Of hapless marriage, never to be curst +With second love, so fatal was my first, +To this one error I might yield again; +For, since Sichaeus was untimely slain, +This only man is able to subvert +The fix'd foundations of my stubborn heart. +And, to confess my frailty, to my shame, +Somewhat I find within, if not the same, +Too like the sparkles of my former flame. +But first let yawning earth a passage rend, +And let me thro' the dark abyss descend; +First let avenging Jove, with flames from high, +Drive down this body to the nether sky, +Condemn'd with ghosts in endless night to lie, +Before I break the plighted faith I gave! +No! he who had my vows shall ever have; +For, whom I lov'd on earth, I worship in the grave." + +She said: the tears ran gushing from her eyes, +And stopp'd her speech. Her sister thus replies: +"O dearer than the vital air I breathe, +Will you to grief your blooming years bequeath, +Condemn'd to waste in woes your lonely life, +Without the joys of mother or of wife? +Think you these tears, this pompous train of woe, +Are known or valued by the ghosts below? +I grant that, while your sorrows yet were green, +It well became a woman, and a queen, +The vows of Tyrian princes to neglect, +To scorn Hyarbas, and his love reject, +With all the Libyan lords of mighty name; +But will you fight against a pleasing flame! +This little spot of land, which Heav'n bestows, +On ev'ry side is hemm'd with warlike foes; +Gaetulian cities here are spread around, +And fierce Numidians there your frontiers bound; +Here lies a barren waste of thirsty land, +And there the Syrtes raise the moving sand; +Barcaean troops besiege the narrow shore, +And from the sea Pygmalion threatens more. +Propitious Heav'n, and gracious Juno, lead +This wand'ring navy to your needful aid: +How will your empire spread, your city rise, +From such a union, and with such allies? +Implore the favor of the pow'rs above, +And leave the conduct of the rest to love. +Continue still your hospitable way, +And still invent occasions of their stay, +Till storms and winter winds shall cease to threat, +And planks and oars repair their shatter'd fleet." + +These words, which from a friend and sister came, +With ease resolv'd the scruples of her fame, +And added fury to the kindled flame. +Inspir'd with hope, the project they pursue; +On ev'ry altar sacrifice renew: +A chosen ewe of two years old they pay +To Ceres, Bacchus, and the God of Day; +Preferring Juno's pow'r, for Juno ties +The nuptial knot and makes the marriage joys. +The beauteous queen before her altar stands, +And holds the golden goblet in her hands. +A milk-white heifer she with flow'rs adorns, +And pours the ruddy wine betwixt her horns; +And, while the priests with pray'r the gods invoke, +She feeds their altars with Sabaean smoke, +With hourly care the sacrifice renews, +And anxiously the panting entrails views. +What priestly rites, alas! what pious art, +What vows avail to cure a bleeding heart! +A gentle fire she feeds within her veins, +Where the soft god secure in silence reigns. + +Sick with desire, and seeking him she loves, +From street to street the raving Dido roves. +So when the watchful shepherd, from the blind, +Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind, +Distracted with her pain she flies the woods, +Bounds o'er the lawn, and seeks the silent floods, +With fruitless care; for still the fatal dart +Sticks in her side, and rankles in her heart. +And now she leads the Trojan chief along +The lofty walls, amidst the busy throng; +Displays her Tyrian wealth, and rising town, +Which love, without his labor, makes his own. +This pomp she shows, to tempt her wand'ring guest; +Her falt'ring tongue forbids to speak the rest. +When day declines, and feasts renew the night, +Still on his face she feeds her famish'd sight; +She longs again to hear the prince relate +His own adventures and the Trojan fate. +He tells it o'er and o'er; but still in vain, +For still she begs to hear it once again. +The hearer on the speaker's mouth depends, +And thus the tragic story never ends. + +Then, when they part, when Phoebe's paler light +Withdraws, and falling stars to sleep invite, +She last remains, when ev'ry guest is gone, +Sits on the bed he press'd, and sighs alone; +Absent, her absent hero sees and hears; +Or in her bosom young Ascanius bears, +And seeks the father's image in the child, +If love by likeness might be so beguil'd. + +Meantime the rising tow'rs are at a stand; +No labors exercise the youthful band, +Nor use of arts, nor toils of arms they know; +The mole is left unfinish'd to the foe; +The mounds, the works, the walls, neglected lie, +Short of their promis'd heighth, that seem'd to threat the sky, + +But when imperial Juno, from above, +Saw Dido fetter'd in the chains of love, +Hot with the venom which her veins inflam'd, +And by no sense of shame to be reclaim'd, +With soothing words to Venus she begun: +"High praises, endless honors, you have won, +And mighty trophies, with your worthy son! +Two gods a silly woman have undone! +Nor am I ignorant, you both suspect +This rising city, which my hands erect: +But shall celestial discord never cease? +'T is better ended in a lasting peace. +You stand possess'd of all your soul desir'd: +Poor Dido with consuming love is fir'd. +Your Trojan with my Tyrian let us join; +So Dido shall be yours, Aeneas mine: +One common kingdom, one united line. +Eliza shall a Dardan lord obey, +And lofty Carthage for a dow'r convey." +Then Venus, who her hidden fraud descried, +Which would the scepter of the world misguide +To Libyan shores, thus artfully replied: +"Who, but a fool, would wars with Juno choose, +And such alliance and such gifts refuse, +If Fortune with our joint desires comply? +The doubt is all from Jove and destiny; +Lest he forbid, with absolute command, +To mix the people in one common land- +Or will the Trojan and the Tyrian line +In lasting leagues and sure succession join? +But you, the partner of his bed and throne, +May move his mind; my wishes are your own." + +"Mine," said imperial Juno, "be the care; +Time urges, now, to perfect this affair: +Attend my counsel, and the secret share. +When next the Sun his rising light displays, +And gilds the world below with purple rays, +The queen, Aeneas, and the Tyrian court +Shall to the shady woods, for sylvan game, resort. +There, while the huntsmen pitch their toils around, +And cheerful horns from side to side resound, +A pitchy cloud shall cover all the plain +With hail, and thunder, and tempestuous rain; +The fearful train shall take their speedy flight, +Dispers'd, and all involv'd in gloomy night; +One cave a grateful shelter shall afford +To the fair princess and the Trojan lord. +I will myself the bridal bed prepare, +If you, to bless the nuptials, will be there: +So shall their loves be crown'd with due delights, +And Hymen shall be present at the rites." +The Queen of Love consents, and closely smiles +At her vain project, and discover'd wiles. + +The rosy morn was risen from the main, +And horns and hounds awake the princely train: +They issue early thro' the city gate, +Where the more wakeful huntsmen ready wait, +With nets, and toils, and darts, beside the force +Of Spartan dogs, and swift Massylian horse. +The Tyrian peers and officers of state +For the slow queen in antechambers wait; +Her lofty courser, in the court below, +Who his majestic rider seems to know, +Proud of his purple trappings, paws the ground, +And champs the golden bit, and spreads the foam around. +The queen at length appears; on either hand +The brawny guards in martial order stand. +A flow'r'd simar with golden fringe she wore, +And at her back a golden quiver bore; +Her flowing hair a golden caul restrains, +A golden clasp the Tyrian robe sustains. +Then young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace, +Leads on the Trojan youth to view the chase. +But far above the rest in beauty shines +The great Aeneas, the troop he joins; +Like fair Apollo, when he leaves the frost +Of wint'ry Xanthus, and the Lycian coast, +When to his native Delos he resorts, +Ordains the dances, and renews the sports; +Where painted Scythians, mix'd with Cretan bands, +Before the joyful altars join their hands: +Himself, on Cynthus walking, sees below +The merry madness of the sacred show. +Green wreaths of bays his length of hair inclose; +A golden fillet binds his awful brows; +His quiver sounds: not less the prince is seen +In manly presence, or in lofty mien. + +Now had they reach'd the hills, and storm'd the seat +Of salvage beasts, in dens, their last retreat. +The cry pursues the mountain goats: they bound +From rock to rock, and keep the craggy ground; +Quite otherwise the stags, a trembling train, +In herds unsingled, scour the dusty plain, +And a long chase in open view maintain. +The glad Ascanius, as his courser guides, +Spurs thro' the vale, and these and those outrides. +His horse's flanks and sides are forc'd to feel +The clanking lash, and goring of the steel. +Impatiently he views the feeble prey, +Wishing some nobler beast to cross his way, +And rather would the tusky boar attend, +Or see the tawny lion downward bend. + +Meantime, the gath'ring clouds obscure the skies: +From pole to pole the forky lightning flies; +The rattling thunders roll; and Juno pours +A wintry deluge down, and sounding show'rs. +The company, dispers'd, to converts ride, +And seek the homely cots, or mountain's hollow side. +The rapid rains, descending from the hills, +To rolling torrents raise the creeping rills. +The queen and prince, as love or fortune guides, +One common cavern in her bosom hides. +Then first the trembling earth the signal gave, +And flashing fires enlighten all the cave; +Hell from below, and Juno from above, +And howling nymphs, were conscious of their love. +From this ill-omen'd hour in time arose +Debate and death, and all succeeding woes. + +The queen, whom sense of honor could not move, +No longer made a secret of her love, +But call'd it marriage, by that specious name +To veil the crime and sanctify the shame. + +The loud report thro' Libyan cities goes. +Fame, the great ill, from small beginnings grows: +Swift from the first; and ev'ry moment brings +New vigor to her flights, new pinions to her wings. +Soon grows the pigmy to gigantic size; +Her feet on earth, her forehead in the skies. +Inrag'd against the gods, revengeful Earth +Produc'd her last of the Titanian birth. +Swift is her walk, more swift her winged haste: +A monstrous phantom, horrible and vast. +As many plumes as raise her lofty flight, +So many piercing eyes inlarge her sight; +Millions of opening mouths to Fame belong, +And ev'ry mouth is furnish'd with a tongue, +And round with list'ning ears the flying plague is hung. +She fills the peaceful universe with cries; +No slumbers ever close her wakeful eyes; +By day, from lofty tow'rs her head she shews, +And spreads thro' trembling crowds disastrous news; +With court informers haunts, and royal spies; +Things done relates, not done she feigns, and mingles truth with + +lies. +Talk is her business, and her chief delight +To tell of prodigies and cause affright. +She fills the people's ears with Dido's name, +Who, lost to honor and the sense of shame, +Admits into her throne and nuptial bed +A wand'ring guest, who from his country fled: +Whole days with him she passes in delights, +And wastes in luxury long winter nights, +Forgetful of her fame and royal trust, +Dissolv'd in ease, abandon'd to her lust. + +The goddess widely spreads the loud report, +And flies at length to King Hyarba's court. +When first possess'd with this unwelcome news +Whom did he not of men and gods accuse? +This prince, from ravish'd Garamantis born, +A hundred temples did with spoils adorn, +In Ammon's honor, his celestial sire; +A hundred altars fed with wakeful fire; +And, thro' his vast dominions, priests ordain'd, +Whose watchful care these holy rites maintain'd. +The gates and columns were with garlands crown'd, +And blood of victim beasts enrich'd the ground. + +He, when he heard a fugitive could move +The Tyrian princess, who disdain'd his love, +His breast with fury burn'd, his eyes with fire, +Mad with despair, impatient with desire; +Then on the sacred altars pouring wine, +He thus with pray'rs implor'd his sire divine: +"Great Jove! propitious to the Moorish race, +Who feast on painted beds, with off'rings grace +Thy temples, and adore thy pow'r divine +With blood of victims, and with sparkling wine, +Seest thou not this? or do we fear in vain +Thy boasted thunder, and thy thoughtless reign? +Do thy broad hands the forky lightnings lance? +Thine are the bolts, or the blind work of chance? +A wand'ring woman builds, within our state, +A little town, bought at an easy rate; +She pays me homage, and my grants allow +A narrow space of Libyan lands to plow; +Yet, scorning me, by passion blindly led, +Admits a banish'd Trojan to her bed! +And now this other Paris, with his train +Of conquer'd cowards, must in Afric reign! +(Whom, what they are, their looks and garb confess, +Their locks with oil perfum'd, their Lydian dress.) +He takes the spoil, enjoys the princely dame; +And I, rejected I, adore an empty name." + +His vows, in haughty terms, he thus preferr'd, +And held his altar's horns. The mighty Thund'rer heard; +Then cast his eyes on Carthage, where he found +The lustful pair in lawless pleasure drown'd, +Lost in their loves, insensible of shame, +And both forgetful of their better fame. +He calls Cyllenius, and the god attends, +By whom his menacing command he sends: +"Go, mount the western winds, and cleave the sky; +Then, with a swift descent, to Carthage fly: +There find the Trojan chief, who wastes his days +In slothful not and inglorious ease, +Nor minds the future city, giv'n by fate. +To him this message from my mouth relate: +'Not so fair Venus hop'd, when twice she won +Thy life with pray'rs, nor promis'd such a son. +Hers was a hero, destin'd to command +A martial race, and rule the Latian land, +Who should his ancient line from Teucer draw, +And on the conquer'd world impose the law.' +If glory cannot move a mind so mean, +Nor future praise from fading pleasure wean, +Yet why should he defraud his son of fame, +And grudge the Romans their immortal name! +What are his vain designs! what hopes he more +From his long ling'ring on a hostile shore, +Regardless to redeem his honor lost, +And for his race to gain th' Ausonian coast! +Bid him with speed the Tyrian court forsake; +With this command the slumb'ring warrior wake." + +Hermes obeys; with golden pinions binds +His flying feet, and mounts the western winds: +And, whether o'er the seas or earth he flies, +With rapid force they bear him down the skies. +But first he grasps within his awful hand +The mark of sov'reign pow'r, his magic wand; +With this he draws the ghosts from hollow graves; +With this he drives them down the Stygian waves; +With this he seals in sleep the wakeful sight, +And eyes, tho' clos'd in death, restores to light. +Thus arm'd, the god begins his airy race, +And drives the racking clouds along the liquid space; +Now sees the tops of Atlas, as he flies, +Whose brawny back supports the starry skies; +Atlas, whose head, with piny forests crown'd, +Is beaten by the winds, with foggy vapors bound. +Snows hide his shoulders; from beneath his chin +The founts of rolling streams their race begin; +A beard of ice on his large breast depends. +Here, pois'd upon his wings, the god descends: +Then, rested thus, he from the tow'ring height +Plung'd downward, with precipitated flight, +Lights on the seas, and skims along the flood. +As waterfowl, who seek their fishy food, +Less, and yet less, to distant prospect show; +By turns they dance aloft, and dive below: +Like these, the steerage of his wings he plies, +And near the surface of the water flies, +Till, having pass'd the seas, and cross'd the sands, +He clos'd his wings, and stoop'd on Libyan lands: +Where shepherds once were hous'd in homely sheds, +Now tow'rs within the clouds advance their heads. +Arriving there, he found the Trojan prince +New ramparts raising for the town's defense. +A purple scarf, with gold embroider'd o'er, +(Queen Dido's gift,) about his waist he wore; +A sword, with glitt'ring gems diversified, +For ornament, not use, hung idly by his side. + +Then thus, with winged words, the god began, +Resuming his own shape: "Degenerate man, +Thou woman's property, what mak'st thou here, +These foreign walls and Tyrian tow'rs to rear, +Forgetful of thy own? All-pow'rful Jove, +Who sways the world below and heav'n above, +Has sent me down with this severe command: +What means thy ling'ring in the Libyan land? +If glory cannot move a mind so mean, +Nor future praise from flitting pleasure wean, +Regard the fortunes of thy rising heir: +The promis'd crown let young Ascanius wear, +To whom th' Ausonian scepter, and the state +Of Rome's imperial name is ow'd by fate." +So spoke the god; and, speaking, took his flight, +Involv'd in clouds, and vanish'd out of sight. + +The pious prince was seiz'd with sudden fear; +Mute was his tongue, and upright stood his hair. +Revolving in his mind the stern command, +He longs to fly, and loathes the charming land. +What should he say? or how should he begin? +What course, alas! remains to steer between +Th' offended lover and the pow'rful queen? +This way and that he turns his anxious mind, +And all expedients tries, and none can find. +Fix'd on the deed, but doubtful of the means, +After long thought, to this advice he leans: +Three chiefs he calls, commands them to repair +The fleet, and ship their men with silent care; +Some plausible pretense he bids them find, +To color what in secret he design'd. +Himself, meantime, the softest hours would choose, +Before the love-sick lady heard the news; +And move her tender mind, by slow degrees, +To suffer what the sov'reign pow'r decrees: +Jove will inspire him, when, and what to say. +They hear with pleasure, and with haste obey. + +But soon the queen perceives the thin disguise: +(What arts can blind a jealous woman's eyes!) +She was the first to find the secret fraud, +Before the fatal news was blaz'd abroad. +Love the first motions of the lover hears, +Quick to presage, and ev'n in safety fears. +Nor impious Fame was wanting to report +The ships repair'd, the Trojans' thick resort, +And purpose to forsake the Tyrian court. +Frantic with fear, impatient of the wound, +And impotent of mind, she roves the city round. +Less wild the Bacchanalian dames appear, +When, from afar, their nightly god they hear, +And howl about the hills, and shake the wreathy spear. +At length she finds the dear perfidious man; +Prevents his form'd excuse, and thus began: +"Base and ungrateful! could you hope to fly, +And undiscover'd scape a lover's eye? +Nor could my kindness your compassion move. +Nor plighted vows, nor dearer bands of love? +Or is the death of a despairing queen +Not worth preventing, tho' too well foreseen? +Ev'n when the wintry winds command your stay, +You dare the tempests, and defy the sea. +False as you are, suppose you were not bound +To lands unknown, and foreign coasts to sound; +Were Troy restor'd, and Priam's happy reign, +Now durst you tempt, for Troy, the raging main? +See whom you fly! am I the foe you shun? +Now, by those holy vows, so late begun, +By this right hand, (since I have nothing more +To challenge, but the faith you gave before;) +I beg you by these tears too truly shed, +By the new pleasures of our nuptial bed; +If ever Dido, when you most were kind, +Were pleasing in your eyes, or touch'd your mind; +By these my pray'rs, if pray'rs may yet have place, +Pity the fortunes of a falling race. +For you I have provok'd a tyrant's hate, +Incens'd the Libyan and the Tyrian state; +For you alone I suffer in my fame, +Bereft of honor, and expos'd to shame. +Whom have I now to trust, ungrateful guest? +(That only name remains of all the rest!) +What have I left? or whither can I fly? +Must I attend Pygmalion's cruelty, +Or till Hyarba shall in triumph lead +A queen that proudly scorn'd his proffer'd bed? +Had you deferr'd, at least, your hasty flight, +And left behind some pledge of our delight, +Some babe to bless the mother's mournful sight, +Some young Aeneas, to supply your place, +Whose features might express his father's face; +I should not then complain to live bereft +Of all my husband, or be wholly left." + +Here paus'd the queen. Unmov'd he holds his eyes, +By Jove's command; nor suffer'd love to rise, +Tho' heaving in his heart; and thus at length replies: +"Fair queen, you never can enough repeat +Your boundless favors, or I own my debt; +Nor can my mind forget Eliza's name, +While vital breath inspires this mortal frame. +This only let me speak in my defense: +I never hop'd a secret flight from hence, +Much less pretended to the lawful claim +Of sacred nuptials, or a husband's name. +For, if indulgent Heav'n would leave me free, +And not submit my life to fate's decree, +My choice would lead me to the Trojan shore, +Those relics to review, their dust adore, +And Priam's ruin'd palace to restore. +But now the Delphian oracle commands, +And fate invites me to the Latian lands. +That is the promis'd place to which I steer, +And all my vows are terminated there. +If you, a Tyrian, and a stranger born, +With walls and tow'rs a Libyan town adorn, +Why may not we- like you, a foreign race- +Like you, seek shelter in a foreign place? +As often as the night obscures the skies +With humid shades, or twinkling stars arise, +Anchises' angry ghost in dreams appears, +Chides my delay, and fills my soul with fears; +And young Ascanius justly may complain +Of his defrauded and destin'd reign. +Ev'n now the herald of the gods appear'd: +Waking I saw him, and his message heard. +From Jove he came commission'd, heav'nly bright +With radiant beams, and manifest to sight +(The sender and the sent I both attest) +These walls he enter'd, and those words express'd. +Fair queen, oppose not what the gods command; +Forc'd by my fate, I leave your happy land." + +Thus while he spoke, already she began, +With sparkling eyes, to view the guilty man; +From head to foot survey'd his person o'er, +Nor longer these outrageous threats forebore: +"False as thou art, and, more than false, forsworn! +Not sprung from noble blood, nor goddess-born, +But hewn from harden'd entrails of a rock! +And rough Hyrcanian tigers gave thee suck! +Why should I fawn? what have I worse to fear? +Did he once look, or lent a list'ning ear, +Sigh'd when I sobb'd, or shed one kindly tear?- +All symptoms of a base ungrateful mind, +So foul, that, which is worse, 'tis hard to find. +Of man's injustice why should I complain? +The gods, and Jove himself, behold in vain +Triumphant treason; yet no thunder flies, +Nor Juno views my wrongs with equal eyes; +Faithless is earth, and faithless are the skies! +Justice is fled, and Truth is now no more! +I sav'd the shipwrack'd exile on my shore; +With needful food his hungry Trojans fed; +I took the traitor to my throne and bed: +Fool that I was- 't is little to repeat +The rest- I stor'd and rigg'd his ruin'd fleet. +I rave, I rave! A god's command he pleads, +And makes Heav'n accessary to his deeds. +Now Lycian lots, and now the Delian god, +Now Hermes is employ'd from Jove's abode, +To warn him hence; as if the peaceful state +Of heav'nly pow'rs were touch'd with human fate! +But go! thy flight no longer I detain- +Go seek thy promis'd kingdom thro' the main! +Yet, if the heav'ns will hear my pious vow, +The faithless waves, not half so false as thou, +Or secret sands, shall sepulchers afford +To thy proud vessels, and their perjur'd lord. +Then shalt thou call on injur'd Dido's name: +Dido shall come in a black sulph'ry flame, +When death has once dissolv'd her mortal frame; +Shall smile to see the traitor vainly weep: +Her angry ghost, arising from the deep, +Shall haunt thee waking, and disturb thy sleep. +At least my shade thy punishment shall know, +And Fame shall spread the pleasing news below." + +Abruptly here she stops; then turns away +Her loathing eyes, and shuns the sight of day. +Amaz'd he stood, revolving in his mind +What speech to frame, and what excuse to find. +Her fearful maids their fainting mistress led, +And softly laid her on her ivory bed. + +But good Aeneas, tho' he much desir'd +To give that pity which her grief requir'd; +Tho' much he mourn'd, and labor'd with his love, +Resolv'd at length, obeys the will of Jove; +Reviews his forces: they with early care +Unmoor their vessels, and for sea prepare. +The fleet is soon afloat, in all its pride, +And well-calk'd galleys in the harbor ride. +Then oaks for oars they fell'd; or, as they stood, +Of its green arms despoil'd the growing wood, +Studious of flight. The beach is cover'd o'er +With Trojan bands, that blacken all the shore: +On ev'ry side are seen, descending down, +Thick swarms of soldiers, loaden from the town. +Thus, in battalia, march embodied ants, +Fearful of winter, and of future wants, +T' invade the corn, and to their cells convey +The plunder'd forage of their yellow prey. +The sable troops, along the narrow tracks, +Scarce bear the weighty burthen on their backs: +Some set their shoulders to the pond'rous grain; +Some guard the spoil; some lash the lagging train; +All ply their sev'ral tasks, and equal toil sustain. + +What pangs the tender breast of Dido tore, +When, from the tow'r, she saw the cover'd shore, +And heard the shouts of sailors from afar, +Mix'd with the murmurs of the wat'ry war! +All-pow'rful Love! what changes canst thou cause +In human hearts, subjected to thy laws! +Once more her haughty soul the tyrant bends: +To pray'rs and mean submissions she descends. +No female arts or aids she left untried, +Nor counsels unexplor'd, before she died. +"Look, Anna! look! the Trojans crowd to sea; +They spread their canvas, and their anchors weigh. +The shouting crew their ships with garlands bind, +Invoke the sea gods, and invite the wind. +Could I have thought this threat'ning blow so near, +My tender soul had been forewarn'd to bear. +But do not you my last request deny; +With yon perfidious man your int'rest try, +And bring me news, if I must live or die. +You are his fav'rite; you alone can find +The dark recesses of his inmost mind: +In all his trusted secrets you have part, +And know the soft approaches to his heart. +Haste then, and humbly seek my haughty foe; +Tell him, I did not with the Grecians go, +Nor did my fleet against his friends employ, +Nor swore the ruin of unhappy Troy, +Nor mov'd with hands profane his father's dust: +Why should he then reject a just! +Whom does he shun, and whither would he fly! +Can he this last, this only pray'r deny! +Let him at least his dang'rous flight delay, +Wait better winds, and hope a calmer sea. +The nuptials he disclaims I urge no more: +Let him pursue the promis'd Latian shore. +A short delay is all I ask him now; +A pause of grief, an interval from woe, +Till my soft soul be temper'd to sustain +Accustom'd sorrows, and inur'd to pain. +If you in pity grant this one request, +My death shall glut the hatred of his breast." +This mournful message pious Anna bears, +And seconds with her own her sister's tears: +But all her arts are still employ'd in vain; +Again she comes, and is refus'd again. +His harden'd heart nor pray'rs nor threat'nings move; +Fate, and the god, had stopp'd his ears to love. + +As, when the winds their airy quarrel try, +Justling from ev'ry quarter of the sky, +This way and that the mountain oak they bend, +His boughs they shatter, and his branches rend; +With leaves and falling mast they spread the ground; +The hollow valleys echo to the sound: +Unmov'd, the royal plant their fury mocks, +Or, shaken, clings more closely to the rocks; +Far as he shoots his tow'ring head on high, +So deep in earth his fix'd foundations lie. +No less a storm the Trojan hero bears; +Thick messages and loud complaints he hears, +And bandied words, still beating on his ears. +Sighs, groans, and tears proclaim his inward pains; +But the firm purpose of his heart remains. + +The wretched queen, pursued by cruel fate, +Begins at length the light of heav'n to hate, +And loathes to live. Then dire portents she sees, +To hasten on the death her soul decrees: +Strange to relate! for when, before the shrine, +She pours in sacrifice the purple wine, +The purple wine is turn'd to putrid blood, +And the white offer'd milk converts to mud. +This dire presage, to her alone reveal'd, +From all, and ev'n her sister, she conceal'd. +A marble temple stood within the grove, +Sacred to death, and to her murther'd love; +That honor'd chapel she had hung around +With snowy fleeces, and with garlands crown'd: +Oft, when she visited this lonely dome, +Strange voices issued from her husband's tomb; +She thought she heard him summon her away, +Invite her to his grave, and chide her stay. +Hourly 't is heard, when with a boding note +The solitary screech owl strains her throat, +And, on a chimney's top, or turret's height, +With songs obscene disturbs the silence of the night. +Besides, old prophecies augment her fears; +And stern Aeneas in her dreams appears, +Disdainful as by day: she seems, alone, +To wander in her sleep, thro' ways unknown, +Guideless and dark; or, in a desart plain, +To seek her subjects, and to seek in vain: +Like Pentheus, when, distracted with his fear, +He saw two suns, and double Thebes, appear; +Or mad Orestes, when his mother's ghost +Full in his face infernal torches toss'd, +And shook her snaky locks: he shuns the sight, +Flies o'er the stage, surpris'd with mortal fright; +The Furies guard the door and intercept his flight. + +Now, sinking underneath a load of grief, +From death alone she seeks her last relief; +The time and means resolv'd within her breast, +She to her mournful sister thus address'd +(Dissembling hope, her cloudy front she clears, +And a false vigor in her eyes appears): +"Rejoice!" she said. "Instructed from above, +My lover I shall gain, or lose my love. +Nigh rising Atlas, next the falling sun, +Long tracts of Ethiopian climates run: +There a Massylian priestess I have found, +Honor'd for age, for magic arts renown'd: +Th' Hesperian temple was her trusted care; +'T was she supplied the wakeful dragon's fare. +She poppy seeds in honey taught to steep, +Reclaim'd his rage, and sooth'd him into sleep. +She watch'd the golden fruit; her charms unbind +The chains of love, or fix them on the mind: +She stops the torrents, leaves the channel dry, +Repels the stars, and backward bears the sky. +The yawning earth rebellows to her call, +Pale ghosts ascend, and mountain ashes fall. +Witness, ye gods, and thou my better part, +How loth I am to try this impious art! +Within the secret court, with silent care, +Erect a lofty pile, expos'd in air: +Hang on the topmost part the Trojan vest, +Spoils, arms, and presents, of my faithless guest. +Next, under these, the bridal bed be plac'd, +Where I my ruin in his arms embrac'd: +All relics of the wretch are doom'd to fire; +For so the priestess and her charms require." + +Thus far she said, and farther speech forbears; +A mortal paleness in her face appears: +Yet the mistrustless Anna could not find +The secret fun'ral in these rites design'd; +Nor thought so dire a rage possess'd her mind. +Unknowing of a train conceal'd so well, +She fear'd no worse than when Sichaeus fell; +Therefore obeys. The fatal pile they rear, +Within the secret court, expos'd in air. +The cloven holms and pines are heap'd on high, +And garlands on the hollow spaces lie. +Sad cypress, vervain, yew, compose the wreath, +And ev'ry baleful green denoting death. +The queen, determin'd to the fatal deed, +The spoils and sword he left, in order spread, +And the man's image on the nuptial bed. + +And now (the sacred altars plac'd around) +The priestess enters, with her hair unbound, +And thrice invokes the pow'rs below the ground. +Night, Erebus, and Chaos she proclaims, +And threefold Hecate, with her hundred names, +And three Dianas: next, she sprinkles round +With feign'd Avernian drops the hallow'd ground; +Culls hoary simples, found by Phoebe's light, +With brazen sickles reap'd at noon of night; +Then mixes baleful juices in the bowl, +And cuts the forehead of a newborn foal, +Robbing the mother's love. The destin'd queen +Observes, assisting at the rites obscene; +A leaven'd cake in her devoted hands +She holds, and next the highest altar stands: +One tender foot was shod, her other bare; +Girt was her gather'd gown, and loose her hair. +Thus dress'd, she summon'd, with her dying breath, +The heav'ns and planets conscious of her death, +And ev'ry pow'r, if any rules above, +Who minds, or who revenges, injur'd love. + +"'T was dead of night, when weary bodies close +Their eyes in balmy sleep and soft repose: +The winds no longer whisper thro' the woods, +Nor murm'ring tides disturb the gentle floods. +The stars in silent order mov'd around; +And Peace, with downy wings, was brooding on the ground +The flocks and herds, and party-color'd fowl, +Which haunt the woods, or swim the weedy pool, +Stretch'd on the quiet earth, securely lay, +Forgetting the past labors of the day. +All else of nature's common gift partake: +Unhappy Dido was alone awake. +Nor sleep nor ease the furious queen can find; +Sleep fled her eyes, as quiet fled her mind. +Despair, and rage, and love divide her heart; +Despair and rage had some, but love the greater part. + +Then thus she said within her secret mind: +"What shall I do? what succor can I find? +Become a suppliant to Hyarba's pride, +And take my turn, to court and be denied? +Shall I with this ungrateful Trojan go, +Forsake an empire, and attend a foe? +Himself I refug'd, and his train reliev'd- +'T is true- but am I sure to be receiv'd? +Can gratitude in Trojan souls have place! +Laomedon still lives in all his race! +Then, shall I seek alone the churlish crew, +Or with my fleet their flying sails pursue? +What force have I but those whom scarce before +I drew reluctant from their native shore? +Will they again embark at my desire, +Once more sustain the seas, and quit their second Tyre? +Rather with steel thy guilty breast invade, +And take the fortune thou thyself hast made. +Your pity, sister, first seduc'd my mind, +Or seconded too well what I design'd. +These dear-bought pleasures had I never known, +Had I continued free, and still my own; +Avoiding love, I had not found despair, +But shar'd with salvage beasts the common air. +Like them, a lonely life I might have led, +Not mourn'd the living, nor disturb'd the dead." +These thoughts she brooded in her anxious breast. +On board, the Trojan found more easy rest. +Resolv'd to sail, in sleep he pass'd the night; +And order'd all things for his early flight. + +To whom once more the winged god appears; +His former youthful mien and shape he wears, +And with this new alarm invades his ears: +"Sleep'st thou, O goddess-born! and canst thou drown +Thy needful cares, so near a hostile town, +Beset with foes; nor hear'st the western gales +Invite thy passage, and inspire thy sails? +She harbors in her heart a furious hate, +And thou shalt find the dire effects too late; +Fix'd on revenge, and obstinate to die. +Haste swiftly hence, while thou hast pow'r to fly. +The sea with ships will soon be cover'd o'er, +And blazing firebrands kindle all the shore. +Prevent her rage, while night obscures the skies, +And sail before the purple morn arise. +Who knows what hazards thy delay may bring? +Woman's a various and a changeful thing." +Thus Hermes in the dream; then took his flight +Aloft in air unseen, and mix'd with night. + +Twice warn'd by the celestial messenger, +The pious prince arose with hasty fear; +Then rous'd his drowsy train without delay: +"Haste to your banks; your crooked anchors weigh, +And spread your flying sails, and stand to sea. +A god commands: he stood before my sight, +And urg'd us once again to speedy flight. +O sacred pow'r, what pow'r soe'er thou art, +To thy blest orders I resign my heart. +Lead thou the way; protect thy Trojan bands, +And prosper the design thy will commands." +He said: and, drawing forth his flaming sword, +His thund'ring arm divides the many-twisted cord. +An emulating zeal inspires his train: +They run; they snatch; they rush into the main. +With headlong haste they leave the desert shores, +And brush the liquid seas with lab'ring oars. + +Aurora now had left her saffron bed, +And beams of early light the heav'ns o'erspread, +When, from a tow'r, the queen, with wakeful eyes, +Saw day point upward from the rosy skies. +She look'd to seaward; but the sea was void, +And scarce in ken the sailing ships descried. +Stung with despite, and furious with despair, +She struck her trembling breast, and tore her hair. +"And shall th' ungrateful traitor go," she said, +"My land forsaken, and my love betray'd? +Shall we not arm? not rush from ev'ry street, +To follow, sink, and burn his perjur'd fleet? +Haste, haul my galleys out! pursue the foe! +Bring flaming brands! set sail, and swiftly row! +What have I said? where am I? Fury turns +My brain; and my distemper'd bosom burns. +Then, when I gave my person and my throne, +This hate, this rage, had been more timely shown. +See now the promis'd faith, the vaunted name, +The pious man, who, rushing thro' the flame, +Preserv'd his gods, and to the Phrygian shore +The burthen of his feeble father bore! +I should have torn him piecemeal; strow'd in floods +His scatter'd limbs, or left expos'd in woods; +Destroy'd his friends and son; and, from the fire, +Have set the reeking boy before the sire. +Events are doubtful, which on battles wait: +Yet where's the doubt, to souls secure of fate? +My Tyrians, at their injur'd queen's command, +Had toss'd their fires amid the Trojan band; +At once extinguish'd all the faithless name; +And I myself, in vengeance of my shame, +Had fall'n upon the pile, to mend the fun'ral flame. +Thou Sun, who view'st at once the world below; +Thou Juno, guardian of the nuptial vow; +Thou Hecate hearken from thy dark abodes! +Ye Furies, fiends, and violated gods, +All pow'rs invok'd with Dido's dying breath, +Attend her curses and avenge her death! +If so the Fates ordain, Jove commands, +Th' ungrateful wretch should find the Latian lands, +Yet let a race untam'd, and haughty foes, +His peaceful entrance with dire arms oppose: +Oppress'd with numbers in th' unequal field, +His men discourag'd, and himself expell'd, +Let him for succor sue from place to place, +Torn from his subjects, and his son's embrace. +First, let him see his friends in battle slain, +And their untimely fate lament in vain; +And when, at length, the cruel war shall cease, +On hard conditions may he buy his peace: +Nor let him then enjoy supreme command; +But fall, untimely, by some hostile hand, +And lie unburied on the barren sand! +These are my pray'rs, and this my dying will; +And you, my Tyrians, ev'ry curse fulfil. +Perpetual hate and mortal wars proclaim, +Against the prince, the people, and the name. +These grateful off'rings on my grave bestow; +Nor league, nor love, the hostile nations know! +Now, and from hence, in ev'ry future age, +When rage excites your arms, and strength supplies the rage +Rise some avenger of our Libyan blood, +With fire and sword pursue the perjur'd brood; +Our arms, our seas, our shores, oppos'd to theirs; +And the same hate descend on all our heirs!" + +This said, within her anxious mind she weighs +The means of cutting short her odious days. +Then to Sichaeus' nurse she briefly said +(For, when she left her country, hers was dead): +"Go, Barce, call my sister. Let her care +The solemn rites of sacrifice prepare; +The sheep, and all th' atoning off'rings bring, +Sprinkling her body from the crystal spring +With living drops; then let her come, and thou +With sacred fillets bind thy hoary brow. +Thus will I pay my vows to Stygian Jove, +And end the cares of my disastrous love; +Then cast the Trojan image on the fire, +And, as that burns, my passions shall expire." + +The nurse moves onward, with officious care, +And all the speed her aged limbs can bear. +But furious Dido, with dark thoughts involv'd, +Shook at the mighty mischief she resolv'd. +With livid spots distinguish'd was her face; +Red were her rolling eyes, and discompos'd her pace; +Ghastly she gaz'd, with pain she drew her breath, +And nature shiver'd at approaching death. + +Then swiftly to the fatal place she pass'd, +And mounts the fun'ral pile with furious haste; +Unsheathes the sword the Trojan left behind +(Not for so dire an enterprise design'd). +But when she view'd the garments loosely spread, +Which once he wore, and saw the conscious bed, +She paus'd, and with a sigh the robes embrac'd; +Then on the couch her trembling body cast, +Repress'd the ready tears, and spoke her last: +"Dear pledges of my love, while Heav'n so pleas'd, +Receive a soul, of mortal anguish eas'd: +My fatal course is finish'd; and I go, +A glorious name, among the ghosts below. +A lofty city by my hands is rais'd, +Pygmalion punish'd, and my lord appeas'd. +What could my fortune have afforded more, +Had the false Trojan never touch'd my shore!" +Then kiss'd the couch; and, "Must I die," she said, +"And unreveng'd? 'T is doubly to be dead! +Yet ev'n this death with pleasure I receive: +On any terms, 't is better than to live. +These flames, from far, may the false Trojan view; +These boding omens his base flight pursue!" + +She said, and struck; deep enter'd in her side +The piercing steel, with reeking purple dyed: +Clogg'd in the wound the cruel weapon stands; +The spouting blood came streaming on her hands. +Her sad attendants saw the deadly stroke, +And with loud cries the sounding palace shook. +Distracted, from the fatal sight they fled, +And thro' the town the dismal rumor spread. +First from the frighted court the yell began; +Redoubled, thence from house to house it ran: +The groans of men, with shrieks, laments, and cries +Of mixing women, mount the vaulted skies. +Not less the clamor, than if- ancient Tyre, +Or the new Carthage, set by foes on fire- +The rolling ruin, with their lov'd abodes, +Involv'd the blazing temples of their gods. + +Her sister hears; and, furious with despair, +She beats her breast, and rends her yellow hair, +And, calling on Eliza's name aloud, +Runs breathless to the place, and breaks the crowd. +"Was all that pomp of woe for this prepar'd; +These fires, this fun'ral pile, these altars rear'd? +Was all this train of plots contriv'd," said she, +"All only to deceive unhappy me? +Which is the worst? Didst thou in death pretend +To scorn thy sister, or delude thy friend? +Thy summon'd sister, and thy friend, had come; +One sword had serv'd us both, one common tomb: +Was I to raise the pile, the pow'rs invoke, +Not to be present at the fatal stroke? +At once thou hast destroy'd thyself and me, +Thy town, thy senate, and thy colony! +Bring water; bathe the wound; while I in death +Lay close my lips to hers, and catch the flying breath." +This said, she mounts the pile with eager haste, +And in her arms the gasping queen embrac'd; +Her temples chaf'd; and her own garments tore, +To stanch the streaming blood, and cleanse the gore. +Thrice Dido tried to raise her drooping head, +And, fainting thrice, fell grov'ling on the bed; +Thrice op'd her heavy eyes, and sought the light, +But, having found it, sicken'd at the sight, +And clos'd her lids at last in endless night. + +Then Juno, grieving that she should sustain +A death so ling'ring, and so full of pain, +Sent Iris down, to free her from the strife +Of lab'ring nature, and dissolve her life. +For since she died, not doom'd by Heav'n's decree, +Or her own crime, but human casualty, +And rage of love, that plung'd her in despair, +The Sisters had not cut the topmost hair, +Which Proserpine and they can only know; +Nor made her sacred to the shades below. +Downward the various goddess took her flight, +And drew a thousand colors from the light; +Then stood above the dying lover's head, +And said: "I thus devote thee to the dead. +This off'ring to th' infernal gods I bear." +Thus while she spoke, she cut the fatal hair: +The struggling soul was loos'd, and life dissolv'd in air. +BOOK V + +Meantime the Trojan cuts his wat'ry way, +Fix'd on his voyage, thro' the curling sea; +Then, casting back his eyes, with dire amaze, +Sees on the Punic shore the mounting blaze. +The cause unknown; yet his presaging mind +The fate of Dido from the fire divin'd; +He knew the stormy souls of womankind, +What secret springs their eager passions move, +How capable of death for injur'd love. +Dire auguries from hence the Trojans draw; +Till neither fires nor shining shores they saw. +Now seas and skies their prospect only bound; +An empty space above, a floating field around. +But soon the heav'ns with shadows were o'erspread; +A swelling cloud hung hov'ring o'er their head: +Livid it look'd, the threat'ning of a storm: +Then night and horror ocean's face deform. +The pilot, Palinurus, cried aloud: +"What gusts of weather from that gath'ring cloud +My thoughts presage! Ere yet the tempest roars, +Stand to your tackle, mates, and stretch your oars; +Contract your swelling sails, and luff to wind." +The frighted crew perform the task assign'd. +Then, to his fearless chief: "Not Heav'n," said he, +"Tho' Jove himself should promise Italy, +Can stem the torrent of this raging sea. +Mark how the shifting winds from west arise, +And what collected night involves the skies! +Nor can our shaken vessels live at sea, +Much less against the tempest force their way. +'T is fate diverts our course, and fate we must obey. +Not far from hence, if I observ'd aright +The southing of the stars, and polar light, +Sicilia lies, whose hospitable shores +In safety we may reach with struggling oars." +Aeneas then replied: "Too sure I find +We strive in vain against the seas and wind: +Now shift your sails; what place can please me more +Than what you promise, the Sicilian shore, +Whose hallow'd earth Anchises' bones contains, +And where a prince of Trojan lineage reigns?" +The course resolv'd, before the western wind +They scud amain, and make the port assign'd. +Meantime Acestes, from a lofty stand, +Beheld the fleet descending on the land; +And, not unmindful of his ancient race, +Down from the cliff he ran with eager pace, +And held the hero in a strict embrace. +Of a rough Libyan bear the spoils he wore, +And either hand a pointed jav'lin bore. +His mother was a dame of Dardan blood; +His sire Crinisus, a Sicilian flood. +He welcomes his returning friends ashore +With plenteous country cates and homely store. + +Now, when the following morn had chas'd away +The flying stars, and light restor'd the day, +Aeneas call'd the Trojan troops around, +And thus bespoke them from a rising ground: +"Offspring of heav'n, divine Dardanian race! +The sun, revolving thro' th' ethereal space, +The shining circle of the year has fill'd, +Since first this isle my father's ashes held: +And now the rising day renews the year; +A day for ever sad, for ever dear. +This would I celebrate with annual games, +With gifts on altars pil'd, and holy flames, +Tho' banish'd to Gaetulia's barren sands, +Caught on the Grecian seas, or hostile lands: +But since this happy storm our fleet has driv'n +(Not, as I deem, without the will of Heav'n) +Upon these friendly shores and flow'ry plains, +Which hide Anchises and his blest remains, +Let us with joy perform his honors due, +And pray for prosp'rous winds, our voyage to renew; +Pray, that in towns and temples of our own, +The name of great Anchises may be known, +And yearly games may spread the gods' renown. +Our sports Acestes, of the Trojan race, +With royal gifts ordain'd, is pleas'd to grace: +Two steers on ev'ry ship the king bestows; +His gods and ours shall share your equal vows. +Besides, if, nine days hence, the rosy morn +Shall with unclouded light the skies adorn, +That day with solemn sports I mean to grace: +Light galleys on the seas shall run a wat'ry race; +Some shall in swiftness for the goal contend, +And others try the twanging bow to bend; +The strong, with iron gauntlets arm'd, shall stand +Oppos'd in combat on the yellow sand. +Let all be present at the games prepar'd, +And joyful victors wait the just reward. +But now assist the rites, with garlands crown'd." +He said, and first his brows with myrtle bound. +Then Helymus, by his example led, +And old Acestes, each adorn'd his head; +Thus young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace, +His temples tied, and all the Trojan race. + Aeneas then advanc'd amidst the train, +By thousands follow'd thro' the flow'ry plain, +To great Anchises' tomb; which when he found, +He pour'd to Bacchus, on the hallow'd ground, +Two bowls of sparkling wine, of milk two more, +And two (from offer'd bulls) of purple gore, +With roses then the sepulcher he strow'd +And thus his father's ghost bespoke aloud: +"Hail, O ye holy manes! hail again, +Paternal ashes, now review'd in vain! +The gods permitted not, that you, with me, +Should reach the promis'd shores of Italy, +Or Tiber's flood, what flood soe'er it be." +Scarce had he finish'd, when, with speckled pride, +A serpent from the tomb began to glide; +His hugy bulk on sev'n high volumes roll'd; +Blue was his breadth of back, but streak'd with scaly gold: +Thus riding on his curls, he seem'd to pass +A rolling fire along, and singe the grass. +More various colors thro' his body run, +Than Iris when her bow imbibes the sun. +Betwixt the rising altars, and around, +The sacred monster shot along the ground; +With harmless play amidst the bowls he pass'd, +And with his lolling tongue assay'd the taste: +Thus fed with holy food, the wondrous guest +Within the hollow tomb retir'd to rest. +The pious prince, surpris'd at what he view'd, +The fun'ral honors with more zeal renew'd, +Doubtful if this place's genius were, +Or guardian of his father's sepulcher. +Five sheep, according to the rites, he slew; +As many swine, and steers of sable hue; +New gen'rous wine he from the goblets pour'd. +And call'd his father's ghost, from hell restor'd. +The glad attendants in long order come, +Off'ring their gifts at great Anchises' tomb: +Some add more oxen: some divide the spoil; +Some place the chargers on the grassy soil; +Some blow the fires, and off entrails broil. + +Now came the day desir'd. The skies were bright +With rosy luster of the rising light: +The bord'ring people, rous'd by sounding fame +Of Trojan feasts and great Acestes' name, +The crowded shore with acclamations fill, +Part to behold, and part to prove their skill. +And first the gifts in public view they place, +Green laurel wreaths, and palm, the victors' grace: +Within the circle, arms and tripods lie, +Ingots of gold and silver, heap'd on high, +And vests embroider'd, of the Tyrian dye. +The trumpet's clangor then the feast proclaims, +And all prepare for their appointed games. +Four galleys first, which equal rowers bear, +Advancing, in the wat'ry lists appear. +The speedy Dolphin, that outstrips the wind, +Bore Mnestheus, author of the Memmian kind: +Gyas the vast Chimaera's bulk commands, +Which rising, like a tow'ring city stands; +Three Trojans tug at ev'ry lab'ring oar; +Three banks in three degrees the sailors bore; +Beneath their sturdy strokes the billows roar. +Sergesthus, who began the Sergian race, +In the great Centaur took the leading place; +Cloanthus on the sea-green Scylla stood, +From whom Cluentius draws his Trojan blood. + +Far in the sea, against the foaming shore, +There stands a rock: the raging billows roar +Above his head in storms; but, when 't is clear, +Uncurl their ridgy backs, and at his foot appear. +In peace below the gentle waters run; +The cormorants above lie basking in the sun. +On this the hero fix'd an oak in sight, +The mark to guide the mariners aright. +To bear with this, the seamen stretch their oars; +Then round the rock they steer, and seek the former shores. +The lots decide their place. Above the rest, +Each leader shining in his Tyrian vest; +The common crew with wreaths of poplar boughs +Their temples crown, and shade their sweaty brows: +Besmear'd with oil, their naked shoulders shine. +All take their seats, and wait the sounding sign: +They gripe their oars; and ev'ry panting breast +Is rais'd by turns with hope, by turns with fear depress'd. +The clangor of the trumpet gives the sign; +At once they start, advancing in a line: +With shouts the sailors rend the starry skies; +Lash'd with their oars, the smoky billows rise; +Sparkles the briny main, and the vex'd ocean fries. +Exact in time, with equal strokes they row: +At once the brushing oars and brazen prow +Dash up the sandy waves, and ope the depths below. +Not fiery coursers, in a chariot race, +Invade the field with half so swift a pace; +Not the fierce driver with more fury lends +The sounding lash, and, ere the stroke descends, +Low to the wheels his pliant body bends. +The partial crowd their hopes and fears divide, +And aid with eager shouts the favor'd side. +Cries, murmurs, clamors, with a mixing sound, +From woods to woods, from hills to hills rebound. + +Amidst the loud applauses of the shore, +Gyas outstripp'd the rest, and sprung before: +Cloanthus, better mann'd, pursued him fast, +But his o'er-masted galley check'd his haste. +The Centaur and the Dolphin brush the brine +With equal oars, advancing in a line; +And now the mighty Centaur seems to lead, +And now the speedy Dolphin gets ahead; +Now board to board the rival vessels row, +The billows lave the skies, and ocean groans below. +They reach'd the mark. Proud Gyas and his train +In triumph rode, the victors of the main; +But, steering round, he charg'd his pilot stand +More close to shore, and skim along the sand- +"Let others bear to sea!" Menoetes heard; +But secret shelves too cautiously he fear'd, +And, fearing, sought the deep; and still aloof he steer'd. +With louder cries the captain call'd again: +"Bear to the rocky shore, and shun the main." +He spoke, and, speaking, at his stern he saw +The bold Cloanthus near the shelvings draw. +Betwixt the mark and him the Scylla stood, +And in a closer compass plow'd the flood. +He pass'd the mark; and, wheeling, got before: +Gyas blasphem'd the gods, devoutly swore, +Cried out for anger, and his hair he tore. +Mindless of others' lives (so high was grown +His rising rage) and careless of his own, +The trembling dotard to the deck he drew; +Then hoisted up, and overboard he threw: +This done, he seiz'd the helm; his fellows cheer'd, +Turn'd short upon the shelfs, and madly steer'd. + +Hardly his head the plunging pilot rears, +Clogg'd with his clothes, and cumber'd with his years: +Now dropping wet, he climbs the cliff with pain. +The crowd, that saw him fall and float again, +Shout from the distant shore; and loudly laugh'd, +To see his heaving breast disgorge the briny draught. +The following Centaur, and the Dolphin's crew, +Their vanish'd hopes of victory renew; +While Gyas lags, they kindle in the race, +To reach the mark. Sergesthus takes the place; +Mnestheus pursues; and while around they wind, +Comes up, not half his galley's length behind; +Then, on the deck, amidst his mates appear'd, +And thus their drooping courage he cheer'd: +"My friends, and Hector's followers heretofore, +Exert your vigor; tug the lab'ring oar; +Stretch to your strokes, my still unconquer'd crew, +Whom from the flaming walls of Troy I drew. +In this, our common int'rest, let me find +That strength of hand, that courage of the mind, +As when you stemm'd the strong Malean flood, +And o'er the Syrtes' broken billows row'd. +I seek not now the foremost palm to gain; +Tho' yet- but, ah! that haughty wish is vain! +Let those enjoy it whom the gods ordain. +But to be last, the lags of all the race!- +Redeem yourselves and me from that disgrace." +Now, one and all, they tug amain; they row +At the full stretch, and shake the brazen prow. +The sea beneath 'em sinks; their lab'ring sides +Are swell'd, and sweat runs gutt'ring down in tides. +Chance aids their daring with unhop'd success; +Sergesthus, eager with his beak to press +Betwixt the rival galley and the rock, +Shuts up th' unwieldly Centaur in the lock. +The vessel struck; and, with the dreadful shock, +Her oars she shiver'd, and her head she broke. +The trembling rowers from their banks arise, +And, anxious for themselves, renounce the prize. +With iron poles they heave her off the shores, +And gather from the sea their floating oars. +The crew of Mnestheus, with elated minds, +Urge their success, and call the willing winds; +Then ply their oars, and cut their liquid way +In larger compass on the roomy sea. +As, when the dove her rocky hold forsakes, +Rous'd in a fright, her sounding wings she shakes; +The cavern rings with clatt'ring; out she flies, +And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the skies: +At first she flutters; but at length she springs +To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings: +So Mnestheus in the Dolphin cuts the sea; +And, flying with a force, that force assists his way. +Sergesthus in the Centaur soon he pass'd, +Wedg'd in the rocky shoals, and sticking fast. +In vain the victor he with cries implores, +And practices to row with shatter'd oars. +Then Mnestheus bears with Gyas, and outflies: +The ship, without a pilot, yields the prize. +Unvanquish'd Scylla now alone remains; +Her he pursues, and all his vigor strains. +Shouts from the fav'ring multitude arise; +Applauding Echo to the shouts replies; +Shouts, wishes, and applause run rattling thro' the skies. +These clamors with disdain the Scylla heard, +Much grudg'd the praise, but more the robb'd reward: +Resolv'd to hold their own, they mend their pace, +All obstinate to die, or gain the race. +Rais'd with success, the Dolphin swiftly ran; +For they can conquer, who believe they can. +Both urge their oars, and fortune both supplies, +And both perhaps had shar'd an equal prize; +When to the seas Cloanthus holds his hands, +And succor from the wat'ry pow'rs demands: +"Gods of the liquid realms, on which I row! +If, giv'n by you, the laurel bind my brow, +Assist to make me guilty of my vow! +A snow-white bull shall on your shore be slain; +His offer'd entrails cast into the main, +And ruddy wine, from golden goblets thrown, +Your grateful gift and my return shall own." +The choir of nymphs, and Phorcus, from below, +With virgin Panopea, heard his vow; +And old Portunus, with his breadth of hand, +Push'd on, and sped the galley to the land. +Swift as a shaft, or winged wind, she flies, +And, darting to the port, obtains the prize. + +The herald summons all, and then proclaims +Cloanthus conqu'ror of the naval games. +The prince with laurel crowns the victor's head, +And three fat steers are to his vessel led, +The ship's reward; with gen'rous wine beside, +And sums of silver, which the crew divide. +The leaders are distinguish'd from the rest; +The victor honor'd with a nobler vest, +Where gold and purple strive in equal rows, +And needlework its happy cost bestows. +There Ganymede is wrought with living art, +Chasing thro' Ida's groves the trembling hart: +Breathless he seems, yet eager to pursue; +When from aloft descends, in open view, +The bird of Jove, and, sousing on his prey, +With crooked talons bears the boy away. +In vain, with lifted hands and gazing eyes, +His guards behold him soaring thro' the skies, +And dogs pursue his flight with imitated cries. + +Mnestheus the second victor was declar'd; +And, summon'd there, the second prize he shard. +A coat of mail, brave Demoleus bore, +More brave Aeneas from his shoulders tore, +In single combat on the Trojan shore: +This was ordain'd for Mnestheus to possess; +In war for his defense, for ornament in peace. +Rich was the gift, and glorious to behold, +But yet so pond'rous with its plates of gold, +That scarce two servants could the weight sustain; +Yet, loaded thus, Demoleus o'er the plain +Pursued and lightly seiz'd the Trojan train. +The third, succeeding to the last reward, +Two goodly bowls of massy silver shar'd, +With figures prominent, and richly wrought, +And two brass caldrons from Dodona brought. + +Thus all, rewarded by the hero's hands, +Their conqu'ring temples bound with purple bands; +And now Sergesthus, clearing from the rock, +Brought back his galley shatter'd with the shock. +Forlorn she look'd, without an aiding oar, +And, houted by the vulgar, made to shore. +As when a snake, surpris'd upon the road, +Is crush'd athwart her body by the load +Of heavy wheels; or with a mortal wound +Her belly bruis'd, and trodden to the ground: +In vain, with loosen'd curls, she crawls along; +Yet, fierce above, she brandishes her tongue; +Glares with her eyes, and bristles with her scales; +But, groveling in the dust, her parts unsound she trails: +So slowly to the port the Centaur tends, +But, what she wants in oars, with sails amends. +Yet, for his galley sav'd, the grateful prince +Is pleas'd th' unhappy chief to recompense. +Pholoe, the Cretan slave, rewards his care, +Beauteous herself, with lovely twins as fair. + +From thence his way the Trojan hero bent +Into the neighb'ring plain, with mountains pent, +Whose sides were shaded with surrounding wood. +Full in the midst of this fair valley stood +A native theater, which, rising slow +By just degrees, o'erlook'd the ground below. +High on a sylvan throne the leader sate; +A num'rous train attend in solemn state. +Here those that in the rapid course delight, +Desire of honor and the prize invite. +The rival runners without order stand; +The Trojans mix'd with the Sicilian band. +First Nisus, with Euryalus, appears; +Euryalus a boy of blooming years, +With sprightly grace and equal beauty crown'd; +Nisus, for friendship to the youth renown'd. +Diores next, of Priam's royal race, +Then Salius joined with Patron, took their place; +(But Patron in Arcadia had his birth, +And Salius his from Arcananian earth;) +Then two Sicilian youths- the names of these, +Swift Helymus, and lovely Panopes: +Both jolly huntsmen, both in forest bred, +And owning old Acestes for their head; +With sev'ral others of ignobler name, +Whom time has not deliver'd o'er to fame. + +To these the hero thus his thoughts explain'd, +In words which gen'ral approbation gain'd: +"One common largess is for all design'd, +(The vanquish'd and the victor shall be join'd,) +Two darts of polish'd steel and Gnosian wood, +A silver-studded ax, alike bestow'd. +The foremost three have olive wreaths decreed: +The first of these obtains a stately steed, +Adorn'd with trappings; and the next in fame, +The quiver of an Amazonian dame, +With feather'd Thracian arrows well supplied: +A golden belt shall gird his manly side, +Which with a sparkling diamond shall be tied. +The third this Grecian helmet shall content." +He said. To their appointed base they went; +With beating hearts th' expected sign receive, +And, starting all at once, the barrier leave. +Spread out, as on the winged winds, they flew, +And seiz'd the distant goal with greedy view. +Shot from the crowd, swift Nisus all o'erpass'd; +Nor storms, nor thunder, equal half his haste. +The next, but tho' the next, yet far disjoin'd, +Came Salius, and Euryalus behind; +Then Helymus, whom young Diores plied, +Step after step, and almost side by side, +His shoulders pressing; and, in longer space, +Had won, or left at least a dubious race. + +Now, spent, the goal they almost reach at last, +When eager Nisus, hapless in his haste, +Slipp'd first, and, slipping, fell upon the plain, +Soak'd with the blood of oxen newly slain. +The careless victor had not mark'd his way; +But, treading where the treach'rous puddle lay, +His heels flew up; and on the grassy floor +He fell, besmear'd with filth and holy gore. +Not mindless then, Euryalus, of thee, +Nor of the sacred bonds of amity, +He strove th' immediate rival's hope to cross, +And caught the foot of Salius as he rose. +So Salius lay extended on the plain; +Euryalus springs out, the prize to gain, +And leaves the crowd: applauding peals attend +The victor to the goal, who vanquish'd by his friend. +Next Helymus; and then Diores came, +By two misfortunes made the third in fame. + +But Salius enters, and, exclaiming loud +For justice, deafens and disturbs the crowd; +Urges his cause may in the court be heard; +And pleads the prize is wrongfully conferr'd. +But favor for Euryalus appears; +His blooming beauty, with his tender tears, +Had brib'd the judges for the promis'd prize. +Besides, Diores fills the court with cries, +Who vainly reaches at the last reward, +If the first palm on Salius be conferr'd. +Then thus the prince: "Let no disputes arise: +Where fortune plac'd it, I award the prize. +But fortune's errors give me leave to mend, +At least to pity my deserving friend." +He said, and, from among the spoils, he draws +(Pond'rous with shaggy mane and golden paws) +A lion's hide: to Salius this he gives. +Nisus with envy sees the gift, and grieves. +"If such rewards to vanquish'd men are due." +He said, "and falling is to rise by you, +What prize may Nisus from your bounty claim, +Who merited the first rewards and fame? +In falling, both an equal fortune tried; +Would fortune for my fall so well provide!" +With this he pointed to his face, and show'd +His hand and all his habit smear'd with blood. +Th' indulgent father of the people smil'd, +And caus'd to be produc'd an ample shield, +Of wondrous art, by Didymaon wrought, +Long since from Neptune's bars in triumph brought. +This giv'n to Nisus, he divides the rest, +And equal justice in his gifts express'd. + +The race thus ended, and rewards bestow'd, +Once more the princes bespeaks th' attentive crowd: +"If there he here whose dauntless courage dare +In gauntlet-fight, with limbs and body bare, +His opposite sustain in open view, +Stand forth the champion, and the games renew. +Two prizes I propose, and thus divide: +A bull with gilded horns, and fillets tied, +Shall be the portion of the conqu'ring chief; +A sword and helm shall cheer the loser's grief." + +Then haughty Dares in the lists appears; +Stalking he strides, his head erected bears: +His nervous arms the weighty gauntlet wield, +And loud applauses echo thro' the field. +Dares alone in combat us'd to stand +The match of mighty Paris, hand to hand; +The same, at Hector's fun'rals, undertook +Gigantic Butes, of th' Amycian stock, +And, by the stroke of his resistless hand, +Stretch'd the vast bulk upon the yellow sand. +Such Dares was; and such he strode along, +And drew the wonder of the gazing throng. +His brawny back and ample breast he shows, +His lifted arms around his head he throws, +And deals in whistling air his empty blows. +His match is sought; but, thro' the trembling band, +Not one dares answer to the proud demand. +Presuming of his force, with sparkling eyes +Already he devours the promis'd prize. +He claims the bull with awless insolence, +And having seiz'd his horns, accosts the prince: +"If none my matchless valor dares oppose, +How long shall Dares wait his dastard foes? +Permit me, chief, permit without delay, +To lead this uncontended gift away." +The crowd assents, and with redoubled cries +For the proud challenger demands the prize. + +Acestes, fir'd with just disdain, to see +The palm usurp'd without a victory, +Reproach'd Entellus thus, who sate beside, +And heard and saw, unmov'd, the Trojan's pride: +"Once, but in vain, a champion of renown, +So tamely can you bear the ravish'd crown, +A prize in triumph borne before your sight, +And shun, for fear, the danger of the fight? +Where is our Eryx now, the boasted name, +The god who taught your thund'ring arm the game? +Where now your baffled honor? Where the spoil +That fill'd your house, and fame that fill'd our isle?" +Entellus, thus: "My soul is still the same, +Unmov'd with fear, and mov'd with martial fame; +But my chill blood is curdled in my veins, +And scarce the shadow of a man remains. +O could I turn to that fair prime again, +That prime of which this boaster is so vain, +The brave, who this decrepid age defies, +Should feel my force, without the promis'd prize." + +He said; and, rising at the word, he threw +Two pond'rous gauntlets down in open view; +Gauntlets which Eryx wont in fight to wield, +And sheathe his hands with in the listed field. +With fear and wonder seiz'd, the crowd beholds +The gloves of death, with sev'n distinguish'd folds +Of tough bull hides; the space within is spread +With iron, or with loads of heavy lead: +Dares himself was daunted at the sight, +Renounc'd his challenge, and refus'd to fight. +Astonish'd at their weight, the hero stands, +And pois'd the pond'rous engines in his hands. +"What had your wonder," said Entellus, "been, +Had you the gauntlets of Alcides seen, +Or view'd the stern debate on this unhappy green! +These which I bear your brother Eryx bore, +Still mark'd with batter'd brains and mingled gore. +With these he long sustain'd th' Herculean arm; +And these I wielded while my blood was warm, +This languish'd frame while better spirits fed, +Ere age unstrung my nerves, or time o'ersnow'd my head. +But if the challenger these arms refuse, +And cannot wield their weight, or dare not use; +If great Aeneas and Acestes join +In his request, these gauntlets I resign; +Let us with equal arms perform the fight, +And let him leave to fear, since I resign my right." + +This said, Entellus for the strife prepares; +Stripp'd of his quilted coat, his body bares; +Compos'd of mighty bones and brawn he stands, +A goodly tow'ring object on the sands. +Then just Aeneas equal arms supplied, +Which round their shoulders to their wrists they tied. +Both on the tiptoe stand, at full extent, +Their arms aloft, their bodies inly bent; +Their heads from aiming blows they bear afar; +With clashing gauntlets then provoke the war. +One on his youth and pliant limbs relies; +One on his sinews and his giant size. +The last is stiff with age, his motion slow; +He heaves for breath, he staggers to and fro, +And clouds of issuing smoke his nostrils loudly blow. +Yet equal in success, they ward, they strike; +Their ways are diff'rent, but their art alike. +Before, behind, the blows are dealt; around +Their hollow sides the rattling thumps resound. +A storm of strokes, well meant, with fury flies, +And errs about their temples, ears, and eyes. +Nor always errs; for oft the gauntlet draws +A sweeping stroke along the crackling jaws. +Heavy with age, Entellus stands his ground, +But with his warping body wards the wound. +His hand and watchful eye keep even pace; +While Dares traverses and shifts his place, +And, like a captain who beleaguers round +Some strong-built castle on a rising ground, +Views all th' approaches with observing eyes: +This and that other part in vain he tries, +And more on industry than force relies. +With hands on high, Entellus threats the foe; +But Dares watch'd the motion from below, +And slipp'd aside, and shunn'd the long descending blow. +Entellus wastes his forces on the wind, +And, thus deluded of the stroke design'd, +Headlong and heavy fell; his ample breast +And weighty limbs his ancient mother press'd. +So falls a hollow pine, that long had stood +On Ida's height, or Erymanthus' wood, +Torn from the roots. The diff'ring nations rise, +And shouts and mingled murmurs rend the skies, +Acestus runs with eager haste, to raise +The fall'n companion of his youthful days. +Dauntless he rose, and to the fight return'd; +With shame his glowing cheeks, his eyes with fury burn'd. +Disdain and conscious virtue fir'd his breast, +And with redoubled force his foe he press'd. +He lays on load with either hand, amain, +And headlong drives the Trojan o'er the plain; +Nor stops, nor stays; nor rest nor breath allows; +But storms of strokes descend about his brows, +A rattling tempest, and a hail of blows. +But now the prince, who saw the wild increase +Of wounds, commands the combatants to cease, +And bounds Entellus' wrath, and bids the peace. +First to the Trojan, spent with toil, he came, +And sooth'd his sorrow for the suffer'd shame. +"What fury seiz'd my friend? The gods," said he, +"To him propitious, and averse to thee, +Have giv'n his arm superior force to thine. +'T is madness to contend with strength divine." +The gauntlet fight thus ended, from the shore +His faithful friends unhappy Dares bore: +His mouth and nostrils pour'd a purple flood, +And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood. +Faintly he stagger'd thro' the hissing throng, +And hung his head, and trail'd his legs along. +The sword and casque are carried by his train; +But with his foe the palm and ox remain. + +The champion, then, before Aeneas came, +Proud of his prize, but prouder of his fame: +"O goddess-born, and you, Dardanian host, +Mark with attention, and forgive my boast; +Learn what I was, by what remains; and know +From what impending fate you sav'd my foe." +Sternly he spoke, and then confronts the bull; +And, on his ample forehead aiming full, +The deadly stroke, descending, pierc'd the skull. +Down drops the beast, nor needs a second wound, +But sprawls in pangs of death, and spurns the ground. +Then, thus: "In Dares' stead I offer this. +Eryx, accept a nobler sacrifice; +Take the last gift my wither'd arms can yield: +Thy gauntlets I resign, and here renounce the field." + +This done, Aeneas orders, for the close, +The strife of archers with contending bows. +The mast Sergesthus' shatter'd galley bore +With his own hands he raises on the shore. +A flutt'ring dove upon the top they tie, +The living mark at which their arrows fly. +The rival archers in a line advance, +Their turn of shooting to receive from chance. +A helmet holds their names; the lots are drawn: +On the first scroll was read Hippocoon. +The people shout. Upon the next was found +Young Mnestheus, late with naval honors crown'd. +The third contain'd Eurytion's noble name, +Thy brother, Pandarus, and next in fame, +Whom Pallas urg'd the treaty to confound, +And send among the Greeks a feather'd wound. +Acestes in the bottom last remain'd, +Whom not his age from youthful sports restrain'd. +Soon all with vigor bend their trusty bows, +And from the quiver each his arrow chose. +Hippocoon's was the first: with forceful sway +It flew, and, whizzing, cut the liquid way. +Fix'd in the mast the feather'd weapon stands: +The fearful pigeon flutters in her bands, +And the tree trembled, and the shouting cries +Of the pleas'd people rend the vaulted skies. +Then Mnestheus to the head his arrow drove, +With lifted eyes, and took his aim above, +But made a glancing shot, and missed the dove; +Yet miss'd so narrow, that he cut the cord +Which fasten'd by the foot the flitting bird. +The captive thus releas'd, away she flies, +And beats with clapping wings the yielding skies. +His bow already bent, Eurytion stood; +And, having first invok'd his brother god, +His winged shaft with eager haste he sped. +The fatal message reach'd her as she fled: +She leaves her life aloft; she strikes the ground, +And renders back the weapon in the wound. +Acestes, grudging at his lot, remains, +Without a prize to gratify his pains. +Yet, shooting upward, sends his shaft, to show +An archer's art, and boast his twanging bow. +The feather'd arrow gave a dire portent, +And latter augurs judge from this event. +Chaf'd by the speed, it fir'd; and, as it flew, +A trail of following flames ascending drew: +Kindling they mount, and mark the shiny way; +Across the skies as falling meteors play, +And vanish into wind, or in a blaze decay. +The Trojans and Sicilians wildly stare, +And, trembling, turn their wonder into pray'r. +The Dardan prince put on a smiling face, +And strain'd Acestes with a close embrace; +Then, hon'ring him with gifts above the rest, +Turn'd the bad omen, nor his fears confess'd. +"The gods," said he, "this miracle have wrought, +And order'd you the prize without the lot. +Accept this goblet, rough with figur'd gold, +Which Thracian Cisseus gave my sire of old: +This pledge of ancient amity receive, +Which to my second sire I justly give." +He said, and, with the trumpets' cheerful sound, +Proclaim'd him victor, and with laurel-crown'd. +Nor good Eurytion envied him the prize, +Tho' he transfix'd the pigeon in the skies. +Who cut the line, with second gifts was grac'd; +The third was his whose arrow pierc'd the mast. + +The chief, before the games were wholly done, +Call'd Periphantes, tutor to his son, +And whisper'd thus: "With speed Ascanius find; +And, if his childish troop be ready join'd, +On horseback let him grace his grandsire's day, +And lead his equals arm'd in just array." +He said; and, calling out, the cirque he clears. +The crowd withdrawn, an open plain appears. +And now the noble youths, of form divine, +Advance before their fathers, in a line; +The riders grace the steeds; the steeds with glory shine. + +Thus marching on in military pride, +Shouts of applause resound from side to side. +Their casques adorn'd with laurel wreaths they wear, +Each brandishing aloft a cornel spear. +Some at their backs their gilded quivers bore; +Their chains of burnish'd gold hung down before. +Three graceful troops they form'd upon the green; +Three graceful leaders at their head were seen; +Twelve follow'd ev'ry chief, and left a space between. +The first young Priam led; a lovely boy, +Whose grandsire was th' unhappy king of Troy; +His race in after times was known to fame, +New honors adding to the Latian name; +And well the royal boy his Thracian steed became. +White were the fetlocks of his feet before, +And on his front a snowy star he bore. +Then beauteous Atys, with Iulus bred, +Of equal age, the second squadron led. +The last in order, but the first in place, +First in the lovely features of his face, +Rode fair Ascanius on a fiery steed, +Queen Dido's gift, and of the Tyrian breed. +Sure coursers for the rest the king ordains, +With golden bits adorn'd, and purple reins. + +The pleas'd spectators peals of shouts renew, +And all the parents in the children view; +Their make, their motions, and their sprightly grace, +And hopes and fears alternate in their face. + +Th' unfledg'd commanders and their martial train +First make the circuit of the sandy plain +Around their sires, and, at th' appointed sign, +Drawn up in beauteous order, form a line. +The second signal sounds, the troop divides +In three distinguish'd parts, with three distinguish'd guides +Again they close, and once again disjoin; +In troop to troop oppos'd, and line to line. +They meet; they wheel; they throw their darts afar +With harmless rage and well-dissembled war. +Then in a round the mingled bodies run: +Flying they follow, and pursuing shun; +Broken, they break; and, rallying, they renew +In other forms the military shew. +At last, in order, undiscern'd they join, +And march together in a friendly line. +And, as the Cretan labyrinth of old, +With wand'ring ways and many a winding fold, +Involv'd the weary feet, without redress, +In a round error, which denied recess; +So fought the Trojan boys in warlike play, +Turn'd and return'd, and still a diff'rent way. +Thus dolphins in the deep each other chase +In circles, when they swim around the wat'ry race. +This game, these carousels, Ascanius taught; +And, building Alba, to the Latins brought; +Shew'd what he learn'd: the Latin sires impart +To their succeeding sons the graceful art; +From these imperial Rome receiv'd the game, +Which Troy, the youths the Trojan troop, they name. + +Thus far the sacred sports they celebrate: +But Fortune soon resum'd her ancient hate; +For, while they pay the dead his annual dues, +Those envied rites Saturnian Juno views; +And sends the goddess of the various bow, +To try new methods of revenge below; +Supplies the winds to wing her airy way, +Where in the port secure the navy lay. +Swiftly fair Iris down her arch descends, +And, undiscern'd, her fatal voyage ends. +She saw the gath'ring crowd; and, gliding thence, +The desart shore, and fleet without defense. +The Trojan matrons, on the sands alone, +With sighs and tears Anchises' death bemoan; +Then, turning to the sea their weeping eyes, +Their pity to themselves renews their cries. +"Alas!" said one, "what oceans yet remain +For us to sail! what labors to sustain!" +All take the word, and, with a gen'ral groan, +Implore the gods for peace, and places of their own. + +The goddess, great in mischief, views their pains, +And in a woman's form her heav'nly limbs restrains. +In face and shape old Beroe she became, +Doryclus' wife, a venerable dame, +Once blest with riches, and a mother's name. +Thus chang'd, amidst the crying crowd she ran, +Mix'd with the matrons, and these words began: +"O wretched we, whom not the Grecian pow'r, +Nor flames, destroy'd, in Troy's unhappy hour! +O wretched we, reserv'd by cruel fate, +Beyond the ruins of the sinking state! +Now sev'n revolving years are wholly run, +Since this improsp'rous voyage we begun; +Since, toss'd from shores to shores, from lands to lands, +Inhospitable rocks and barren sands, +Wand'ring in exile thro' the stormy sea, +We search in vain for flying Italy. +Now cast by fortune on this kindred land, +What should our rest and rising walls withstand, +Or hinder here to fix our banish'd band? +O country lost, and gods redeem'd in vain, +If still in endless exile we remain! +Shall we no more the Trojan walls renew, +Or streams of some dissembled Simois view! +Haste, join with me, th' unhappy fleet consume! +Cassandra bids; and I declare her doom. +In sleep I saw her; she supplied my hands +(For this I more than dreamt) with flaming brands: +'With these,' said she, 'these wand'ring ships destroy: +These are your fatal seats, and this your Troy.' +Time calls you now; the precious hour employ: +Slack not the good presage, while Heav'n inspires +Our minds to dare, and gives the ready fires. +See! Neptune's altars minister their brands: +The god is pleas'd; the god supplies our hands." +Then from the pile a flaming fire she drew, +And, toss'd in air, amidst the galleys threw. + +Wrapp'd in amaze, the matrons wildly stare: +Then Pyrgo, reverenc'd for her hoary hair, +Pyrgo, the nurse of Priam's num'rous race: +"No Beroe this, tho' she belies her face! +What terrors from her frowning front arise! +Behold a goddess in her ardent eyes! +What rays around her heav'nly face are seen! +Mark her majestic voice, and more than mortal mien! +Beroe but now I left, whom, pin'd with pain, +Her age and anguish from these rites detain," +She said. The matrons, seiz'd with new amaze, +Roll their malignant eyes, and on the navy gaze. +They fear, and hope, and neither part obey: +They hope the fated land, but fear the fatal way. +The goddess, having done her task below, +Mounts up on equal wings, and bends her painted bow. +Struck with the sight, and seiz'd with rage divine, +The matrons prosecute their mad design: +They shriek aloud; they snatch, with impious hands, +The food of altars; fires and flaming brands. +Green boughs and saplings, mingled in their haste, +And smoking torches, on the ships they cast. +The flame, unstopp'd at first, more fury gains, +And Vulcan rides at large with loosen'd reins: +Triumphant to the painted sterns he soars, +And seizes, in this way, the banks and crackling oars. +Eumelus was the first the news to bear, +While yet they crowd the rural theater. +Then, what they hear, is witness'd by their eyes: +A storm of sparkles and of flames arise. +Ascanius took th' alarm, while yet he led +His early warriors on his prancing steed, +And, spurring on, his equals soon o'erpass'd; +Nor could his frighted friends reclaim his haste. +Soon as the royal youth appear'd in view, +He sent his voice before him as he flew: +"What madness moves you, matrons, to destroy +The last remainders of unhappy Troy! +Not hostile fleets, but your own hopes, you burn, +And on your friends your fatal fury turn. +Behold your own Ascanius!" While he said, +He drew his glitt'ring helmet from his head, +In which the youths to sportful arms he led. +By this, Aeneas and his train appear; +And now the women, seiz'd with shame and fear, +Dispers'd, to woods and caverns take their flight, +Abhor their actions, and avoid the light; +Their friends acknowledge, and their error find, +And shake the goddess from their alter'd mind. + +Not so the raging fires their fury cease, +But, lurking in the seams, with seeming peace, +Work on their way amid the smold'ring tow, +Sure in destruction, but in motion slow. +The silent plague thro' the green timber eats, +And vomits out a tardy flame by fits. +Down to the keels, and upward to the sails, +The fire descends, or mounts, but still prevails; +Nor buckets pour'd, nor strength of human hand, +Can the victorious element withstand. + +The pious hero rends his robe, and throws +To heav'n his hands, and with his hands his vows. +"O Jove," he cried, "if pray'rs can yet have place; +If thou abhorr'st not all the Dardan race; +If any spark of pity still remain; +If gods are gods, and not invok'd in vain; +Yet spare the relics of the Trojan train! +Yet from the flames our burning vessels free, +Or let thy fury fall alone on me! +At this devoted head thy thunder throw, +And send the willing sacrifice below!" + +Scarce had he said, when southern storms arise: +From pole to pole the forky lightning flies; +Loud rattling shakes the mountains and the plain; +Heav'n bellies downward, and descends in rain. +Whole sheets of water from the clouds are sent, +Which, hissing thro' the planks, the flames prevent, +And stop the fiery pest. Four ships alone +Burn to the waist, and for the fleet atone. + +But doubtful thoughts the hero's heart divide; +If he should still in Sicily reside, +Forgetful of his fates, or tempt the main, +In hope the promis'd Italy to gain. +Then Nautes, old and wise, to whom alone +The will of Heav'n by Pallas was foreshown; +Vers'd in portents, experienc'd, and inspir'd +To tell events, and what the fates requir'd; +Thus while he stood, to neither part inclin'd, +With cheerful words reliev'd his lab'ring mind: +"O goddess-born, resign'd in ev'ry state, +With patience bear, with prudence push your fate. +By suff'ring well, our Fortune we subdue; +Fly when she frowns, and, when she calls, pursue. +Your friend Acestes is of Trojan kind; +To him disclose the secrets of your mind: +Trust in his hands your old and useless train; +Too num'rous for the ships which yet remain: +The feeble, old, indulgent of their ease, +The dames who dread the dangers of the seas, +With all the dastard crew, who dare not stand +The shock of battle with your foes by land. +Here you may build a common town for all, +And, from Acestes' name, Acesta call." +The reasons, with his friend's experience join'd, +Encourag'd much, but more disturb'd his mind. + +'T was dead of night; when to his slumb'ring eyes +His father's shade descended from the skies, +And thus he spoke: "O more than vital breath, +Lov'd while I liv'd, and dear ev'n after death; +O son, in various toils and troubles toss'd, +The King of Heav'n employs my careful ghost +On his commands: the god, who sav'd from fire +Your flaming fleet, and heard your just desire. +The wholesome counsel of your friend receive, +And here the coward train and woman leave: +The chosen youth, and those who nobly dare, +Transport, to tempt the dangers of the war. +The stern Italians will their courage try; +Rough are their manners, and their minds are high. +But first to Pluto's palace you shall go, +And seek my shade among the blest below: +For not with impious ghosts my soul remains, +Nor suffers with the damn'd perpetual pains, +But breathes the living air of soft Elysian plains. +The chaste Sibylla shall your steps convey, +And blood of offer'd victims free the way. +There shall you know what realms the gods assign, +And learn the fates and fortunes of your line. +But now, farewell! I vanish with the night, +And feel the blast of heav'n's approaching light." +He said, and mix'd with shades, and took his airy flight. +"Whither so fast?" the filial duty cried; +"And why, ah why, the wish'd embrace denied?" + +He said, and rose; as holy zeal inspires, +He rakes hot embers, and renews the fires; +His country gods and Vesta then adores +With cakes and incense, and their aid implores. +Next, for his friends and royal host he sent, +Reveal'd his vision, and the gods' intent, +With his own purpose. All, without delay, +The will of Jove, and his desires obey. +They list with women each degenerate name, +Who dares not hazard life for future fame. +These they cashier: the brave remaining few, +Oars, banks, and cables, half consum'd, renew. +The prince designs a city with the plow; +The lots their sev'ral tenements allow. +This part is nam'd from Ilium, that from Troy, +And the new king ascends the throne with joy; +A chosen senate from the people draws; +Appoints the judges, and ordains the laws. +Then, on the top of Eryx, they begin +A rising temple to the Paphian queen. +Anchises, last, is honor'd as a god; +A priest is added, annual gifts bestow'd, +And groves are planted round his blest abode. +Nine days they pass in feasts, their temples crown'd; +And fumes of incense in the fanes abound. +Then from the south arose a gentle breeze +That curl'd the smoothness of the glassy seas; +The rising winds a ruffling gale afford, +And call the merry mariners aboard. + +Now loud laments along the shores resound, +Of parting friends in close embraces bound. +The trembling women, the degenerate train, +Who shunn'd the frightful dangers of the main, +Ev'n those desire to sail, and take their share +Of the rough passage and the promis'd war: +Whom good Aeneas cheers, and recommends +To their new master's care his fearful friends. +On Eryx's altars three fat calves he lays; +A lamb new-fallen to the stormy seas; +Then slips his haulsers, and his anchors weighs. +High on the deck the godlike hero stands, +With olive crown'd, a charger in his hands; +Then cast the reeking entrails in the brine, +And pour'd the sacrifice of purple wine. +Fresh gales arise; with equal strokes they vie, +And brush the buxom seas, and o'er the billows fly. + +Meantime the mother goddess, full of fears, +To Neptune thus address'd, with tender tears: +"The pride of Jove's imperious queen, the rage, +The malice which no suff'rings can assuage, +Compel me to these pray'rs; since neither fate, +Nor time, nor pity, can remove her hate: +Ev'n Jove is thwarted by his haughty wife; +Still vanquish'd, yet she still renews the strife. +As if 't were little to consume the town +Which aw'd the world, and wore th' imperial crown, +She prosecutes the ghost of Troy with pains, +And gnaws, ev'n to the bones, the last remains. +Let her the causes of her hatred tell; +But you can witness its effects too well. +You saw the storm she rais'd on Libyan floods, +That mix'd the mounting billows with the clouds; +When, bribing Aeolus, she shook the main, +And mov'd rebellion in your wat'ry reign. +With fury she possess'd the Dardan dames, +To burn their fleet with execrable flames, +And forc'd Aeneas, when his ships were lost, +To leave his foll'wers on a foreign coast. +For what remains, your godhead I implore, +And trust my son to your protecting pow'r. +If neither Jove's nor Fate's decree withstand, +Secure his passage to the Latian land." + +Then thus the mighty Ruler of the Main: +"What may not Venus hope from Neptune's reign? +My kingdom claims your birth; my late defense +Of your indanger'd fleet may claim your confidence. +Nor less by land than sea my deeds declare +How much your lov'd Aeneas is my care. +Thee, Xanthus, and thee, Simois, I attest. +Your Trojan troops when proud Achilles press'd, +And drove before him headlong on the plain, +And dash'd against the walls the trembling train; +When floods were fill'd with bodies of the slain; +When crimson Xanthus, doubtful of his way, +Stood up on ridges to behold the sea; +(New heaps came tumbling in, and chok'd his way;) +When your Aeneas fought, but fought with odds +Of force unequal, and unequal gods; +I spread a cloud before the victor's sight, +Sustain'd the vanquish'd, and secur'd his flight; +Ev'n then secur'd him, when I sought with joy +The vow'd destruction of ungrateful Troy. +My will's the same: fair goddess, fear no more, +Your fleet shall safely gain the Latian shore; +Their lives are giv'n; one destin'd head alone +Shall perish, and for multitudes atone." +Thus having arm'd with hopes her anxious mind, +His finny team Saturnian Neptune join'd, +Then adds the foamy bridle to their jaws, +And to the loosen'd reins permits the laws. +High on the waves his azure car he guides; +Its axles thunder, and the sea subsides, +And the smooth ocean rolls her silent tides. +The tempests fly before their father's face, +Trains of inferior gods his triumph grace, +And monster whales before their master play, +And choirs of Tritons crowd the wat'ry way. +The marshal'd pow'rs in equal troops divide +To right and left; the gods his better side +Inclose, and on the worse the Nymphs and Nereids ride. + +Now smiling hope, with sweet vicissitude, +Within the hero's mind his joys renew'd. +He calls to raise the masts, the sheets display; +The cheerful crew with diligence obey; +They scud before the wind, and sail in open sea. +Ahead of all the master pilot steers; +And, as he leads, the following navy veers. +The steeds of Night had travel'd half the sky, +The drowsy rowers on their benches lie, +When the soft God of Sleep, with easy flight, +Descends, and draws behind a trail of light. +Thou, Palinurus, art his destin'd prey; +To thee alone he takes his fatal way. +Dire dreams to thee, and iron sleep, he bears; +And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phorbas wears. +Then thus the traitor god began his tale: +"The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale; +The ships, without thy care, securely sail. +Now steal an hour of sweet repose; and I +Will take the rudder and thy room supply." +To whom the yawning pilot, half asleep: +"Me dost thou bid to trust the treach'rous deep, +The harlot smiles of her dissembling face, +And to her faith commit the Trojan race? +Shall I believe the Siren South again, +And, oft betray'd, not know the monster main?" +He said: his fasten'd hands the rudder keep, +And, fix'd on heav'n, his eyes repel invading sleep. +The god was wroth, and at his temples threw +A branch in Lethe dipp'd, and drunk with Stygian dew: +The pilot, vanquish'd by the pow'r divine, +Soon clos'd his swimming eyes, and lay supine. +Scarce were his limbs extended at their length, +The god, insulting with superior strength, +Fell heavy on him, plung'd him in the sea, +And, with the stern, the rudder tore away. +Headlong he fell, and, struggling in the main, +Cried out for helping hands, but cried in vain. +The victor daemon mounts obscure in air, +While the ship sails without the pilot's care. +On Neptune's faith the floating fleet relies; +But what the man forsook, the god supplies, +And o'er the dang'rous deep secure the navy flies; +Glides by the Sirens' cliffs, a shelfy coast, +Long infamous for ships and sailors lost, +And white with bones. Th' impetuous ocean roars, +And rocks rebellow from the sounding shores. +The watchful hero felt the knocks, and found +The tossing vessel sail'd on shoaly ground. +Sure of his pilot's loss, he takes himself +The helm, and steers aloof, and shuns the shelf. +Inly he griev'd, and, groaning from the breast, +Deplor'd his death; and thus his pain express'd: +"For faith repos'd on seas, and on the flatt'ring sky, +Thy naked corpse is doom'd on shores unknown to lie." +BOOK VI + +He said, and wept; then spread his sails before +The winds, and reach'd at length the Cumaean shore: +Their anchors dropp'd, his crew the vessels moor. +They turn their heads to sea, their sterns to land, +And greet with greedy joy th' Italian strand. +Some strike from clashing flints their fiery seed; +Some gather sticks, the kindled flames to feed, +Or search for hollow trees, and fell the woods, +Or trace thro' valleys the discover'd floods. +Thus, while their sev'ral charges they fulfil, +The pious prince ascends the sacred hill +Where Phoebus is ador'd; and seeks the shade +Which hides from sight his venerable maid. +Deep in a cave the Sibyl makes abode; +Thence full of fate returns, and of the god. +Thro' Trivia's grove they walk; and now behold, +And enter now, the temple roof'd with gold. +When Daedalus, to fly the Cretan shore, +His heavy limbs on jointed pinions bore, +(The first who sail'd in air,) 't is sung by Fame, +To the Cumaean coast at length he came, +And here alighting, built this costly frame. +Inscrib'd to Phoebus, here he hung on high +The steerage of his wings, that cut the sky: +Then o'er the lofty gate his art emboss'd +Androgeos' death, and off'rings to his ghost; +Sev'n youths from Athens yearly sent, to meet +The fate appointed by revengeful Crete. +And next to those the dreadful urn was plac'd, +In which the destin'd names by lots were cast: +The mournful parents stand around in tears, +And rising Crete against their shore appears. +There too, in living sculpture, might be seen +The mad affection of the Cretan queen; +Then how she cheats her bellowing lover's eye; +The rushing leap, the doubtful progeny, +The lower part a beast, a man above, +The monument of their polluted love. +Not far from thence he grav'd the wondrous maze, +A thousand doors, a thousand winding ways: +Here dwells the monster, hid from human view, +Not to be found, but by the faithful clew; +Till the kind artist, mov'd with pious grief, +Lent to the loving maid this last relief, +And all those erring paths describ'd so well +That Theseus conquer'd and the monster fell. +Here hapless Icarus had found his part, +Had not the father's grief restrain'd his art. +He twice assay'd to cast his son in gold; +Twice from his hands he dropp'd the forming mold. + +All this with wond'ring eyes Aeneas view'd; +Each varying object his delight renew'd: +Eager to read the rest- Achates came, +And by his side the mad divining dame, +The priestess of the god, Deiphobe her name. +"Time suffers not," she said, "to feed your eyes +With empty pleasures; haste the sacrifice. +Sev'n bullocks, yet unyok'd, for Phoebus choose, +And for Diana sev'n unspotted ewes." +This said, the servants urge the sacred rites, +While to the temple she the prince invites. +A spacious cave, within its farmost part, +Was hew'd and fashion'd by laborious art +Thro' the hill's hollow sides: before the place, +A hundred doors a hundred entries grace; +As many voices issue, and the sound +Of Sybil's words as many times rebound. +Now to the mouth they come. Aloud she cries: +"This is the time; enquire your destinies. +He comes; behold the god!" Thus while she said, +(And shiv'ring at the sacred entry stay'd,) +Her color chang'd; her face was not the same, +And hollow groans from her deep spirit came. +Her hair stood up; convulsive rage possess'd +Her trembling limbs, and heav'd her lab'ring breast. +Greater than humankind she seem'd to look, +And with an accent more than mortal spoke. +Her staring eyes with sparkling fury roll; +When all the god came rushing on her soul. +Swiftly she turn'd, and, foaming as she spoke: +"Why this delay?" she cried- "the pow'rs invoke! +Thy pray'rs alone can open this abode; +Else vain are my demands, and dumb the god." + +She said no more. The trembling Trojans hear, +O'erspread with a damp sweat and holy fear. +The prince himself, with awful dread possess'd, +His vows to great Apollo thus address'd: +"Indulgent god, propitious pow'r to Troy, +Swift to relieve, unwilling to destroy, +Directed by whose hand the Dardan dart +Pierc'd the proud Grecian's only mortal part: +Thus far, by fate's decrees and thy commands, +Thro' ambient seas and thro' devouring sands, +Our exil'd crew has sought th' Ausonian ground; +And now, at length, the flying coast is found. +Thus far the fate of Troy, from place to place, +With fury has pursued her wand'ring race. +Here cease, ye pow'rs, and let your vengeance end: +Troy is no more, and can no more offend. +And thou, O sacred maid, inspir'd to see +Th' event of things in dark futurity; +Give me what Heav'n has promis'd to my fate, +To conquer and command the Latian state; +To fix my wand'ring gods, and find a place +For the long exiles of the Trojan race. +Then shall my grateful hands a temple rear +To the twin gods, with vows and solemn pray'r; +And annual rites, and festivals, and games, +Shall be perform'd to their auspicious names. +Nor shalt thou want thy honors in my land; +For there thy faithful oracles shall stand, +Preserv'd in shrines; and ev'ry sacred lay, +Which, by thy mouth, Apollo shall convey: +All shall be treasur'd by a chosen train +Of holy priests, and ever shall remain. +But O! commit not thy prophetic mind +To flitting leaves, the sport of ev'ry wind, +Lest they disperse in air our empty fate; +Write not, but, what the pow'rs ordain, relate." + +Struggling in vain, impatient of her load, +And lab'ring underneath the pond'rous god, +The more she strove to shake him from her breast, +With more and far superior force he press'd; +Commands his entrance, and, without control, +Usurps her organs and inspires her soul. +Now, with a furious blast, the hundred doors +Ope of themselves; a rushing whirlwind roars +Within the cave, and Sibyl's voice restores: +"Escap'd the dangers of the wat'ry reign, +Yet more and greater ills by land remain. +The coast, so long desir'd (nor doubt th' event), +Thy troops shall reach, but, having reach'd, repent. +Wars, horrid wars, I view- a field of blood, +And Tiber rolling with a purple flood. +Simois nor Xanthus shall be wanting there: +A new Achilles shall in arms appear, +And he, too, goddess-born. Fierce Juno's hate, +Added to hostile force, shall urge thy fate. +To what strange nations shalt not thou resort, +Driv'n to solicit aid at ev'ry court! +The cause the same which Ilium once oppress'd; +A foreign mistress, and a foreign guest. +But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes, +The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose. +The dawnings of thy safety shall be shown +From whence thou least shalt hope, a Grecian town." + +Thus, from the dark recess, the Sibyl spoke, +And the resisting air the thunder broke; +The cave rebellow'd, and the temple shook. +Th' ambiguous god, who rul'd her lab'ring breast, +In these mysterious words his mind express'd; +Some truths reveal'd, in terms involv'd the rest. +At length her fury fell, her foaming ceas'd, +And, ebbing in her soul, the god decreas'd. +Then thus the chief: "No terror to my view, +No frightful face of danger can be new. +Inur'd to suffer, and resolv'd to dare, +The Fates, without my pow'r, shall be without my care. +This let me crave, since near your grove the road +To hell lies open, and the dark abode +Which Acheron surrounds, th' innavigable flood; +Conduct me thro' the regions void of light, +And lead me longing to my father's sight. +For him, a thousand dangers I have sought, +And, rushing where the thickest Grecians fought, +Safe on my back the sacred burthen brought. +He, for my sake, the raging ocean tried, +And wrath of Heav'n, my still auspicious guide, +And bore beyond the strength decrepid age supplied. +Oft, since he breath'd his last, in dead of night +His reverend image stood before my sight; +Enjoin'd to seek, below, his holy shade; +Conducted there by your unerring aid. +But you, if pious minds by pray'rs are won, +Oblige the father, and protect the son. +Yours is the pow'r; nor Proserpine in vain +Has made you priestess of her nightly reign. +If Orpheus, arm'd with his enchanting lyre, +The ruthless king with pity could inspire, +And from the shades below redeem his wife; +If Pollux, off'ring his alternate life, +Could free his brother, and can daily go +By turns aloft, by turns descend below- +Why name I Theseus, or his greater friend, +Who trod the downward path, and upward could ascend? +Not less than theirs from Jove my lineage came; +My mother greater, my descent the same." +So pray'd the Trojan prince, and, while he pray'd, +His hand upon the holy altar laid. + +Then thus replied the prophetess divine: +"O goddess-born of great Anchises' line, +The gates of hell are open night and day; +Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: +But to return, and view the cheerful skies, +In this the task and mighty labor lies. +To few great Jupiter imparts this grace, +And those of shining worth and heav'nly race. +Betwixt those regions and our upper light, +Deep forests and impenetrable night +Possess the middle space: th' infernal bounds +Cocytus, with his sable waves, surrounds. +But if so dire a love your soul invades, +As twice below to view the trembling shades; +If you so hard a toil will undertake, +As twice to pass th' innavigable lake; +Receive my counsel. In the neighb'ring grove +There stands a tree; the queen of Stygian Jove +Claims it her own; thick woods and gloomy night +Conceal the happy plant from human sight. +One bough it bears; but (wondrous to behold!) +The ductile rind and leaves of radiant gold: +This from the vulgar branches must be torn, +And to fair Proserpine the present borne, +Ere leave be giv'n to tempt the nether skies. +The first thus rent a second will arise, +And the same metal the same room supplies. +Look round the wood, with lifted eyes, to see +The lurking gold upon the fatal tree: +Then rend it off, as holy rites command; +The willing metal will obey thy hand, +Following with ease, if favor'd by thy fate, +Thou art foredoom'd to view the Stygian state: +If not, no labor can the tree constrain; +And strength of stubborn arms and steel are vain. +Besides, you know not, while you here attend, +Th' unworthy fate of your unhappy friend: +Breathless he lies; and his unburied ghost, +Depriv'd of fun'ral rites, pollutes your host. +Pay first his pious dues; and, for the dead, +Two sable sheep around his hearse be led; +Then, living turfs upon his body lay: +This done, securely take the destin'd way, +To find the regions destitute of day." + +She said, and held her peace. Aeneas went +Sad from the cave, and full of discontent, +Unknowing whom the sacred Sibyl meant. +Achates, the companion of his breast, +Goes grieving by his side, with equal cares oppress'd. +Walking, they talk'd, and fruitlessly divin'd +What friend the priestess by those words design'd. +But soon they found an object to deplore: +Misenus lay extended the shore; +Son of the God of Winds: none so renown'd +The warrior trumpet in the field to sound; +With breathing brass to kindle fierce alarms, +And rouse to dare their fate in honorable arms. +He serv'd great Hector, and was ever near, +Not with his trumpet only, but his spear. +But by Pelides' arms when Hector fell, +He chose Aeneas; and he chose as well. +Swoln with applause, and aiming still at more, +He now provokes the sea gods from the shore; +With envy Triton heard the martial sound, +And the bold champion, for his challenge, drown'd; +Then cast his mangled carcass on the strand: +The gazing crowd around the body stand. +All weep; but most Aeneas mourns his fate, +And hastens to perform the funeral state. +In altar-wise, a stately pile they rear; +The basis broad below, and top advanc'd in air. +An ancient wood, fit for the work design'd, +(The shady covert of the salvage kind,) +The Trojans found: the sounding ax is plied; +Firs, pines, and pitch trees, and the tow'ring pride +Of forest ashes, feel the fatal stroke, +And piercing wedges cleave the stubborn oak. +Huge trunks of trees, fell'd from the steepy crown +Of the bare mountains, roll with ruin down. +Arm'd like the rest the Trojan prince appears, +And by his pious labor urges theirs. + +Thus while he wrought, revolving in his mind +The ways to compass what his wish design'd, +He cast his eyes upon the gloomy grove, +And then with vows implor'd the Queen of Love: +"O may thy pow'r, propitious still to me, +Conduct my steps to find the fatal tree, +In this deep forest; since the Sibyl's breath +Foretold, alas! too true, Misenus' death." +Scarce had he said, when, full before his sight, +Two doves, descending from their airy flight, +Secure upon the grassy plain alight. +He knew his mother's birds; and thus he pray'd: +"Be you my guides, with your auspicious aid, +And lead my footsteps, till the branch be found, +Whose glitt'ring shadow gilds the sacred ground. +And thou, great parent, with celestial care, +In this distress be present to my pray'r!" +Thus having said, he stopp'd with watchful sight, +Observing still the motions of their flight, +What course they took, what happy signs they shew. +They fed, and, flutt'ring, by degrees withdrew +Still farther from the place, but still in view: +Hopping and flying, thus they led him on +To the slow lake, whose baleful stench to shun +They wing'd their flight aloft; then, stooping low, +Perch'd on the double tree that bears the golden bough. +Thro' the green leafs the glitt'ring shadows glow; +As, on the sacred oak, the wintry mistletoe, +Where the proud mother views her precious brood, +And happier branches, which she never sow'd. +Such was the glitt'ring; such the ruddy rind, +And dancing leaves, that wanton'd in the wind. +He seiz'd the shining bough with griping hold, +And rent away, with ease, the ling'ring gold; +Then to the Sibyl's palace bore the prize. +Meantime the Trojan troops, with weeping eyes, +To dead Misenus pay his obsequies. +First, from the ground a lofty pile they rear, +Of pitch trees, oaks, and pines, and unctuous fir: +The fabric's front with cypress twigs they strew, +And stick the sides with boughs of baleful yew. +The topmost part his glitt'ring arms adorn; +Warm waters, then, in brazen caldrons borne, +Are pour'd to wash his body, joint by joint, +And fragrant oils the stiffen'd limbs anoint. +With groans and cries Misenus they deplore: +Then on a bier, with purple cover'd o'er, +The breathless body, thus bewail'd, they lay, +And fire the pile, their faces turn'd away- +Such reverend rites their fathers us'd to pay. +Pure oil and incense on the fire they throw, +And fat of victims, which his friends bestow. +These gifts the greedy flames to dust devour; +Then on the living coals red wine they pour; +And, last, the relics by themselves dispose, +Which in a brazen urn the priests inclose. +Old Corynaeus compass'd thrice the crew, +And dipp'd an olive branch in holy dew; +Which thrice he sprinkled round, and thrice aloud +Invok'd the dead, and then dismissed the crowd. +But good Aeneas order'd on the shore +A stately tomb, whose top a trumpet bore, +A soldier's fauchion, and a seaman's oar. +Thus was his friend interr'd; and deathless fame +Still to the lofty cape consigns his name. +These rites perform'd, the prince, without delay, +Hastes to the nether world his destin'd way. +Deep was the cave; and, downward as it went +From the wide mouth, a rocky rough descent; +And here th' access a gloomy grove defends, +And there th' unnavigable lake extends, +O'er whose unhappy waters, void of light, +No bird presumes to steer his airy flight; +Such deadly stenches from the depths arise, +And steaming sulphur, that infects the skies. +From hence the Grecian bards their legends make, +And give the name Avernus to the lake. +Four sable bullocks, in the yoke untaught, +For sacrifice the pious hero brought. +The priestess pours the wine betwixt their horns; +Then cuts the curling hair; that first oblation burns, +Invoking Hecate hither to repair: +A pow'rful name in hell and upper air. +The sacred priests with ready knives bereave +The beasts of life, and in full bowls receive +The streaming blood: a lamb to Hell and Night +(The sable wool without a streak of white) +Aeneas offers; and, by fate's decree, +A barren heifer, Proserpine, to thee, +With holocausts he Pluto's altar fills; +Sev'n brawny bulls with his own hand he kills; +Then on the broiling entrails oil he pours; +Which, ointed thus, the raging flame devours. +Late the nocturnal sacrifice begun, +Nor ended till the next returning sun. +Then earth began to bellow, trees to dance, +And howling dogs in glimm'ring light advance, +Ere Hecate came. "Far hence be souls profane!" +The Sibyl cried, "and from the grove abstain! +Now, Trojan, take the way thy fates afford; +Assume thy courage, and unsheathe thy sword." +She said, and pass'd along the gloomy space; +The prince pursued her steps with equal pace. + +Ye realms, yet unreveal'd to human sight, +Ye gods who rule the regions of the night, +Ye gliding ghosts, permit me to relate +The mystic wonders of your silent state! + +Obscure they went thro' dreary shades, that led +Along the waste dominions of the dead. +Thus wander travelers in woods by night, +By the moon's doubtful and malignant light, +When Jove in dusky clouds involves the skies, +And the faint crescent shoots by fits before their eyes. + +Just in the gate and in the jaws of hell, +Revengeful Cares and sullen Sorrows dwell, +And pale Diseases, and repining Age, +Want, Fear, and Famine's unresisted rage; +Here Toils, and Death, and Death's half-brother, Sleep, +Forms terrible to view, their sentry keep; +With anxious Pleasures of a guilty mind, +Deep Frauds before, and open Force behind; +The Furies' iron beds; and Strife, that shakes +Her hissing tresses and unfolds her snakes. +Full in the midst of this infernal road, +An elm displays her dusky arms abroad: +The God of Sleep there hides his heavy head, +And empty dreams on ev'ry leaf are spread. +Of various forms unnumber'd specters more, +Centaurs, and double shapes, besiege the door. +Before the passage, horrid Hydra stands, +And Briareus with all his hundred hands; +Gorgons, Geryon with his triple frame; +And vain Chimaera vomits empty flame. +The chief unsheath'd his shining steel, prepar'd, +Tho' seiz'd with sudden fear, to force the guard, +Off'ring his brandish'd weapon at their face; +Had not the Sibyl stopp'd his eager pace, +And told him what those empty phantoms were: +Forms without bodies, and impassive air. +Hence to deep Acheron they take their way, +Whose troubled eddies, thick with ooze and clay, +Are whirl'd aloft, and in Cocytus lost. +There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast- +A sordid god: down from his hoary chin +A length of beard descends, uncomb'd, unclean; +His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire; +A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire. +He spreads his canvas; with his pole he steers; +The freights of flitting ghosts in his thin bottom bears. +He look'd in years; yet in his years were seen +A youthful vigor and autumnal green. +An airy crowd came rushing where he stood, +Which fill'd the margin of the fatal flood: +Husbands and wives, boys and unmarried maids, +And mighty heroes' more majestic shades, +And youths, intomb'd before their fathers' eyes, +With hollow groans, and shrieks, and feeble cries. +Thick as the leaves in autumn strow the woods, +Or fowls, by winter forc'd, forsake the floods, +And wing their hasty flight to happier lands; +Such, and so thick, the shiv'ring army stands, +And press for passage with extended hands. +Now these, now those, the surly boatman bore: +The rest he drove to distance from the shore. +The hero, who beheld with wond'ring eyes +The tumult mix'd with shrieks, laments, and cries, +Ask'd of his guide, what the rude concourse meant; +Why to the shore the thronging people bent; +What forms of law among the ghosts were us'd; +Why some were ferried o'er, and some refus'd. + +"Son of Anchises, offspring of the gods," +The Sibyl said, "you see the Stygian floods, +The sacred stream which heav'n's imperial state +Attests in oaths, and fears to violate. +The ghosts rejected are th' unhappy crew +Depriv'd of sepulchers and fun'ral due: +The boatman, Charon; those, the buried host, +He ferries over to the farther coast; +Nor dares his transport vessel cross the waves +With such whose bones are not compos'd in graves. +A hundred years they wander on the shore; +At length, their penance done, are wafted o'er." +The Trojan chief his forward pace repress'd, +Revolving anxious thoughts within his breast, +He saw his friends, who, whelm'd beneath the waves, +Their fun'ral honors claim'd, and ask'd their quiet graves. +The lost Leucaspis in the crowd he knew, +And the brave leader of the Lycian crew, +Whom, on the Tyrrhene seas, the tempests met; +The sailors master'd, and the ship o'erset. + +Amidst the spirits, Palinurus press'd, +Yet fresh from life, a new-admitted guest, +Who, while he steering view'd the stars, and bore +His course from Afric to the Latian shore, +Fell headlong down. The Trojan fix'd his view, +And scarcely thro' the gloom the sullen shadow knew. +Then thus the prince: "What envious pow'r, O friend, +Brought your lov'd life to this disastrous end? +For Phoebus, ever true in all he said, +Has in your fate alone my faith betray'd. +The god foretold you should not die, before +You reach'd, secure from seas, th' Italian shore. +Is this th' unerring pow'r?" The ghost replied; +"Nor Phoebus flatter'd, nor his answers lied; +Nor envious gods have sent me to the deep: +But, while the stars and course of heav'n I keep, +My wearied eyes were seiz'd with fatal sleep. +I fell; and, with my weight, the helm constrain'd +Was drawn along, which yet my gripe retain'd. +Now by the winds and raging waves I swear, +Your safety, more than mine, was then my care; +Lest, of the guide bereft, the rudder lost, +Your ship should run against the rocky coast. +Three blust'ring nights, borne by the southern blast, +I floated, and discover'd land at last: +High on a mounting wave my head I bore, +Forcing my strength, and gath'ring to the shore. +Panting, but past the danger, now I seiz'd +The craggy cliffs, and my tir'd members eas'd. +While, cumber'd with my dropping clothes, I lay, +The cruel nation, covetous of prey, +Stain'd with my blood th' unhospitable coast; +And now, by winds and waves, my lifeless limbs are toss'd: +Which O avert, by yon ethereal light, +Which I have lost for this eternal night! +Or, if by dearer ties you may be won, +By your dead sire, and by your living son, +Redeem from this reproach my wand'ring ghost; +Or with your navy seek the Velin coast, +And in a peaceful grave my corpse compose; +Or, if a nearer way your mother shows, +Without whose aid you durst not undertake +This frightful passage o'er the Stygian lake, +Lend to this wretch your hand, and waft him o'er +To the sweet banks of yon forbidden shore." +Scarce had he said, the prophetess began: +"What hopes delude thee, miserable man? +Think'st thou, thus unintomb'd, to cross the floods, +To view the Furies and infernal gods, +And visit, without leave, the dark abodes? +Attend the term of long revolving years; +Fate, and the dooming gods, are deaf to tears. +This comfort of thy dire misfortune take: +The wrath of Heav'n, inflicted for thy sake, +With vengeance shall pursue th' inhuman coast, +Till they propitiate thy offended ghost, +And raise a tomb, with vows and solemn pray'r; +And Palinurus' name the place shall bear." +This calm'd his cares; sooth'd with his future fame, +And pleas'd to hear his propagated name. + +Now nearer to the Stygian lake they draw: +Whom, from the shore, the surly boatman saw; +Observ'd their passage thro' the shady wood, +And mark'd their near approaches to the flood. +Then thus he call'd aloud, inflam'd with wrath: +"Mortal, whate'er, who this forbidden path +In arms presum'st to tread, I charge thee, stand, +And tell thy name, and bus'ness in the land. +Know this, the realm of night- the Stygian shore: +My boat conveys no living bodies o'er; +Nor was I pleas'd great Theseus once to bear, +Who forc'd a passage with his pointed spear, +Nor strong Alcides- men of mighty fame, +And from th' immortal gods their lineage came. +In fetters one the barking porter tied, +And took him trembling from his sov'reign's side: +Two sought by force to seize his beauteous bride." +To whom the Sibyl thus: "Compose thy mind; +Nor frauds are here contriv'd, nor force design'd. +Still may the dog the wand'ring troops constrain +Of airy ghosts, and vex the guilty train, +And with her grisly lord his lovely queen remain. +The Trojan chief, whose lineage is from Jove, +Much fam'd for arms, and more for filial love, +Is sent to seek his sire in your Elysian grove. +If neither piety, nor Heav'n's command, +Can gain his passage to the Stygian strand, +This fatal present shall prevail at least." +Then shew'd the shining bough, conceal'd within her vest. +No more was needful: for the gloomy god +Stood mute with awe, to see the golden rod; +Admir'd the destin'd off'ring to his queen- +A venerable gift, so rarely seen. +His fury thus appeas'd, he puts to land; +The ghosts forsake their seats at his command: +He clears the deck, receives the mighty freight; +The leaky vessel groans beneath the weight. +Slowly she sails, and scarcely stems the tides; +The pressing water pours within her sides. +His passengers at length are wafted o'er, +Expos'd, in muddy weeds, upon the miry shore. + +No sooner landed, in his den they found +The triple porter of the Stygian sound, +Grim Cerberus, who soon began to rear +His crested snakes, and arm'd his bristling hair. +The prudent Sibyl had before prepar'd +A sop, in honey steep'd, to charm the guard; +Which, mix'd with pow'rful drugs, she cast before +His greedy grinning jaws, just op'd to roar. +With three enormous mouths he gapes; and straight, +With hunger press'd, devours the pleasing bait. +Long draughts of sleep his monstrous limbs enslave; +He reels, and, falling, fills the spacious cave. +The keeper charm'd, the chief without delay +Pass'd on, and took th' irremeable way. +Before the gates, the cries of babes new born, +Whom fate had from their tender mothers torn, +Assault his ears: then those, whom form of laws +Condemn'd to die, when traitors judg'd their cause. +Nor want they lots, nor judges to review +The wrongful sentence, and award a new. +Minos, the strict inquisitor, appears; +And lives and crimes, with his assessors, hears. +Round in his urn the blended balls he rolls, +Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls. +The next, in place and punishment, are they +Who prodigally throw their souls away; +Fools, who, repining at their wretched state, +And loathing anxious life, suborn'd their fate. +With late repentance now they would retrieve +The bodies they forsook, and wish to live; +Their pains and poverty desire to bear, +To view the light of heav'n, and breathe the vital air: +But fate forbids; the Stygian floods oppose, +And with circling streams the captive souls inclose. + +Not far from thence, the Mournful Fields appear +So call'd from lovers that inhabit there. +The souls whom that unhappy flame invades, +In secret solitude and myrtle shades +Make endless moans, and, pining with desire, +Lament too late their unextinguish'd fire. +Here Procris, Eriphyle here he found, +Baring her breast, yet bleeding with the wound +Made by her son. He saw Pasiphae there, +With Phaedra's ghost, a foul incestuous pair. +There Laodamia, with Evadne, moves, +Unhappy both, but loyal in their loves: +Caeneus, a woman once, and once a man, +But ending in the sex she first began. +Not far from these Phoenician Dido stood, +Fresh from her wound, her bosom bath'd in blood; +Whom when the Trojan hero hardly knew, +Obscure in shades, and with a doubtful view, +(Doubtful as he who sees, thro' dusky night, +Or thinks he sees, the moon's uncertain light,) +With tears he first approach'd the sullen shade; +And, as his love inspir'd him, thus he said: +"Unhappy queen! then is the common breath +Of rumor true, in your reported death, +And I, alas! the cause? By Heav'n, I vow, +And all the pow'rs that rule the realms below, +Unwilling I forsook your friendly state, +Commanded by the gods, and forc'd by fate- +Those gods, that fate, whose unresisted might +Have sent me to these regions void of light, +Thro' the vast empire of eternal night. +Nor dar'd I to presume, that, press'd with grief, +My flight should urge you to this dire relief. +Stay, stay your steps, and listen to my vows: +'T is the last interview that fate allows!" +In vain he thus attempts her mind to move +With tears, and pray'rs, and late-repenting love. +Disdainfully she look'd; then turning round, +But fix'd her eyes unmov'd upon the ground, +And what he says and swears, regards no more +Than the deaf rocks, when the loud billows roar; +But whirl'd away, to shun his hateful sight, +Hid in the forest and the shades of night; +Then sought Sichaeus thro' the shady grove, +Who answer'd all her cares, and equal'd all her love. + +Some pious tears the pitying hero paid, +And follow'd with his eyes the flitting shade, +Then took the forward way, by fate ordain'd, +And, with his guide, the farther fields attain'd, +Where, sever'd from the rest, the warrior souls remain'd. +Tydeus he met, with Meleager's race, +The pride of armies, and the soldiers' grace; +And pale Adrastus with his ghastly face. +Of Trojan chiefs he view'd a num'rous train, +All much lamented, all in battle slain; +Glaucus and Medon, high above the rest, +Antenor's sons, and Ceres' sacred priest. +And proud Idaeus, Priam's charioteer, +Who shakes his empty reins, and aims his airy spear. +The gladsome ghosts, in circling troops, attend +And with unwearied eyes behold their friend; +Delight to hover near, and long to know +What bus'ness brought him to the realms below. +But Argive chiefs, and Agamemnon's train, +When his refulgent arms flash'd thro' the shady plain, +Fled from his well-known face, with wonted fear, +As when his thund'ring sword and pointed spear +Drove headlong to their ships, and glean'd the routed rear. +They rais'd a feeble cry, with trembling notes; +But the weak voice deceiv'd their gasping throats. + +Here Priam's son, Deiphobus, he found, +Whose face and limbs were one continued wound: +Dishonest, with lopp'd arms, the youth appears, +Spoil'd of his nose, and shorten'd of his ears. +He scarcely knew him, striving to disown +His blotted form, and blushing to be known; +And therefore first began: "O Tsucer's race, +Who durst thy faultless figure thus deface? +What heart could wish, what hand inflict, this dire disgrace? +'Twas fam'd, that in our last and fatal night +Your single prowess long sustain'd the fight, +Till tir'd, not forc'd, a glorious fate you chose, +And fell upon a heap of slaughter'd foes. +But, in remembrance of so brave a deed, +A tomb and fun'ral honors I decreed; +Thrice call'd your manes on the Trojan plains: +The place your armor and your name retains. +Your body too I sought, and, had I found, +Design'd for burial in your native ground." + +The ghost replied: "Your piety has paid +All needful rites, to rest my wand'ring shade; +But cruel fate, and my more cruel wife, +To Grecian swords betray'd my sleeping life. +These are the monuments of Helen's love: +The shame I bear below, the marks I bore above. +You know in what deluding joys we pass'd +The night that was by Heav'n decreed our last: +For, when the fatal horse, descending down, +Pregnant with arms, o'erwhelm'd th' unhappy town +She feign'd nocturnal orgies; left my bed, +And, mix'd with Trojan dames, the dances led +Then, waving high her torch, the signal made, +Which rous'd the Grecians from their ambuscade. +With watching overworn, with cares oppress'd, +Unhappy I had laid me down to rest, +And heavy sleep my weary limbs possess'd. +Meantime my worthy wife our arms mislaid, +And from beneath my head my sword convey'd; +The door unlatch'd, and, with repeated calls, +Invites her former lord within my walls. +Thus in her crime her confidence she plac'd, +And with new treasons would redeem the past. +What need I more? Into the room they ran, +And meanly murther'd a defenseless man. +Ulysses, basely born, first led the way. +Avenging pow'rs! with justice if I pray, +That fortune be their own another day! +But answer you; and in your turn relate, +What brought you, living, to the Stygian state: +Driv'n by the winds and errors of the sea, +Or did you Heav'n's superior doom obey? +Or tell what other chance conducts your way, +To view with mortal eyes our dark retreats, +Tumults and torments of th' infernal seats." + +While thus in talk the flying hours they pass, +The sun had finish'd more than half his race: +And they, perhaps, in words and tears had spent +The little time of stay which Heav'n had lent; +But thus the Sibyl chides their long delay: +"Night rushes down, and headlong drives the day: +'T is here, in different paths, the way divides; +The right to Pluto's golden palace guides; +The left to that unhappy region tends, +Which to the depth of Tartarus descends; +The seat of night profound, and punish'd fiends." +Then thus Deiphobus: "O sacred maid, +Forbear to chide, and be your will obey'd! +Lo! to the secret shadows I retire, +To pay my penance till my years expire. +Proceed, auspicious prince, with glory crown'd, +And born to better fates than I have found." +He said; and, while he said, his steps he turn'd +To secret shadows, and in silence mourn'd. + +The hero, looking on the left, espied +A lofty tow'r, and strong on ev'ry side +With treble walls, which Phlegethon surrounds, +Whose fiery flood the burning empire bounds; +And, press'd betwixt the rocks, the bellowing noise resounds +Wide is the fronting gate, and, rais'd on high +With adamantine columns, threats the sky. +Vain is the force of man, and Heav'n's as vain, +To crush the pillars which the pile sustain. +Sublime on these a tow'r of steel is rear'd; +And dire Tisiphone there keeps the ward, +Girt in her sanguine gown, by night and day, +Observant of the souls that pass the downward way. +From hence are heard the groans of ghosts, the pains +Of sounding lashes and of dragging chains. +The Trojan stood astonish'd at their cries, +And ask'd his guide from whence those yells arise; +And what the crimes, and what the tortures were, +And loud laments that rent the liquid air. + +She thus replied: "The chaste and holy race +Are all forbidden this polluted place. +But Hecate, when she gave to rule the woods, +Then led me trembling thro' these dire abodes, +And taught the tortures of th' avenging gods. +These are the realms of unrelenting fate; +And awful Rhadamanthus rules the state. +He hears and judges each committed crime; +Enquires into the manner, place, and time. +The conscious wretch must all his acts reveal, +(Loth to confess, unable to conceal), +From the first moment of his vital breath, +To his last hour of unrepenting death. +Straight, o'er the guilty ghost, the Fury shakes +The sounding whip and brandishes her snakes, +And the pale sinner, with her sisters, takes. +Then, of itself, unfolds th' eternal door; +With dreadful sounds the brazen hinges roar. +You see, before the gate, what stalking ghost +Commands the guard, what sentries keep the post. +More formidable Hydra stands within, +Whose jaws with iron teeth severely grin. +The gaping gulf low to the center lies, +And twice as deep as earth is distant from the skies. +The rivals of the gods, the Titan race, +Here, sing'd with lightning, roll within th' unfathom'd space. +Here lie th' Alaean twins, (I saw them both,) +Enormous bodies, of gigantic growth, +Who dar'd in fight the Thund'rer to defy, +Affect his heav'n, and force him from the sky. +Salmoneus, suff'ring cruel pains, I found, +For emulating Jove; the rattling sound +Of mimic thunder, and the glitt'ring blaze +Of pointed lightnings, and their forky rays. +Thro' Elis and the Grecian towns he flew; +Th' audacious wretch four fiery coursers drew: +He wav'd a torch aloft, and, madly vain, +Sought godlike worship from a servile train. +Ambitious fool! with horny hoofs to pass +O'er hollow arches of resounding brass, +To rival thunder in its rapid course, +And imitate inimitable force! +But he, the King of Heav'n, obscure on high, +Bar'd his red arm, and, launching from the sky +His writhen bolt, not shaking empty smoke, +Down to the deep abyss the flaming felon strook. +There Tityus was to see, who took his birth +From heav'n, his nursing from the foodful earth. +Here his gigantic limbs, with large embrace, +Infold nine acres of infernal space. +A rav'nous vulture, in his open'd side, +Her crooked beak and cruel talons tried; +Still for the growing liver digg'd his breast; +The growing liver still supplied the feast; +Still are his entrails fruitful to their pains: +Th' immortal hunger lasts, th' immortal food remains. +Ixion and Perithous I could name, +And more Thessalian chiefs of mighty fame. +High o'er their heads a mold'ring rock is plac'd, +That promises a fall, and shakes at ev'ry blast. +They lie below, on golden beds display'd; +And genial feasts with regal pomp are made. +The Queen of Furies by their sides is set, +And snatches from their mouths th' untasted meat, +Which if they touch, her hissing snakes she rears, +Tossing her torch, and thund'ring in their ears. +Then they, who brothers' better claim disown, +Expel their parents, and usurp the throne; +Defraud their clients, and, to lucre sold, +Sit brooding on unprofitable gold; +Who dare not give, and ev'n refuse to lend +To their poor kindred, or a wanting friend. +Vast is the throng of these; nor less the train +Of lustful youths, for foul adult'ry slain: +Hosts of deserters, who their honor sold, +And basely broke their faith for bribes of gold. +All these within the dungeon's depth remain, +Despairing pardon, and expecting pain. +Ask not what pains; nor farther seek to know +Their process, or the forms of law below. +Some roll a weighty stone; some, laid along, +And bound with burning wires, on spokes of wheels are hung +Unhappy Theseus, doom'd for ever there, +Is fix'd by fate on his eternal chair; +And wretched Phlegyas warns the world with cries +(Could warning make the world more just or wise): +'Learn righteousness, and dread th' avenging deities.' +To tyrants others have their country sold, +Imposing foreign lords, for foreign gold; +Some have old laws repeal'd, new statutes made, +Not as the people pleas'd, but as they paid; +With incest some their daughters' bed profan'd: +All dar'd the worst of ills, and, what they dar'd, attain'd. +Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, +And throats of brass, inspir'd with iron lungs, +I could not half those horrid crimes repeat, +Nor half the punishments those crimes have met. +But let us haste our voyage to pursue: +The walls of Pluto's palace are in view; +The gate, and iron arch above it, stands +On anvils labor'd by the Cyclops' hands. +Before our farther way the Fates allow, +Here must we fix on high the golden bough." + +She said: and thro' the gloomy shades they pass'd, +And chose the middle path. Arriv'd at last, +The prince with living water sprinkled o'er +His limbs and body; then approach'd the door, +Possess'd the porch, and on the front above +He fix'd the fatal bough requir'd by Pluto's love. +These holy rites perform'd, they took their way +Where long extended plains of pleasure lay: +The verdant fields with those of heav'n may vie, +With ether vested, and a purple sky; +The blissful seats of happy souls below. +Stars of their own, and their own suns, they know; +Their airy limbs in sports they exercise, +And on the green contend the wrestler's prize. +Some in heroic verse divinely sing; +Others in artful measures led the ring. +The Thracian bard, surrounded by the rest, +There stands conspicuous in his flowing vest; +His flying fingers, and harmonious quill, +Strikes sev'n distinguish'd notes, and sev'n at once they fill. +Here found they Tsucer's old heroic race, +Born better times and happier years to grace. +Assaracus and Ilus here enjoy +Perpetual fame, with him who founded Troy. +The chief beheld their chariots from afar, +Their shining arms, and coursers train'd to war: +Their lances fix'd in earth, their steeds around, +Free from their harness, graze the flow'ry ground. +The love of horses which they had, alive, +And care of chariots, after death survive. +Some cheerful souls were feasting on the plain; +Some did the song, and some the choir maintain, +Beneath a laurel shade, where mighty Po +Mounts up to woods above, and hides his head below. +Here patriots live, who, for their country's good, +In fighting fields, were prodigal of blood: +Priests of unblemish'd lives here make abode, +And poets worthy their inspiring god; +And searching wits, of more mechanic parts, +Who grac'd their age with new-invented arts: +Those who to worth their bounty did extend, +And those who knew that bounty to commend. +The heads of these with holy fillets bound, +And all their temples were with garlands crown'd. + +To these the Sibyl thus her speech address'd, +And first to him surrounded by the rest +(Tow'ring his height, and ample was his breast): +"Say, happy souls, divine Musaeus, say, +Where lives Anchises, and where lies our way +To find the hero, for whose only sake +We sought the dark abodes, and cross'd the bitter lake?" +To this the sacred poet thus replied: +"In no fix'd place the happy souls reside. +In groves we live, and lie on mossy beds, +By crystal streams, that murmur thro' the meads: +But pass yon easy hill, and thence descend; +The path conducts you to your journey's end." +This said, he led them up the mountain's brow, +And shews them all the shining fields below. +They wind the hill, and thro' the blissful meadows go. + +But old Anchises, in a flow'ry vale, +Review'd his muster'd race, and took the tale: +Those happy spirits, which, ordain'd by fate, +For future beings and new bodies wait- +With studious thought observ'd th' illustrious throng, +In nature's order as they pass'd along: +Their names, their fates, their conduct, and their care, +In peaceful senates and successful war. +He, when Aeneas on the plain appears, +Meets him with open arms, and falling tears. +"Welcome," he said, "the gods' undoubted race! +O long expected to my dear embrace! +Once more 't is giv'n me to behold your face! +The love and pious duty which you pay +Have pass'd the perils of so hard a way. +'T is true, computing times, I now believ'd +The happy day approach'd; nor are my hopes deceiv'd. +What length of lands, what oceans have you pass'd; +What storms sustain'd, and on what shores been cast? +How have I fear'd your fate! but fear'd it most, +When love assail'd you, on the Libyan coast." +To this, the filial duty thus replies: +"Your sacred ghost before my sleeping eyes +Appear'd, and often urg'd this painful enterprise. +After long tossing on the Tyrrhene sea, +My navy rides at anchor in the bay. +But reach your hand, O parent shade, nor shun +The dear embraces of your longing son!" +He said; and falling tears his face bedew: +Then thrice around his neck his arms he threw; +And thrice the flitting shadow slipp'd away, +Like winds, or empty dreams that fly the day. + +Now, in a secret vale, the Trojan sees +A sep'rate grove, thro' which a gentle breeze +Plays with a passing breath, and whispers thro' the trees; +And, just before the confines of the wood, +The gliding Lethe leads her silent flood. +About the boughs an airy nation flew, +Thick as the humming bees, that hunt the golden dew; +In summer's heat on tops of lilies feed, +And creep within their bells, to suck the balmy seed: +The winged army roams the fields around; +The rivers and the rocks remurmur to the sound. +Aeneas wond'ring stood, then ask'd the cause +Which to the stream the crowding people draws. +Then thus the sire: "The souls that throng the flood +Are those to whom, by fate, are other bodies ow'd: +In Lethe's lake they long oblivion taste, +Of future life secure, forgetful of the past. +Long has my soul desir'd this time and place, +To set before your sight your glorious race, +That this presaging joy may fire your mind +To seek the shores by destiny design'd."- +"O father, can it be, that souls sublime +Return to visit our terrestrial clime, +And that the gen'rous mind, releas'd by death, +Can covet lazy limbs and mortal breath?" + +Anchises then, in order, thus begun +To clear those wonders to his godlike son: +"Know, first, that heav'n, and earth's compacted frame, +And flowing waters, and the starry flame, +And both the radiant lights, one common soul +Inspires and feeds, and animates the whole. +This active mind, infus'd thro' all the space, +Unites and mingles with the mighty mass. +Hence men and beasts the breath of life obtain, +And birds of air, and monsters of the main. +Th' ethereal vigor is in all the same, +And every soul is fill'd with equal flame; +As much as earthy limbs, and gross allay +Of mortal members, subject to decay, +Blunt not the beams of heav'n and edge of day. +From this coarse mixture of terrestrial parts, +Desire and fear by turns possess their hearts, +And grief, and joy; nor can the groveling mind, +In the dark dungeon of the limbs confin'd, +Assert the native skies, or own its heav'nly kind: +Nor death itself can wholly wash their stains; +But long-contracted filth ev'n in the soul remains. +The relics of inveterate vice they wear, +And spots of sin obscene in ev'ry face appear. +For this are various penances enjoin'd; +And some are hung to bleach upon the wind, +Some plung'd in waters, others purg'd in fires, +Till all the dregs are drain'd, and all the rust expires. +All have their manes, and those manes bear: +The few, so cleans'd, to these abodes repair, +And breathe, in ample fields, the soft Elysian air. +Then are they happy, when by length of time +The scurf is worn away of each committed crime; +No speck is left of their habitual stains, +But the pure ether of the soul remains. +But, when a thousand rolling years are past, +(So long their punishments and penance last,) +Whole droves of minds are, by the driving god, +Compell'd to drink the deep Lethaean flood, +In large forgetful draughts to steep the cares +Of their past labors, and their irksome years, +That, unrememb'ring of its former pain, +The soul may suffer mortal flesh again." + +Thus having said, the father spirit leads +The priestess and his son thro' swarms of shades, +And takes a rising ground, from thence to see +The long procession of his progeny. +"Survey," pursued the sire, "this airy throng, +As, offer'd to thy view, they pass along. +These are th' Italian names, which fate will join +With ours, and graff upon the Trojan line. +Observe the youth who first appears in sight, +And holds the nearest station to the light, +Already seems to snuff the vital air, +And leans just forward, on a shining spear: +Silvius is he, thy last-begotten race, +But first in order sent, to fill thy place; +An Alban name, but mix'd with Dardan blood, +Born in the covert of a shady wood: +Him fair Lavinia, thy surviving wife, +Shall breed in groves, to lead a solitary life. +In Alba he shall fix his royal seat, +And, born a king, a race of kings beget. +Then Procas, honor of the Trojan name, +Capys, and Numitor, of endless fame. +A second Silvius after these appears; +Silvius Aeneas, for thy name he bears; +For arms and justice equally renown'd, +Who, late restor'd, in Alba shall be crown'd. +How great they look! how vig'rously they wield +Their weighty lances, and sustain the shield! +But they, who crown'd with oaken wreaths appear, +Shall Gabian walls and strong Fidena rear; +Nomentum, Bola, with Pometia, found; +And raise Collatian tow'rs on rocky ground. +All these shall then be towns of mighty fame, +Tho' now they lie obscure, and lands without a name. +See Romulus the great, born to restore +The crown that once his injur'd grandsire wore. +This prince a priestess of your blood shall bear, +And like his sire in arms he shall appear. +Two rising crests, his royal head adorn; +Born from a god, himself to godhead born: +His sire already signs him for the skies, +And marks the seat amidst the deities. +Auspicious chief! thy race, in times to come, +Shall spread the conquests of imperial Rome- +Rome, whose ascending tow'rs shall heav'n invade, +Involving earth and ocean in her shade; +High as the Mother of the Gods in place, +And proud, like her, of an immortal race. +Then, when in pomp she makes the Phrygian round, +With golden turrets on her temples crown'd; +A hundred gods her sweeping train supply; +Her offspring all, and all command the sky. + +"Now fix your sight, and stand intent, to see +Your Roman race, and Julian progeny. +The mighty Caesar waits his vital hour, +Impatient for the world, and grasps his promis'd pow'r. +But next behold the youth of form divine, +Ceasar himself, exalted in his line; +Augustus, promis'd oft, and long foretold, +Sent to the realm that Saturn rul'd of old; +Born to restore a better age of gold. +Afric and India shall his pow'r obey; +He shall extend his propagated sway +Beyond the solar year, without the starry way, +Where Atlas turns the rolling heav'ns around, +And his broad shoulders with their lights are crown'd. +At his foreseen approach, already quake +The Caspian kingdoms and Maeotian lake: +Their seers behold the tempest from afar, +And threat'ning oracles denounce the war. +Nile hears him knocking at his sev'nfold gates, +And seeks his hidden spring, and fears his nephew's fates. +Nor Hercules more lands or labors knew, +Not tho' the brazen-footed hind he slew, +Freed Erymanthus from the foaming boar, +And dipp'd his arrows in Lernaean gore; +Nor Bacchus, turning from his Indian war, +By tigers drawn triumphant in his car, +From Nisus' top descending on the plains, +With curling vines around his purple reins. +And doubt we yet thro' dangers to pursue +The paths of honor, and a crown in view? +But what's the man, who from afar appears? +His head with olive crown'd, his hand a censer bears, +His hoary beard and holy vestments bring +His lost idea back: I know the Roman king. +He shall to peaceful Rome new laws ordain, +Call'd from his mean abode a scepter to sustain. +Him Tullus next in dignity succeeds, +An active prince, and prone to martial deeds. +He shall his troops for fighting fields prepare, +Disus'd to toils, and triumphs of the war. +By dint of sword his crown he shall increase, +And scour his armor from the rust of peace. +Whom Ancus follows, with a fawning air, +But vain within, and proudly popular. +Next view the Tarquin kings, th' avenging sword +Of Brutus, justly drawn, and Rome restor'd. +He first renews the rods and ax severe, +And gives the consuls royal robes to wear. +His sons, who seek the tyrant to sustain, +And long for arbitrary lords again, +With ignominy scourg'd, in open sight, +He dooms to death deserv'd, asserting public right. +Unhappy man, to break the pious laws +Of nature, pleading in his children's cause! +Howeer the doubtful fact is understood, +'T is love of honor, and his country's good: +The consul, not the father, sheds the blood. +Behold Torquatus the same track pursue; +And, next, the two devoted Decii view: +The Drusian line, Camillus loaded home +With standards well redeem'd, and foreign foes o'ercome +The pair you see in equal armor shine, +Now, friends below, in close embraces join; +But, when they leave the shady realms of night, +And, cloth'd in bodies, breathe your upper light, +With mortal hate each other shall pursue: +What wars, what wounds, what slaughter shall ensue! +From Alpine heights the father first descends; +His daughter's husband in the plain attends: +His daughter's husband arms his eastern friends. +Embrace again, my sons, be foes no more; +Nor stain your country with her children's gore! +And thou, the first, lay down thy lawless claim, +Thou, of my blood, who bearist the Julian name! +Another comes, who shall in triumph ride, +And to the Capitol his chariot guide, +From conquer'd Corinth, rich with Grecian spoils. +And yet another, fam'd for warlike toils, +On Argos shall impose the Roman laws, +And on the Greeks revenge the Trojan cause; +Shall drag in chains their Achillean race; +Shall vindicate his ancestors' disgrace, +And Pallas, for her violated place. +Great Cato there, for gravity renown'd, +And conqu'ring Cossus goes with laurels crown'd. +Who can omit the Gracchi? who declare +The Scipios' worth, those thunderbolts of war, +The double bane of Carthage? Who can see +Without esteem for virtuous poverty, +Severe Fabricius, or can cease t' admire +The plowman consul in his coarse attire? +Tir'd as I am, my praise the Fabii claim; +And thou, great hero, greatest of thy name, +Ordain'd in war to save the sinking state, +And, by delays, to put a stop to fate! +Let others better mold the running mass +Of metals, and inform the breathing brass, +And soften into flesh a marble face; +Plead better at the bar; describe the skies, +And when the stars descend, and when they rise. +But, Rome, 't is thine alone, with awful sway, +To rule mankind, and make the world obey, +Disposing peace and war by thy own majestic way; +To tame the proud, the fetter'd slave to free: +These are imperial arts, and worthy thee." + +He paus'd; and, while with wond'ring eyes they view'd +The passing spirits, thus his speech renew'd: +"See great Marcellus! how, untir'd in toils, +He moves with manly grace, how rich with regal spoils! +He, when his country, threaten'd with alarms, +Requires his courage and his conqu'ring arms, +Shall more than once the Punic bands affright; +Shall kill the Gaulish king in single fight; +Then to the Capitol in triumph move, +And the third spoils shall grace Feretrian Jove." +Aeneas here beheld, of form divine, +A godlike youth in glitt'ring armor shine, +With great Marcellus keeping equal pace; +But gloomy were his eyes, dejected was his face. +He saw, and, wond'ring, ask'd his airy guide, +What and of whence was he, who press'd the hero's side: +"His son, or one of his illustrious name? +How like the former, and almost the same! +Observe the crowds that compass him around; +All gaze, and all admire, and raise a shouting sound: +But hov'ring mists around his brows are spread, +And night, with sable shades, involves his head." +"Seek not to know," the ghost replied with tears, +"The sorrows of thy sons in future years. +This youth (the blissful vision of a day) +Shall just be shown on earth, and snatch'd away. +The gods too high had rais'd the Roman state, +Were but their gifts as permanent as great. +What groans of men shall fill the Martian field! +How fierce a blaze his flaming pile shall yield! +What fun'ral pomp shall floating Tiber see, +When, rising from his bed, he views the sad solemnity! +No youth shall equal hopes of glory give, +No youth afford so great a cause to grieve; +The Trojan honor, and the Roman boast, +Admir'd when living, and ador'd when lost! +Mirror of ancient faith in early youth! +Undaunted worth, inviolable truth! +No foe, unpunish'd, in the fighting field +Shall dare thee, foot to foot, with sword and shield; +Much less in arms oppose thy matchless force, +When thy sharp spurs shall urge thy foaming horse. +Ah! couldst thou break thro' fate's severe decree, +A new Marcellus shall arise in thee! +Full canisters of fragrant lilies bring, +Mix'd with the purple roses of the spring; +Let me with fun'ral flow'rs his body strow; +This gift which parents to their children owe, +This unavailing gift, at least, I may bestow!" +Thus having said, he led the hero round +The confines of the blest Elysian ground; +Which when Anchises to his son had shown, +And fir'd his mind to mount the promis'd throne, +He tells the future wars, ordain'd by fate; +The strength and customs of the Latian state; +The prince, and people; and forearms his care +With rules, to push his fortune, or to bear. + +Two gates the silent house of Sleep adorn; +Of polish'd ivory this, that of transparent horn: +True visions thro' transparent horn arise; +Thro' polish'd ivory pass deluding lies. +Of various things discoursing as he pass'd, +Anchises hither bends his steps at last. +Then, thro' the gate of iv'ry, he dismiss'd +His valiant offspring and divining guest. +Straight to the ships Aeneas his way, +Embark'd his men, and skimm'd along the sea, +Still coasting, till he gain'd Cajeta's bay. +At length on oozy ground his galleys moor; +Their heads are turn'd to sea, their sterns to shore. +BOOK VII + +And thou, O matron of immortal fame, +Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name; +Cajeta still the place is call'd from thee, +The nurse of great Aeneas' infancy. +Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains; +Thy name ('t is all a ghost can have) remains. + +Now, when the prince her fun'ral rites had paid, +He plow'd the Tyrrhene seas with sails display'd. +From land a gentle breeze arose by night, +Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright, +And the sea trembled with her silver light. +Now near the shelves of Circe's shores they run, +(Circe the rich, the daughter of the Sun,) +A dang'rous coast: the goddess wastes her days +In joyous songs; the rocks resound her lays: +In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night, +And cedar brands supply her father's light. +From hence were heard, rebellowing to the main, +The roars of lions that refuse the chain, +The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of bears, +And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors' ears. +These from their caverns, at the close of night, +Fill the sad isle with horror and affright. +Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe's pow'r, +(That watch'd the moon and planetary hour,) +With words and wicked herbs from humankind +Had alter'd, and in brutal shapes confin'd. +Which monsters lest the Trojans' pious host +Should bear, or touch upon th' inchanted coast, +Propitious Neptune steer'd their course by night +With rising gales that sped their happy flight. +Supplied with these, they skim the sounding shore, +And hear the swelling surges vainly roar. +Now, when the rosy morn began to rise, +And wav'd her saffron streamer thro' the skies; +When Thetis blush'd in purple not her own, +And from her face the breathing winds were blown, +A sudden silence sate upon the sea, +And sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way. +The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood, +Which thick with shades and a brown horror stood: +Betwixt the trees the Tiber took his course, +With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force, +That drove the sand along, he took his way, +And roll'd his yellow billows to the sea. +About him, and above, and round the wood, +The birds that haunt the borders of his flood, +That bath'd within, or basked upon his side, +To tuneful songs their narrow throats applied. +The captain gives command; the joyful train +Glide thro' the gloomy shade, and leave the main. + +Now, Erato, thy poet's mind inspire, +And fill his soul with thy celestial fire! +Relate what Latium was; her ancient kings; +Declare the past and state of things, +When first the Trojan fleet Ausonia sought, +And how the rivals lov'd, and how they fought. +These are my theme, and how the war began, +And how concluded by the godlike man: +For I shall sing of battles, blood, and rage, +Which princes and their people did engage; +And haughty souls, that, mov'd with mutual hate, +In fighting fields pursued and found their fate; +That rous'd the Tyrrhene realm with loud alarms, +And peaceful Italy involv'd in arms. +A larger scene of action is display'd; +And, rising hence, a greater work is weigh'd. + +Latinus, old and mild, had long possess'd +The Latin scepter, and his people blest: +His father Faunus; a Laurentian dame +His mother; fair Marica was her name. +But Faunus came from Picus: Picus drew +His birth from Saturn, if records be true. +Thus King Latinus, in the third degree, +Had Saturn author of his family. +But this old peaceful prince, as Heav'n decreed, +Was blest with no male issue to succeed: +His sons in blooming youth were snatch'd by fate; +One only daughter heir'd the royal state. +Fir'd with her love, and with ambition led, +The neighb'ring princes court her nuptial bed. +Among the crowd, but far above the rest, +Young Turnus to the beauteous maid address'd. +Turnus, for high descent and graceful mien, +Was first, and favor'd by the Latian queen; +With him she strove to join Lavinia's hand, +But dire portents the purpos'd match withstand. + +Deep in the palace, of long growth, there stood +A laurel's trunk, a venerable wood; +Where rites divine were paid; whose holy hair +Was kept and cut with superstitious care. +This plant Latinus, when his town he wall'd, +Then found, and from the tree Laurentum call'd; +And last, in honor of his new abode, +He vow'd the laurel to the laurel's god. +It happen'd once (a boding prodigy!) +A swarm of bees, that cut the liquid sky, +(Unknown from whence they took their airy flight,) +Upon the topmost branch in clouds alight; +There with their clasping feet together clung, +And a long cluster from the laurel hung. +An ancient augur prophesied from hence: +"Behold on Latian shores a foreign prince! +From the same parts of heav'n his navy stands, +To the same parts on earth; his army lands; +The town he conquers, and the tow'r commands." + +Yet more, when fair Lavinia fed the fire +Before the gods, and stood beside her sire, +(Strange to relate!) the flames, involv'd in smoke +Of incense, from the sacred altar broke, +Caught her dishevel'd hair and rich attire; +Her crown and jewels crackled in the fire: +From thence the fuming trail began to spread +And lambent glories danc'd about her head. +This new portent the seer with wonder views, +Then pausing, thus his prophecy renews: +"The nymph, who scatters flaming fires around, +Shall shine with honor, shall herself be crown'd; +But, caus'd by her irrevocable fate, +War shall the country waste, and change the state." + +Latinus, frighted with this dire ostent, +For counsel to his father Faunus went, +And sought the shades renown'd for prophecy +Which near Albunea's sulph'rous fountain lie. +To these the Latian and the Sabine land +Fly, when distress'd, and thence relief demand. +The priest on skins of off'rings takes his ease, +And nightly visions in his slumber sees; +A swarm of thin aerial shapes appears, +And, flutt'ring round his temples, deafs his ears: +These he consults, the future fates to know, +From pow'rs above, and from the fiends below. +Here, for the gods' advice, Latinus flies, +Off'ring a hundred sheep for sacrifice: +Their woolly fleeces, as the rites requir'd, +He laid beneath him, and to rest retir'd. +No sooner were his eyes in slumber bound, +When, from above, a more than mortal sound +Invades his ears; and thus the vision spoke: +"Seek not, my seed, in Latian bands to yoke +Our fair Lavinia, nor the gods provoke. +A foreign son upon thy shore descends, +Whose martial fame from pole to pole extends. +His race, in arms and arts of peace renown'd, +Not Latium shall contain, nor Europe bound: +'T is theirs whate'er the sun surveys around." +These answers, in the silent night receiv'd, +The king himself divulg'd, the land believ'd: +The fame thro' all the neighb'ring nations flew, +When now the Trojan navy was in view. + +Beneath a shady tree, the hero spread +His table on the turf, with cakes of bread; +And, with his chiefs, on forest fruits he fed. +They sate; and, (not without the god's command,) +Their homely fare dispatch'd, the hungry band +Invade their trenchers next, and soon devour, +To mend the scanty meal, their cakes of flour. +Ascanius this observ'd, and smiling said: +"See, we devour the plates on which we fed." +The speech had omen, that the Trojan race +Should find repose, and this the time and place. +Aeneas took the word, and thus replies, +Confessing fate with wonder in his eyes: +"All hail, O earth! all hail, my household gods! +Behold the destin'd place of your abodes! +For thus Anchises prophesied of old, +And this our fatal place of rest foretold: +'When, on a foreign shore, instead of meat, +By famine forc'd, your trenchers you shall eat, +Then ease your weary Trojans will attend, +And the long labors of your voyage end. +Remember on that happy coast to build, +And with a trench inclose the fruitful field.' +This was that famine, this the fatal place +Which ends the wand'ring of our exil'd race. +Then, on to-morrow's dawn, your care employ, +To search the land, and where the cities lie, +And what the men; but give this day to joy. +Now pour to Jove; and, after Jove is blest, +Call great Anchises to the genial feast: +Crown high the goblets with a cheerful draught; +Enjoy the present hour; adjourn the future thought." + +Thus having said, the hero bound his brows +With leafy branches, then perform'd his vows; +Adoring first the genius of the place, +Then Earth, the mother of the heav'nly race, +The nymphs, and native godheads yet unknown, +And Night, and all the stars that gild her sable throne, +And ancient Cybel, and Idaean Jove, +And last his sire below, and mother queen above. +Then heav'n's high monarch thunder'd thrice aloud, +And thrice he shook aloft a golden cloud. +Soon thro' the joyful camp a rumor flew, +The time was come their city to renew. +Then ev'ry brow with cheerful green is crown'd, +The feasts are doubled, and the bowls go round. + +When next the rosy morn disclos'd the day, +The scouts to sev'ral parts divide their way, +To learn the natives' names, their towns explore, +The coasts and trendings of the crooked shore: +Here Tiber flows, and here Numicus stands; +Here warlike Latins hold the happy lands. +The pious chief, who sought by peaceful ways +To found his empire, and his town to raise, +A hundred youths from all his train selects, +And to the Latian court their course directs, +(The spacious palace where their prince resides,) +And all their heads with wreaths of olive hides. +They go commission'd to require a peace, +And carry presents to procure access. +Thus while they speed their pace, the prince designs +His new-elected seat, and draws the lines. +The Trojans round the place a rampire cast, +And palisades about the trenches plac'd. + +Meantime the train, proceeding on their way, +From far the town and lofty tow'rs survey; +At length approach the walls. Without the gate, +They see the boys and Latian youth debate +The martial prizes on the dusty plain: +Some drive the cars, and some the coursers rein; +Some bend the stubborn bow for victory, +And some with darts their active sinews try. +A posting messenger, dispatch'd from hence, +Of this fair troop advis'd their aged prince, +That foreign men of mighty stature came; +Uncouth their habit, and unknown their name. +The king ordains their entrance, and ascends +His regal seat, surrounded by his friends. + +The palace built by Picus, vast and proud, +Supported by a hundred pillars stood, +And round incompass'd with a rising wood. +The pile o'erlook'd the town, and drew the sight; +Surpris'd at once with reverence and delight. +There kings receiv'd the marks of sov'reign pow'r; +In state the monarchs march'd; the lictors bore +Their awful axes and the rods before. +Here the tribunal stood, the house of pray'r, +And here the sacred senators repair; +All at large tables, in long order set, +A ram their off'ring, and a ram their meat. +Above the portal, carv'd in cedar wood, +Plac'd in their ranks, their godlike grandsires stood; +Old Saturn, with his crooked scythe, on high; +And Italus, that led the colony; +And ancient Janus, with his double face, +And bunch of keys, the porter of the place. +There good Sabinus, planter of the vines, +On a short pruning hook his head reclines, +And studiously surveys his gen'rous wines; +Then warlike kings, who for their country fought, +And honorable wounds from battle brought. +Around the posts hung helmets, darts, and spears, +And captive chariots, axes, shields, and bars, +And broken beaks of ships, the trophies of their wars. +Above the rest, as chief of all the band, +Was Picus plac'd, a buckler in his hand; +His other wav'd a long divining wand. +Girt in his Gabin gown the hero sate, +Yet could not with his art avoid his fate: +For Circe long had lov'd the youth in vain, +Till love, refus'd, converted to disdain: +Then, mixing pow'rful herbs, with magic art, +She chang'd his form, who could not change his heart; +Constrain'd him in a bird, and made him fly, +With party-color'd plumes, a chatt'ring pie. + +In this high temple, on a chair of state, +The seat of audience, old Latinus sate; +Then gave admission to the Trojan train; +And thus with pleasing accents he began: +"Tell me, ye Trojans, for that name you own, +Nor is your course upon our coasts unknown- +Say what you seek, and whither were you bound: +Were you by stress of weather cast aground? +(Such dangers as on seas are often seen, +And oft befall to miserable men,) +Or come, your shipping in our ports to lay, +Spent and disabled in so long a way? +Say what you want: the Latians you shall find +Not forc'd to goodness, but by will inclin'd; +For, since the time of Saturn's holy reign, +His hospitable customs we retain. +I call to mind (but time the tale has worn) +Th' Arunci told, that Dardanus, tho' born +On Latian plains, yet sought the Phrygian shore, +And Samothracia, Samos call'd before. +From Tuscan Coritum he claim'd his birth; +But after, when exempt from mortal earth, +From thence ascended to his kindred skies, +A god, and, as a god, augments their sacrifice," + +He said. Ilioneus made this reply: +"O king, of Faunus' royal family! +Nor wintry winds to Latium forc'd our way, +Nor did the stars our wand'ring course betray. +Willing we sought your shores; and, hither bound, +The port, so long desir'd, at length we found; +From our sweet homes and ancient realms expell'd; +Great as the greatest that the sun beheld. +The god began our line, who rules above; +And, as our race, our king descends from Jove: +And hither are we come, by his command, +To crave admission in your happy land. +How dire a tempest, from Mycenae pour'd, +Our plains, our temples, and our town devour'd; +What was the waste of war, what fierce alarms +Shook Asia's crown with European arms; +Ev'n such have heard, if any such there be, +Whose earth is bounded by the frozen sea; +And such as, born beneath the burning sky +And sultry sun, betwixt the tropics lie. +From that dire deluge, thro' the wat'ry waste, +Such length of years, such various perils past, +At last escap'd, to Latium we repair, +To beg what you without your want may spare: +The common water, and the common air; +Sheds which ourselves will build, and mean abodes, +Fit to receive and serve our banish'd gods. +Nor our admission shall your realm disgrace, +Nor length of time our gratitude efface. +Besides, what endless honor you shall gain, +To save and shelter Troy's unhappy train! +Now, by my sov'reign, and his fate, I swear, +Renown'd for faith in peace, for force in war; +Oft our alliance other lands desir'd, +And, what we seek of you, of us requir'd. +Despite not then, that in our hands we bear +These holy boughs, sue with words of pray'r. +Fate and the gods, by their supreme command, +Have doom'd our ships to seek the Latian land. +To these abodes our fleet Apollo sends; +Here Dardanus was born, and hither tends; +Where Tuscan Tiber rolls with rapid force, +And where Numicus opes his holy source. +Besides, our prince presents, with his request, +Some small remains of what his sire possess'd. +This golden charger, snatch'd from burning Troy, +Anchises did in sacrifice employ; +This royal robe and this tiara wore +Old Priam, and this golden scepter bore +In full assemblies, and in solemn games; +These purple vests were weav'd by Dardan dames." + +Thus while he spoke, Latinus roll'd around +His eyes, and fix'd a while upon the ground. +Intent he seem'd, and anxious in his breast; +Not by the scepter mov'd, or kingly vest, +But pond'ring future things of wondrous weight; +Succession, empire, and his daughter's fate. +On these he mus'd within his thoughtful mind, +And then revolv'd what Faunus had divin'd. +This was the foreign prince, by fate decreed +To share his scepter, and Lavinia's bed; +This was the race that sure portents foreshew +To sway the world, and land and sea subdue. +At length he rais'd his cheerful head, and spoke: +"The pow'rs," said he, "the pow'rs we both invoke, +To you, and yours, and mine, propitious be, +And firm our purpose with their augury! +Have what you ask; your presents I receive; +Land, where and when you please, with ample leave; +Partake and use my kingdom as your own; +All shall be yours, while I command the crown: +And, if my wish'd alliance please your king, +Tell him he should not send the peace, but bring. +Then let him not a friend's embraces fear; +The peace is made when I behold him here. +Besides this answer, tell my royal guest, +I add to his commands my own request: +One only daughter heirs my crown and state, +Whom not our oracles, nor Heav'n, nor fate, +Nor frequent prodigies, permit to join +With any native of th' Ausonian line. +A foreign son-in-law shall come from far +(Such is our doom), a chief renown'd in war, +Whose race shall bear aloft the Latian name, +And thro' the conquer'd world diffuse our fame. +Himself to be the man the fates require, +I firmly judge, and, what I judge, desire." + +He said, and then on each bestow'd a steed. +Three hundred horses, in high stables fed, +Stood ready, shining all, and smoothly dress'd: +Of these he chose the fairest and the best, +To mount the Trojan troop. At his command +The steeds caparison'd with purple stand, +With golden trappings, glorious to behold, +And champ betwixt their teeth the foaming gold. +Then to his absent guest the king decreed +A pair of coursers born of heav'nly breed, +Who from their nostrils breath'd ethereal fire; +Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire, +By substituting mares produc'd on earth, +Whose wombs conceiv'd a more than mortal birth. +These draw the chariot which Latinus sends, +And the rich present to the prince commends. +Sublime on stately steeds the Trojans borne, +To their expecting lord with peace return. + +But jealous Juno, from Pachynus' height, +As she from Argos took her airy flight, +Beheld with envious eyes this hateful sight. +She saw the Trojan and his joyful train +Descend upon the shore, desert the main, +Design a town, and, with unhop'd success, +Th' embassadors return with promis'd peace. +Then, pierc'd with pain, she shook her haughty head, +Sigh'd from her inward soul, and thus she said: +"O hated offspring of my Phrygian foes! +O fates of Troy, which Juno's fates oppose! +Could they not fall unpitied on the plain, +But slain revive, and, taken, scape again? +When execrable Troy in ashes lay, +Thro' fires and swords and seas they forc'd their way. +Then vanquish'd Juno must in vain contend, +Her rage disarm'd, her empire at an end. +Breathless and tir'd, is all my fury spent? +Or does my glutted spleen at length relent? +As if 't were little from their town to chase, +I thro' the seas pursued their exil'd race; +Ingag'd the heav'ns, oppos'd the stormy main; +But billows roar'd, and tempests rag'd in vain. +What have my Scyllas and my Syrtes done, +When these they overpass, and those they shun? +On Tiber's shores they land, secure of fate, +Triumphant o'er the storms and Juno's hate. +Mars could in mutual blood the Centaurs bathe, +And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia's wrath, +Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon; +(What great offense had either people done?) +But I, the consort of the Thunderer, +Have wag'd a long and unsuccessful war, +With various arts and arms in vain have toil'd, +And by a mortal man at length am foil'd. +If native pow'r prevail not, shall I doubt +To seek for needful succor from without? +If Jove and Heav'n my just desires deny, +Hell shall the pow'r of Heav'n and Jove supply. +Grant that the Fates have firm'd, by their decree, +The Trojan race to reign in Italy; +At least I can defer the nuptial day, +And with protracted wars the peace delay: +With blood the dear alliance shall be bought, +And both the people near destruction brought; +So shall the son-in-law and father join, +With ruin, war, and waste of either line. +O fatal maid, thy marriage is endow'd +With Phrygian, Latian, andRutulian blood! +Bellona leads thee to thy lover's hand; +Another queen brings forth another brand, +To burn with foreign fires another land! +A second Paris, diff'ring but in name, +Shall fire his country with a second flame." + +Thus having said, she sinks beneath the ground, +With furious haste, and shoots the Stygian sound, +To rouse Alecto from th' infernal seat +Of her dire sisters, and their dark retreat. +This Fury, fit for her intent, she chose; +One who delights in wars and human woes. +Ev'n Pluto hates his own misshapen race; +Her sister Furies fly her hideous face; +So frightful are the forms the monster takes, +So fierce the hissings of her speckled snakes. +Her Juno finds, and thus inflames her spite: +"O virgin daughter of eternal Night, +Give me this once thy labor, to sustain +My right, and execute my just disdain. +Let not the Trojans, with a feign'd pretense +Of proffer'd peace, delude the Latian prince. +Expel from Italy that odious name, +And let not Juno suffer in her fame. +'T is thine to ruin realms, o'erturn a state, +Betwixt the dearest friends to raise debate, +And kindle kindred blood to mutual hate. +Thy hand o'er towns the fun'ral torch displays, +And forms a thousand ills ten thousand ways. +Now shake, out thy fruitful breast, the seeds +Of envy, discord, and of cruel deeds: +Confound the peace establish'd, and prepare +Their souls to hatred, and their hands to war." + +Smear'd as she was with black Gorgonian blood, +The Fury sprang above the Stygian flood; +And on her wicker wings, sublime thro' night, +She to the Latian palace took her flight: +There sought the queen's apartment, stood before +The peaceful threshold, and besieg'd the door. +Restless Amata lay, her swelling breast +Fir'd with disdain for Turnus dispossess'd, +And the new nuptials of the Trojan guest. +From her black bloody locks the Fury shakes +Her darling plague, the fav'rite of her snakes; +With her full force she threw the poisonous dart, +And fix'd it deep within Amata's heart, +That, thus envenom'd, she might kindle rage, +And sacrifice to strife her house husband's age. +Unseen, unfelt, the fiery serpent skims +Betwixt her linen and her naked limbs; +His baleful breath inspiring, as he glides, +Now like a chain around her neck he rides, +Now like a fillet to her head repairs, +And with his circling volumes folds her hairs. +At first the silent venom slid with ease, +And seiz'd her cooler senses by degrees; +Then, ere th' infected mass was fir'd too far, +In plaintive accents she began the war, +And thus bespoke her husband: "Shall," she said, +"A wand'ring prince enjoy Lavinia's bed? +If nature plead not in a parent's heart, +Pity my tears, and pity her desert. +I know, my dearest lord, the time will come, +You in vain, reverse your cruel doom; +The faithless pirate soon will set to sea, +And bear the royal virgin far away! +A guest like him, a Trojan guest before, +In shew of friendship sought the Spartan shore, +And ravish'd Helen from her husband bore. +Think on a king's inviolable word; +And think on Turnus, her once plighted lord: +To this false foreigner you give your throne, +And wrong a friend, a kinsman, and a son. +Resume your ancient care; and, if the god +Your sire, and you, resolve on foreign blood, +Know all are foreign, in a larger sense, +Not born your subjects, or deriv'd from hence. +Then, if the line of Turnus you retrace, +He springs from Inachus of Argive race." + +But when she saw her reasons idly spent, +And could not move him from his fix'd intent, +She flew to rage; for now the snake possess'd +Her vital parts, and poison'd all her breast; +She raves, she runs with a distracted pace, +And fills with horrid howls the public place. +And, as young striplings whip the top for sport, +On the smooth pavement of an empty court; +The wooden engine flies and whirls about, +Admir'd, with clamors, of the beardless rout; +They lash aloud; each other they provoke, +And lend their little souls at ev'ry stroke: +Thus fares the queen; and thus her fury blows +Amidst the crowd, and kindles as she goes. +Nor yet content, she strains her malice more, +And adds new ills to those contriv'd before: +She flies the town, and, mixing with a throng +Of madding matrons, bears the bride along, +Wand'ring thro' woods and wilds, and devious ways, +And with these arts the Trojan match delays. +She feign'd the rites of Bacchus; cried aloud, +And to the buxom god the virgin vow'd. +"Evoe! O Bacchus!" thus began the song; +And "Evoe!" answer'd all the female throng. +"O virgin! worthy thee alone!" she cried; +"O worthy thee alone!" the crew replied. +"For thee she feeds her hair, she leads thy dance, +And with thy winding ivy wreathes her lance." +Like fury seiz'd the rest; the progress known, +All seek the mountains, and forsake the town: +All, clad in skins of beasts, the jav'lin bear, +Give to the wanton winds their flowing hair, +And shrieks and shoutings rend the suff'ring air. +The queen herself, inspir'd with rage divine, +Shook high above her head a flaming pine; +Then roll'd her haggard eyes around the throng, +And sung, in Turnus' name, the nuptial song: +"Io, ye Latian dames! if any here +Hold your unhappy queen, Amata, dear; +If there be here," she said, who dare maintain +My right, nor think the name of mother vain; +Unbind your fillets, loose your flowing hair, +And orgies and nocturnal rites prepare." + +Amata's breast the Fury thus invades, +And fires with rage, amid the sylvan shades; +Then, when she found her venom spread so far, +The royal house embroil'd in civil war, +Rais'd on her dusky wings, she cleaves the skies, +And seeks the palace where young Turnus lies. +His town, as fame reports, was built of old +By Danae, pregnant with almighty gold, +Who fled her father's rage, and, with a train +Of following Argives, thro' the stormy main, +Driv'n by the southern blasts, was fated here to reign. +'T was Ardua once; now Ardea's name it bears; +Once a fair city, now consum'd with years. +Here, in his lofty palace, Turnus lay, +Betwixt the confines of the night and day, +Secure in sleep. The Fury laid aside +Her looks and limbs, and with new methods tried +The foulness of th' infernal form to hide. +Propp'd on a staff, she takes a trembling mien: +Her face is furrow'd, and her front obscene; +Deep-dinted wrinkles on her cheek she draws; +Sunk are her eyes, and toothless are her jaws; +Her hoary hair with holy fillets bound, +Her temples with an olive wreath are crown'd. +Old Chalybe, who kept the sacred fane +Of Juno, now she seem'd, and thus began, +Appearing in a dream, to rouse the careless man: +"Shall Turnus then such endless toil sustain +In fighting fields, and conquer towns in vain? +Win, for a Trojan head to wear the prize, +Usurp thy crown, enjoy thy victories? +The bride and scepter which thy blood has bought, +The king transfers; and foreign heirs are sought. +Go now, deluded man, and seek again +New toils, new dangers, on the dusty plain. +Repel the Tuscan foes; their city seize; +Protect the Latians in luxurious ease. +This dream all-pow'rful Juno sends; I bear +Her mighty mandates, and her words you hear. +Haste; arm your Ardeans; issue to the plain; +With fate to friend, assault the Trojan train: +Their thoughtless chiefs, their painted ships, that lie +In Tiber's mouth, with fire and sword destroy. +The Latian king, unless he shall submit, +Own his old promise, and his new forget- +Let him, in arms, the pow'r of Turnus prove, +And learn to fear whom he disdains to love. +For such is Heav'n's command." The youthful prince +With scorn replied, and made this bold defense: +"You tell me, mother, what I knew before: +The Phrygian fleet is landed on the shore. +I neither fear nor will provoke the war; +My fate is Juno's most peculiar care. +But time has made you dote, and vainly tell +Of arms imagin'd in your lonely cell. +Go; be the temple and the gods your care; +Permit to men the thought of peace and war." + +These haughty words Alecto's rage provoke, +And frighted Turnus trembled as she spoke. +Her eyes grow stiffen'd, and with sulphur burn; +Her hideous looks and hellish form return; +Her curling snakes with hissings fill the place, +And open all the furies of her face: +Then, darting fire from her malignant eyes, +She cast him backward as he strove to rise, +And, ling'ring, sought to frame some new replies. +High on her head she rears two twisted snakes, +Her chains she rattles, and her whip she shakes; +And, churning bloody foam, thus loudly speaks: +"Behold whom time has made to dote, and tell +Of arms imagin'd in her lonely cell! +Behold the Fates' infernal minister! +War, death, destruction, in my hand I bear." + +Thus having said, her smold'ring torch, impress'd +With her full force, she plung'd into his breast. +Aghast he wak'd; and, starting from his bed, +Cold sweat, in clammy drops, his limbs o'erspread. +"Arms! arms!" he cries: "my sword and shield prepare!" +He breathes defiance, blood, and mortal war. +So, when with crackling flames a caldron fries, +The bubbling waters from the bottom rise: +Above the brims they force their fiery way; +Black vapors climb aloft, and cloud the day. + +The peace polluted thus, a chosen band +He first commissions to the Latian land, +In threat'ning embassy; then rais'd the rest, +To meet in arms th' intruding Trojan guest, +To force the foes from the Lavinian shore, +And Italy's indanger'd peace restore. +Himself alone an equal match he boasts, +To fight the Phrygian and Ausonian hosts. +The gods invok'd, the Rutuli prepare +Their arms, and warn each other to the war. +His beauty these, and those his blooming age, +The rest his house and his own fame ingage. + +While Turnus urges thus his enterprise, +The Stygian Fury to the Trojans flies; +New frauds invents, and takes a steepy stand, +Which overlooks the vale with wide command; +Where fair Ascanius and his youthful train, +With horns and hounds, a hunting match ordain, +And pitch their toils around the shady plain. +The Fury fires the pack; they snuff, they vent, +And feed their hungry nostrils with the scent. +'Twas of a well-grown stag, whose antlers rise +High o'er his front; his beams invade the skies. +From this light cause th' infernal maid prepares +The country churls to mischief, hate, and wars. + +The stately beast the two Tyrrhidae bred, +Snatch'd from his dams, and the tame youngling fed. +Their father Tyrrheus did his fodder bring, +Tyrrheus, chief ranger to the Latian king: +Their sister Silvia cherish'd with her care +The little wanton, and did wreaths prepare +To hang his budding horns, with ribbons tied +His tender neck, and comb'd his silken hide, +And bathed his body. Patient of command +In time he grew, and, growing us'd to hand, +He waited at his master's board for food; +Then sought his salvage kindred in the wood, +Where grazing all the day, at night he came +To his known lodgings, and his country dame. + +This household beast, that us'd the woodland grounds, +Was view'd at first by the young hero's hounds, +As down the stream he swam, to seek retreat +In the cool waters, and to quench his heat. +Ascanius young, and eager of his game, +Soon bent his bow, uncertain in his aim; +But the dire fiend the fatal arrow guides, +Which pierc'd his bowels thro' his panting sides. +The bleeding creature issues from the floods, +Possess'd with fear, and seeks his known abodes, +His old familiar hearth and household gods. +He falls; he fills the house with heavy groans, +Implores their pity, and his pain bemoans. +Young Silvia beats her breast, and cries aloud +For succor from the clownish neighborhood: +The churls assemble; for the fiend, who lay +In the close woody covert, urg'd their way. +One with a brand yet burning from the flame, +Arm'd with a knotty club another came: +Whate'er they catch or find, without their care, +Their fury makes an instrument of war. +Tyrrheus, the foster father of the beast, +Then clench'd a hatchet in his horny fist, +But held his hand from the descending stroke, +And left his wedge within the cloven oak, +To whet their courage and their rage provoke. +And now the goddess, exercis'd in ill, +Who watch'd an hour to work her impious will, +Ascends the roof, and to her crooked horn, +Such as was then by Latian shepherds borne, +Adds all her breath: the rocks and woods around, +And mountains, tremble at th' infernal sound. +The sacred lake of Trivia from afar, +The Veline fountains, and sulphureous Nar, +Shake at the baleful blast, the signal of the war. +Young mothers wildly stare, with fear possess'd, +And strain their helpless infants to their breast. + +The clowns, a boist'rous, rude, ungovern'd crew, +With furious haste to the loud summons flew. +The pow'rs of Troy, then issuing on the plain, +With fresh recruits their youthful chief sustain: +Not theirs a raw and unexperienc'd train, +But a firm body of embattled men. +At first, while fortune favor'd neither side, +The fight with clubs and burning brands was tried; +But now, both parties reinforc'd, the fields +Are bright with flaming swords and brazen shields. +A shining harvest either host displays, +And shoots against the sun with equal rays. +Thus, when a black-brow'd gust begins to rise, +White foam at first on the curl'd ocean fries; +Then roars the main, the billows mount the skies; +Till, by the fury of the storm full blown, +The muddy bottom o'er the clouds is thrown. +First Almon falls, old Tyrrheus' eldest care, +Pierc'd with an arrow from the distant war: +Fix'd in his throat the flying weapon stood, +And stopp'd his breath, and drank his vital blood +Huge heaps of slain around the body rise: +Among the rest, the rich Galesus lies; +A good old man, while peace he preach'd in vain, +Amidst the madness of th' unruly train: +Five herds, five bleating flocks, his pastures fill'd; +His lands a hundred yoke of oxen till'd. + +Thus, while in equal scales their fortune stood +The Fury bath'd them in each other's blood; +Then, having fix'd the fight, exulting flies, +And bears fulfill'd her promise to the skies. +To Juno thus she speaks: "Behold! It is done, +The blood already drawn, the war begun; +The discord is complete; nor can they cease +The dire debate, nor you command the peace. +Now, since the Latian and the Trojan brood +Have tasted vengeance and the sweets of blood; +Speak, and my pow'r shall add this office more: +The neighb'ing nations of th' Ausonian shore +Shall hear the dreadful rumor, from afar, +Of arm'd invasion, and embrace the war." +Then Juno thus: "The grateful work is done, +The seeds of discord sow'd, the war begun; +Frauds, fears, and fury have possess'd the state, +And fix'd the causes of a lasting hate. +A bloody Hymen shall th' alliance join +Betwixt the Trojan and Ausonian line: +But thou with speed to night and hell repair; +For not the gods, nor angry Jove, will bear +Thy lawless wand'ring walks in upper air. +Leave what remains to me." Saturnia said: +The sullen fiend her sounding wings display'd, +Unwilling left the light, and sought the nether shade. + +In midst of Italy, well known to fame, +There lies a lake (Amsanctus is the name) +Below the lofty mounts: on either side +Thick forests the forbidden entrance hide. +Full in the center of the sacred wood +An arm arises of the Stygian flood, +Which, breaking from beneath with bellowing sound, +Whirls the black waves and rattling stones around. +Here Pluto pants for breath from out his cell, +And opens wide the grinning jaws of hell. +To this infernal lake the Fury flies; +Here hides her hated head, and frees the lab'ring skies. + +Saturnian Juno now, with double care, +Attends the fatal process of the war. +The clowns, return'd, from battle bear the slain, +Implore the gods, and to their king complain. +The corps of Almon and the rest are shown; +Shrieks, clamors, murmurs, fill the frighted town. +Ambitious Turnus in the press appears, +And, aggravating crimes, augments their fears; +Proclaims his private injuries aloud, +A solemn promise made, and disavow'd; +A foreign son is sought, and a mix'd mungril brood. +Then they, whose mothers, frantic with their fear, +In woods and wilds the flags of Bacchus bear, +And lead his dances with dishevel'd hair, +Increase the clamor, and the war demand, +(Such was Amata's interest in the land,) +Against the public sanctions of the peace, +Against all omens of their ill success. +With fates averse, the rout in arms resort, +To force their monarch, and insult the court. +But, like a rock unmov'd, a rock that braves +The raging tempest and the rising waves- +Propp'd on himself he stands; his solid sides +Wash off the seaweeds, and the sounding tides- +So stood the pious prince, unmov'd, and long +Sustain'd the madness of the noisy throng. +But, when he found that Juno's pow'r prevail'd, +And all the methods of cool counsel fail'd, +He calls the gods to witness their offense, +Disclaims the war, asserts his innocence. +"Hurried by fate," he cries, "and borne before +A furious wind, we have the faithful shore. +O more than madmen! you yourselves shall bear +The guilt of blood and sacrilegious war: +Thou, Turnus, shalt atone it by thy fate, +And pray to Heav'n for peace, but pray too late. +For me, my stormy voyage at an end, +I to the port of death securely tend. +The fun'ral pomp which to your kings you pay, +Is all I want, and all you take away." +He said no more, but, in his walls confin'd, +Shut out the woes which he too well divin'd +Nor with the rising storm would vainly strive, +But left the helm, and let the vessel drive. + +A solemn custom was observ'd of old, +Which Latium held, and now the Romans hold, +Their standard when in fighting fields they rear +Against the fierce Hyrcanians, or declare +The Scythian, Indian, or Arabian war; +Or from the boasting Parthians would regain +Their eagles, lost in Carrhae's bloody plain. +Two gates of steel (the name of Mars they bear, +And still are worship'd with religious fear) +Before his temple stand: the dire abode, +And the fear'd issues of the furious god, +Are fenc'd with brazen bolts; without the gates, +The wary guardian Janus doubly waits. +Then, when the sacred senate votes the wars, +The Roman consul their decree declares, +And in his robes the sounding gates unbars. +The youth in military shouts arise, +And the loud trumpets break the yielding skies. +These rites, of old by sov'reign princes us'd, +Were the king's office; but the king refus'd, +Deaf to their cries, nor would the gates unbar +Of sacred peace, or loose th' imprison'd war; +But hid his head, and, safe from loud alarms, +Abhorr'd the wicked ministry of arms. +Then heav'n's imperious queen shot down from high: +At her approach the brazen hinges fly; +The gates are forc'd, and ev'ry falling bar; +And, like a tempest, issues out the war. + +The peaceful cities of th' Ausonian shore, +Lull'd in their ease, and undisturb'd before, +Are all on fire; and some, with studious care, +Their restiff steeds in sandy plains prepare; +Some their soft limbs in painful marches try, +And war is all their wish, and arms the gen'ral cry. +Part scour the rusty shields with seam; and part +New grind the blunted ax, and point the dart: +With joy they view the waving ensigns fly, +And hear the trumpet's clangor pierce the sky. +Five cities forge their arms: th' Atinian pow'rs, +Antemnae, Tibur with her lofty tow'rs, +Ardea the proud, the Crustumerian town: +All these of old were places of renown. +Some hammer helmets for the fighting field; +Some twine young sallows to support the shield; +The croslet some, and some the cuishes mold, +With silver plated, and with ductile gold. +The rustic honors of the scythe and share +Give place to swords and plumes, the pride of war. +Old fauchions are new temper'd in the fires; +The sounding trumpet ev'ry soul inspires. +The word is giv'n; with eager speed they lace +The shining headpiece, and the shield embrace. +The neighing steeds are to the chariot tied; +The trusty weapon sits on ev'ry side. + +And now the mighty labor is begun +Ye Muses, open all your Helicon. +Sing you the chiefs that sway'd th' Ausonian land, +Their arms, and armies under their command; +What warriors in our ancient clime were bred; +What soldiers follow'd, and what heroes led. +For well you know, and can record alone, +What fame to future times conveys but darkly down. +Mezentius first appear'd upon the plain: +Scorn sate upon his brows, and sour disdain, +Defying earth and heav'n. Etruria lost, +He brings to Turnus' aid his baffled host. +The charming Lausus, full of youthful fire, +Rode in the rank, and next his sullen sire; +To Turnus only second in the grace +Of manly mien, and features of the face. +A skilful horseman, and a huntsman bred, +With fates averse a thousand men he led: +His sire unworthy of so brave a son; +Himself well worthy of a happier throne. + +Next Aventinus drives his chariot round +The Latian plains, with palms and laurels crown'd. +Proud of his steeds, he smokes along the field; +His father's hydra fills his ample shield: +A hundred serpents hiss about the brims; +The son of Hercules he justly seems +By his broad shoulders and gigantic limbs; +Of heav'nly part, and part of earthly blood, +A mortal woman mixing with a god. +For strong Alcides, after he had slain +The triple Geryon, drove from conquer'd Spain +His captive herds; and, thence in triumph led, +On Tuscan Tiber's flow'ry banks they fed. +Then on Mount Aventine the son of Jove +The priestess Rhea found, and forc'd to love. +For arms, his men long piles and jav'lins bore; +And poles with pointed steel their foes in battle gore. +Like Hercules himself his son appears, +In salvage pomp; a lion's hide he wears; +About his shoulders hangs the shaggy skin; +The teeth and gaping jaws severely grin. +Thus, like the god his father, homely dress'd, +He strides into the hall, a horrid guest. + +Then two twin brothers from fair Tibur came, +(Which from their brother Tiburs took the name,) +Fierce Coras and Catillus, void of fear: +Arm'd Argive horse they led, and in the front appear. +Like cloud-born Centaurs, from the mountain's height +With rapid course descending to the fight; +They rush along; the rattling woods give way; +The branches bend before their sweepy sway. + +Nor was Praeneste's founder wanting there, +Whom fame reports the son of Mulciber: +Found in the fire, and foster'd in the plains, +A shepherd and a king at once he reigns, +And leads to Turnus' aid his country swains. +His own Praeneste sends a chosen band, +With those who plow Saturnia's Gabine land; +Besides the succor which cold Anien yields, +The rocks of Hernicus, and dewy fields, +Anagnia fat, and Father Amasene- +A num'rous rout, but all of naked men: +Nor arms they wear, nor swords and bucklers wield, +Nor drive the chariot thro' the dusty field, +But whirl from leathern slings huge balls of lead, +And spoils of yellow wolves adorn their head; +The left foot naked, when they march to fight, +But in a bull's raw hide they sheathe the right. +Messapus next, (great Neptune was his sire,) +Secure of steel, and fated from the fire, +In pomp appears, and with his ardor warms +A heartless train, unexercis'd in arms: +The just Faliscans he to battle brings, +And those who live where Lake Ciminia springs; +And where Feronia's grove and temple stands, +Who till Fescennian or Flavinian lands. +All these in order march, and marching sing +The warlike actions of their sea-born king; +Like a long team of snowy swans on high, +Which clap their wings, and cleave the liquid sky, +When, homeward from their wat'ry pastures borne, +They sing, and Asia's lakes their notes return. +Not one who heard their music from afar, +Would think these troops an army train'd to war, +But flocks of fowl, that, when the tempests roar, +With their hoarse gabbling seek the silent shore. + +Then Clausus came, who led a num'rous band +Of troops embodied from the Sabine land, +And, in himself alone, an army brought. +'T was he, the noble Claudian race begot, +The Claudian race, ordain'd, in times to come, +To share the greatness of imperial Rome. +He led the Cures forth, of old renown, +Mutuscans from their olive-bearing town, +And all th' Eretian pow'rs; besides a band +That follow'd from Velinum's dewy land, +And Amiternian troops, of mighty fame, +And mountaineers, that from Severus came, +And from the craggy cliffs of Tetrica, +And those where yellow Tiber takes his way, +And where Himella's wanton waters play. +Casperia sends her arms, with those that lie +By Fabaris, and fruitful Foruli: +The warlike aids of Horta next appear, +And the cold Nursians come to close the rear, +Mix'd with the natives born of Latine blood, +Whom Allia washes with her fatal flood. +Not thicker billows beat the Libyan main, +When pale Orion sets in wintry rain; +Nor thicker harvests on rich Hermus rise, +Or Lycian fields, when Phoebus burns the skies, +Than stand these troops: their bucklers ring around; +Their trampling turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground. + +High in his chariot then Halesus came, +A foe by birth to Troy's unhappy name: +From Agamemnon born- to Turnus' aid +A thousand men the youthful hero led, +Who till the Massic soil, for wine renown'd, +And fierce Auruncans from their hilly ground, +And those who live by Sidicinian shores, +And where with shoaly fords Vulturnus roars, +Cales' and Osca's old inhabitants, +And rough Saticulans, inur'd to wants: +Light demi-lances from afar they throw, +Fasten'd with leathern thongs, to gall the foe. +Short crooked swords in closer fight they wear; +And on their warding arm light bucklers bear. + +Nor Oebalus, shalt thou be left unsung, +From nymph Semethis and old Telon sprung, +Who then in Teleboan Capri reign'd; +But that short isle th' ambitious youth disdain'd, +And o'er Campania stretch'd his ample sway, +Where swelling Sarnus seeks the Tyrrhene sea; +O'er Batulum, and where Abella sees, +From her high tow'rs, the harvest of her trees. +And these (as was the Teuton use of old) +Wield brazen swords, and brazen bucklers hold; +Sling weighty stones, when from afar they fight; +Their casques are cork, a covering thick and light. + +Next these in rank, the warlike Ufens went, +And led the mountain troops that Nursia sent. +The rude Equicolae his rule obey'd; +Hunting their sport, and plund'ring was their trade. +In arms they plow'd, to battle still prepar'd: +Their soil was barren, and their hearts were hard. + +Umbro the priest the proud Marrubians led, +By King Archippus sent to Turnus' aid, +And peaceful olives crown'd his hoary head. +His wand and holy words, the viper's rage, +And venom'd wounds of serpents could assuage. +He, when he pleas'd with powerful juice to steep +Their temples, shut their eyes in pleasing sleep. +But vain were Marsian herbs, and magic art, +To cure the wound giv'n by the Dardan dart: +Yet his untimely fate th' Angitian woods +In sighs remurmur'd to the Fucine floods. + +The son of fam'd Hippolytus was there, +Fam'd as his sire, and, as his mother, fair; +Whom in Egerian groves Aricia bore, +And nurs'd his youth along the marshy shore, +Where great Diana's peaceful altars flame, +In fruitful fields; and Virbius was his name. +Hippolytus, as old records have said, +Was by his stepdam sought to share her bed; +But, when no female arts his mind could move, +She turn'd to furious hate her impious love. +Torn by wild horses on the sandy shore, +Another's crimes th' unhappy hunter bore, +Glutting his father's eyes with guiltless gore. +But chaste Diana, who his death deplor'd, +With Aesculapian herbs his life restor'd. +Then Jove, who saw from high, with just disdain, +The dead inspir'd with vital breath again, +Struck to the center, with his flaming dart, +Th' unhappy founder of the godlike art. +But Trivia kept in secret shades alone +Her care, Hippolytus, to fate unknown; +And call'd him Virbius in th' Egerian grove, +Where then he liv'd obscure, but safe from Jove. +For this, from Trivia's temple and her wood +Are coursers driv'n, who shed their master's blood, +Affrighted by the monsters of the flood. +His son, the second Virbius, yet retain'd +His father's art, and warrior steeds he rein'd. + +Amid the troops, and like the leading god, +High o'er the rest in arms the graceful Turnus rode: +A triple of plumes his crest adorn'd, +On which with belching flames Chimaera burn'd: +The more the kindled combat rises high'r, +The more with fury burns the blazing fire. +Fair Io grac'd his shield; but Io now +With horns exalted stands, and seems to low- +A noble charge! Her keeper by her side, +To watch her walks, his hundred eyes applied; +And on the brims her sire, the wat'ry god, +Roll'd from a silver urn his crystal flood. +A cloud of foot succeeds, and fills the fields +With swords, and pointed spears, and clatt'ring shields; +Of Argives, and of old Sicanian bands, +And those who plow the rich Rutulian lands; +Auruncan youth, and those Sacrana yields, +And the proud Labicans, with painted shields, +And those who near Numician streams reside, +And those whom Tiber's holy forests hide, +Or Circe's hills from the main land divide; +Where Ufens glides along the lowly lands, +Or the black water of Pomptina stands. + +Last, from the Volscians fair Camilla came, +And led her warlike troops, a warrior dame; +Unbred to spinning, in the loom unskill'd, +She chose the nobler Pallas of the field. +Mix'd with the first, the fierce virago fought, +Sustain'd the toils of arms, the danger sought, +Outstripp'd the winds in speed upon the plain, +Flew o'er the fields, nor hurt the bearded grain: +She swept the seas, and, as she skimm'd along, +Her flying feet unbath'd on billows hung. +Men, boys, and women, stupid with surprise, +Where'er she passes, fix their wond'ring eyes: +Longing they look, and, gaping at the sight, +Devour her o'er and o'er with vast delight; +Her purple habit sits with such a grace +On her smooth shoulders, and so suits her face; +Her head with ringlets of her hair is crown'd, +And in a golden caul the curls are bound. +She shakes her myrtle jav'lin; and, behind, +Her Lycian quiver dances in the wind. +BOOK VIII + +When Turnus had assembled all his pow'rs, +His standard planted on Laurentum's tow'rs; +When now the sprightly trumpet, from afar, +Had giv'n the signal of approaching war, +Had rous'd the neighing steeds to scour the fields, +While the fierce riders clatter'd on their shields; +Trembling with rage, the Latian youth prepare +To join th' allies, and headlong rush to war. +Fierce Ufens, and Messapus, led the crowd, +With bold Mezentius, who blasphem'd aloud. +These thro' the country took their wasteful course, +The fields to forage, and to gather force. +Then Venulus to Diomede they send, +To beg his aid Ausonia to defend, +Declare the common danger, and inform +The Grecian leader of the growing storm: +Aeneas, landed on the Latian coast, +With banish'd gods, and with a baffled host, +Yet now aspir'd to conquest of the state, +And claim'd a title from the gods and fate; +What num'rous nations in his quarrel came, +And how they spread his formidable name. +What he design'd, what mischief might arise, +If fortune favor'd his first enterprise, +Was left for him to weigh, whose equal fears, +And common interest, was involv'd in theirs. + +While Turnus and th' allies thus urge the war, +The Trojan, floating in a flood of care, +Beholds the tempest which his foes prepare. +This way and that he turns his anxious mind; +Thinks, and rejects the counsels he design'd; +Explores himself in vain, in ev'ry part, +And gives no rest to his distracted heart. +So, when the sun by day, or moon by night, +Strike on the polish'd brass their trembling light, +The glitt'ring species here and there divide, +And cast their dubious beams from side to side; +Now on the walls, now on the pavement play, +And to the ceiling flash the glaring day. + +'T was night; and weary nature lull'd asleep +The birds of air, and fishes of the deep, +And beasts, and mortal men. The Trojan chief +Was laid on Tiber's banks, oppress'd with grief, +And found in silent slumber late relief. +Then, thro' the shadows of the poplar wood, +Arose the father of the Roman flood; +An azure robe was o'er his body spread, +A wreath of shady reeds adorn'd his head: +Thus, manifest to sight, the god appear'd, +And with these pleasing words his sorrow cheer'd: +"Undoubted offspring of ethereal race, +O long expected in this promis'd place! +Who thro' the foes hast borne thy banish'd gods, +Restor'd them to their hearths, and old abodes; +This is thy happy home, the clime where fate +Ordains thee to restore the Trojan state. +Fear not! The war shall end in lasting peace, +And all the rage of haughty Juno cease. +And that this nightly vision may not seem +Th' effect of fancy, or an idle dream, +A sow beneath an oak shall lie along, +All white herself, and white her thirty young. +When thirty rolling years have run their race, +Thy son Ascanius, on this empty space, +Shall build a royal town, of lasting fame, +Which from this omen shall receive the name. +Time shall approve the truth. For what remains, +And how with sure success to crown thy pains, +With patience next attend. A banish'd band, +Driv'n with Evander from th' Arcadian land, +Have planted here, and plac'd on high their walls; +Their town the founder Pallanteum calls, +Deriv'd from Pallas, his great-grandsire's name: +But the fierce Latians old possession claim, +With war infesting the new colony. +These make thy friends, and on their aid rely. +To thy free passage I submit my streams. +Wake, son of Venus, from thy pleasing dreams; +And, when the setting stars are lost in day, +To Juno's pow'r thy just devotion pay; +With sacrifice the wrathful queen appease: +Her pride at length shall fall, her fury cease. +When thou return'st victorious from the war, +Perform thy vows to me with grateful care. +The god am I, whose yellow water flows +Around these fields, and fattens as it goes: +Tiber my name; among the rolling floods +Renown'd on earth, esteem'd among the gods. +This is my certain seat. In times to come, +My waves shall wash the walls of mighty Rome." + +He said, and plung'd below. While yet he spoke, +His dream Aeneas and his sleep forsook. +He rose, and looking up, beheld the skies +With purple blushing, and the day arise. +Then water in his hollow palm he took +From Tiber's flood, and thus the pow'rs bespoke: +"Laurentian nymphs, by whom the streams are fed, +And Father Tiber, in thy sacred bed +Receive Aeneas, and from danger keep. +Whatever fount, whatever holy deep, +Conceals thy wat'ry stores; where'er they rise, +And, bubbling from below, salute the skies; +Thou, king of horned floods, whose plenteous urn +Suffices fatness to the fruitful corn, +For this thy kind compassion of our woes, +Shalt share my morning song and ev'ning vows. +But, O be present to thy people's aid, +And firm the gracious promise thou hast made!" +Thus having said, two galleys from his stores, +With care he chooses, mans, and fits with oars. +Now on the shore the fatal swine is found. +Wondrous to tell!- She lay along the ground: +Her well-fed offspring at her udders hung; +She white herself, and white her thirty young. +Aeneas takes the mother and her brood, +And all on Juno's altar are bestow'd. + +The foll'wing night, and the succeeding day, +Propitious Tiber smooth'd his wat'ry way: +He roll'd his river back, and pois'd he stood, +A gentle swelling, and a peaceful flood. +The Trojans mount their ships; they put from shore, +Borne on the waves, and scarcely dip an oar. +Shouts from the land give omen to their course, +And the pitch'd vessels glide with easy force. +The woods and waters wonder at the gleam +Of shields, and painted ships that stem the stream. +One summer's night and one whole day they pass +Betwixt the greenwood shades, and cut the liquid glass. +The fiery sun had finish'd half his race, +Look'd back, and doubted in the middle space, +When they from far beheld the rising tow'rs, +The tops of sheds, and shepherds' lowly bow'rs, +Thin as they stood, which, then of homely clay, +Now rise in marble, from the Roman sway. +These cots (Evander's kingdom, mean and poor) +The Trojan saw, and turn'd his ships to shore. +'T was on a solemn day: th' Arcadian states, +The king and prince, without the city gates, +Then paid their off'rings in a sacred grove +To Hercules, the warrior son of Jove. +Thick clouds of rolling smoke involve the skies, +And fat of entrails on his altar fries. + +But, when they saw the ships that stemm'd the flood, +And glitter'd thro' the covert of the wood, +They rose with fear, and left th' unfinish'd feast, +Till dauntless Pallas reassur'd the rest +To pay the rites. Himself without delay +A jav'lin seiz'd, and singly took his way; +Then gain'd a rising ground, and call'd from far: +"Resolve me, strangers, whence, and what you are; +Your bus'ness here; and bring you peace or war?" +High on the stern Aeneas his stand, +And held a branch of olive in his hand, +While thus he spoke: "The Phrygians' arms you see, +Expell'd from Troy, provok'd in Italy +By Latian foes, with war unjustly made; +At first affianc'd, and at last betray'd. +This message bear: 'The Trojans and their chief +Bring holy peace, and beg the king's relief.' +Struck with so great a name, and all on fire, +The youth replies: "Whatever you require, +Your fame exacts. Upon our shores descend. +A welcome guest, and, what you wish, a friend." +He said, and, downward hasting to the strand, +Embrac'd the stranger prince, and join'd his hand. + +Conducted to the grove, Aeneas broke +The silence first, and thus the king bespoke: +"Best of the Greeks, to whom, by fate's command, +I bear these peaceful branches in my hand, +Undaunted I approach you, tho' I know +Your birth is Grecian, and your land my foe; +From Atreus tho' your ancient lineage came, +And both the brother kings your kindred claim; +Yet, my self-conscious worth, your high renown, +Your virtue, thro' the neighb'ring nations blown, +Our fathers' mingled blood, Apollo's voice, +Have led me hither, less by need than choice. +Our founder Dardanus, as fame has sung, +And Greeks acknowledge, from Electra sprung: +Electra from the loins of Atlas came; +Atlas, whose head sustains the starry frame. +Your sire is Mercury, whom long before +On cold Cyllene's top fair Maia bore. +Maia the fair, on fame if we rely, +Was Atlas' daughter, who sustains the sky. +Thus from one common source our streams divide; +Ours is the Trojan, yours th' Areadian side. +Rais'd by these hopes, I sent no news before, +Nor ask'd your leave, nor did your faith implore; +But come, without a pledge, my own ambassador. +The same Rutulians, who with arms pursue +The Trojan race, are equal foes to you. +Our host expell'd, what farther force can stay +The victor troops from universal sway? +Then will they stretch their pow'r athwart the land, +And either sea from side to side command. +Receive our offer'd faith, and give us thine; +Ours is a gen'rous and experienc'd line: +We want not hearts nor bodies for the war; +In council cautious, and in fields we dare." + +He said; and while spoke, with piercing eyes +Evander view'd the man with vast surprise, +Pleas'd with his action, ravish'd with his face: +Then answer'd briefly, with a royal grace: +"O valiant leader of the Trojan line, +In whom the features of thy father shine, +How I recall Anchises! how I see +His motions, mien, and all my friend, in thee! +Long tho' it be, 't is fresh within my mind, +When Priam to his sister's court design'd +A welcome visit, with a friendly stay, +And thro' th' Arcadian kingdom took his way. +Then, past a boy, the callow down began +To shade my chin, and call me first a man. +I saw the shining train with vast delight, +And Priam's goodly person pleas'd my sight: +But great Anchises, far above the rest, +With awful wonder fir'd my youthful breast. +I long'd to join in friendship's holy bands +Our mutual hearts, and plight our mutual hands. +I first accosted him: I sued, I sought, +And, with a loving force, to Pheneus brought. +He gave me, when at length constrain'd to go, +A Lycian quiver and a Gnossian bow, +A vest embroider'd, glorious to behold, +And two rich bridles, with their bits of gold, +Which my son's coursers in obedience hold. +The league you ask, I offer, as your right; +And, when to-morrow's sun reveals the light, +With swift supplies you shall be sent away. +Now celebrate with us this solemn day, +Whose holy rites admit no long delay. +Honor our annual feast; and take your seat, +With friendly welcome, at a homely treat." +Thus having said, the bowls (remov'd for fear) +The youths replac'd, and soon restor'd the cheer. +On sods of turf he set the soldiers round: +A maple throne, rais'd higher from the ground, +Receiv'd the Trojan chief; and, o'er the bed, +A lion's shaggy hide for ornament they spread. +The loaves were serv'd in canisters; the wine +In bowls; the priest renew'd the rites divine: +Broil'd entrails are their food, and beef's continued chine. + +But when the rage of hunger was repress'd, +Thus spoke Evander to his royal guest: +"These rites, these altars, and this feast, O king, +From no vain fears or superstition spring, +Or blind devotion, or from blinder chance, +Or heady zeal, or brutal ignorance; +But, sav'd from danger, with a grateful sense, +The labors of a god we recompense. +See, from afar, yon rock that mates the sky, +About whose feet such heaps of rubbish lie; +Such indigested ruin; bleak and bare, +How desart now it stands, expos'd in air! +'T was once a robber's den, inclos'd around +With living stone, and deep beneath the ground. +The monster Cacus, more than half a beast, +This hold, impervious to the sun, possess'd. +The pavement ever foul with human gore; +Heads, and their mangled members, hung the door. +Vulcan this plague begot; and, like his sire, +Black clouds he belch'd, and flakes of livid fire. +Time, long expected, eas'd us of our load, +And brought the needful presence of a god. +Th' avenging force of Hercules, from Spain, +Arriv'd in triumph, from Geryon slain: +Thrice liv'd the giant, and thrice liv'd in vain. +His prize, the lowing herds, Alcides drove +Near Tiber's bank, to graze the shady grove. +Allur'd with hope of plunder, and intent +By force to rob, by fraud to circumvent, +The brutal Cacus, as by chance they stray'd, +Four oxen thence, and four fair kine convey'd; +And, lest the printed footsteps might be seen, +He dragg'd 'em backwards to his rocky den. +The tracks averse a lying notice gave, +And led the searcher backward from the cave. + +"Meantime the herdsman hero shifts his place, +To find fresh pasture and untrodden grass. +The beasts, who miss'd their mates, fill'd all around +With bellowings, and the rocks restor'd the sound. +One heifer, who had heard her love complain, +Roar'd from the cave, and made the project vain. +Alcides found the fraud; with rage he shook, +And toss'd about his head his knotted oak. +Swift as the winds, or Scythian arrows' flight, +He clomb, with eager haste, th' aerial height. +Then first we saw the monster mend his pace; +Fear his eyes, and paleness in his face, +Confess'd the god's approach. Trembling he springs, +As terror had increas'd his feet with wings; +Nor stay'd for stairs; but down the depth he threw +His body, on his back the door he drew +(The door, a rib of living rock; with pains +His father hew'd it out, and bound with iron chains): +He broke the heavy links, the mountain clos'd, +And bars and levers to his foe oppos'd. +The wretch had hardly made his dungeon fast; +The fierce avenger came with bounding haste; +Survey'd the mouth of the forbidden hold, +And here and there his raging eyes he roll'd. +He gnash'd his teeth; and thrice he compass'd round +With winged speed the circuit of the ground. +Thrice at the cavern's mouth he pull'd in vain, +And, panting, thrice desisted from his pain. +A pointed flinty rock, all bare and black, +Grew gibbous from behind the mountain's back; +Owls, ravens, all ill omens of the night, +Here built their nests, and hither wing'd their flight. +The leaning head hung threat'ning o'er the flood, +And nodded to the left. The hero stood +Adverse, with planted feet, and, from the right, +Tugg'd at the solid stone with all his might. +Thus heav'd, the fix'd foundations of the rock +Gave way; heav'n echo'd at the rattling shock. +Tumbling, it chok'd the flood: on either side +The banks leap backward, and the streams divide; +The sky shrunk upward with unusual dread, +And trembling Tiber div'd beneath his bed. +The court of Cacus stands reveal'd to sight; +The cavern glares with new-admitted light. +So the pent vapors, with a rumbling sound, +Heave from below, and rend the hollow ground; +A sounding flaw succeeds; and, from on high, +The gods with hate beheld the nether sky: +The ghosts repine at violated night, +And curse th' invading sun, and sicken at the sight. +The graceless monster, caught in open day, +Inclos'd, and in despair to fly away, +Howls horrible from underneath, and fills +His hollow palace with unmanly yells. +The hero stands above, and from afar +Plies him with darts, and stones, and distant war. +He, from his nostrils huge mouth, expires +Black clouds of smoke, amidst his father's fires, +Gath'ring, with each repeated blast, the night, +To make uncertain aim, and erring sight. +The wrathful god then plunges from above, +And, where in thickest waves the sparkles drove, +There lights; and wades thro' fumes, and gropes his way, +Half sing'd, half stifled, till he grasps his prey. +The monster, spewing fruitless flames, he found; +He squeez'd his throat; he writh'd his neck around, +And in a knot his crippled members bound; +Then from their sockets tore his burning eyes: +Roll'd on a heap, the breathless robber lies. +The doors, unbarr'd, receive the rushing day, +And thoro' lights disclose the ravish'd prey. +The bulls, redeem'd, breathe open air again. +Next, by the feet, they drag him from his den. +The wond'ring neighborhood, with glad surprise, +Behold his shagged breast, his giant size, +His mouth that flames no more, and his extinguish'd eyes. +From that auspicious day, with rites divine, +We worship at the hero's holy shrine. +Potitius first ordain'd these annual vows: +As priests, were added the Pinarian house, +Who rais'd this altar in the sacred shade, +Where honors, ever due, for ever shall be paid. +For these deserts, and this high virtue shown, +Ye warlike youths, your heads with garlands crown: +Fill high the goblets with a sparkling flood, +And with deep draughts invoke our common god." + +This said, a double wreath Evander twin'd, +And poplars black and white his temples bind. +Then brims his ample bowl. With like design +The rest invoke the gods, with sprinkled wine. +Meantime the sun descended from the skies, +And the bright evening star began to rise. +And now the priests, Potitius at their head, +In skins of beasts involv'd, the long procession led; +Held high the flaming tapers in their hands, +As custom had prescrib'd their holy bands; +Then with a second course the tables load, +And with full chargers offer to the god. +The Salii sing, and cense his altars round +With Saban smoke, their heads with poplar bound- +One choir of old, another of the young, +To dance, and bear the burthen of the song. +The lay records the labors, and the praise, +And all th' immortal acts of Hercules: +First, how the mighty babe, when swath'd in bands, +The serpents strangled with his infant hands; +Then, as in years and matchless force he grew, +Th' Oechalian walls, and Trojan, overthrew. +Besides, a thousand hazards they relate, +Procur'd by Juno's and Eurystheus' hate: +"Thy hands, unconquer'd hero, could subdue +The cloud-born Centaurs, and the monster crew: +Nor thy resistless arm the bull withstood, +Nor he, the roaring terror of the wood. +The triple porter of the Stygian seat, +With lolling tongue, lay fawning at thy feet, +And, seiz'd with fear, forgot his mangled meat. +Th' infernal waters trembled at thy sight; +Thee, god, no face of danger could affright; +Not huge Typhoeus, nor th' unnumber'd snake, +Increas'd with hissing heads, in Lerna's lake. +Hail, Jove's undoubted son! an added grace +To heav'n and the great author of thy race! +Receive the grateful off'rings which we pay, +And smile propitious on thy solemn day!" +In numbers thus they sung; above the rest, +The den and death of Cacus crown the feast. +The woods to hollow vales convey the sound, +The vales to hills, and hills the notes rebound. +The rites perform'd, the cheerful train retire. + +Betwixt young Pallas and his aged sire, +The Trojan pass'd, the city to survey, +And pleasing talk beguil'd the tedious way. +The stranger cast around his curious eyes, +New objects viewing still, with new surprise; +With greedy joy enquires of various things, +And acts and monuments of ancient kings. +Then thus the founder of the Roman tow'rs: +"These woods were first the seat of sylvan pow'rs, +Of Nymphs and Fauns, and salvage men, who took +Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak. +Nor laws they knew, nor manners, nor the care +Of lab'ring oxen, or the shining share, +Nor arts of gain, nor what they gain'd to spare. +Their exercise the chase; the running flood +Supplied their thirst, the trees supplied their food. +Then Saturn came, who fled the pow'r of Jove, +Robb'd of his realms, and banish'd from above. +The men, dispers'd on hills, to towns he brought, +And laws ordain'd, and civil customs taught, +And Latium call'd the land where safe he lay +From his unduteous son, and his usurping sway. +With his mild empire, peace and plenty came; +And hence the golden times deriv'd their name. +A more degenerate and discolor'd age +Succeeded this, with avarice and rage. +Th' Ausonians then, and bold Sicanians came; +And Saturn's empire often chang'd the name. +Then kings, gigantic Tybris, and the rest, +With arbitrary sway the land oppress'd: +For Tiber's flood was Albula before, +Till, from the tyrant's fate, his name it bore. +I last arriv'd, driv'n from my native home +By fortune's pow'r, and fate's resistless doom. +Long toss'd on seas, I sought this happy land, +Warn'd by my mother nymph, and call'd by Heav'n's command." + +Thus, walking on, he spoke, and shew'd the gate, +Since call'd Carmental by the Roman state; +Where stood an altar, sacred to the name +Of old Carmenta, the prophetic dame, +Who to her son foretold th' Aenean race, +Sublime in fame, and Rome's imperial place: +Then shews the forest, which, in after times, +Fierce Romulus for perpetrated crimes +A sacred refuge made; with this, the shrine +Where Pan below the rock had rites divine: +Then tells of Argus' death, his murder'd guest, +Whose grave and tomb his innocence attest. +Thence, to the steep Tarpeian rock he leads; +Now roof'd with gold, then thatch'd with homely reeds. +A reverent fear (such superstition reigns +Among the rude) ev'n then possess'd the swains. +Some god, they knew- what god, they could not tell- +Did there amidst the sacred horror dwell. +Th' Arcadians thought him Jove; and said they saw +The mighty Thund'rer with majestic awe, +Who took his shield, and dealt his bolts around, +And scatter'd tempests on the teeming ground. +Then saw two heaps of ruins, (once they stood +Two stately towns, on either side the flood,) +Saturnia's and Janicula's remains; +And either place the founder's name retains. +Discoursing thus together, they resort +Where poor Evander kept his country court. +They view'd the ground of Rome's litigious hall; +(Once oxen low'd, where now the lawyers bawl;) +Then, stooping, thro' the narrow gate they press'd, +When thus the king bespoke his Trojan guest: +"Mean as it is, this palace, and this door, +Receiv'd Alcides, then a conqueror. +Dare to be poor; accept our homely food, +Which feasted him, and emulate a god." +Then underneath a lowly roof he led +The weary prince, and laid him on a bed; +The stuffing leaves, with hides of bears o'erspread. +Now Night had shed her silver dews around, +And with her sable wings embrac'd the ground, +When love's fair goddess, anxious for her son, +(New tumults rising, and new wars begun,) +Couch'd with her husband in his golden bed, +With these alluring words invokes his aid; +And, that her pleasing speech his mind may move, +Inspires each accent with the charms of love: +"While cruel fate conspir'd with Grecian pow'rs, +To level with the ground the Trojan tow'rs, +I ask'd not aid th' unhappy to restore, +Nor did the succor of thy skill implore; +Nor urg'd the labors of my lord in vain, +A sinking empire longer to sustain, +Tho'much I ow'd to Priam's house, and more +The dangers of Aeneas did deplore. +But now, by Jove's command, and fate's decree, +His race is doom'd to reign in Italy: +With humble suit I beg thy needful art, +O still propitious pow'r, that rules my heart! +A mother kneels a suppliant for her son. +By Thetis and Aurora thou wert won +To forge impenetrable shields, and grace +With fated arms a less illustrious race. +Behold, what haughty nations are combin'd +Against the relics of the Phrygian kind, +With fire and sword my people to destroy, +And conquer Venus twice, in conqu'ring Troy." +She said; and straight her arms, of snowy hue, +About her unresolving husband threw. +Her soft embraces soon infuse desire; +His bones and marrow sudden warmth inspire; +And all the godhead feels the wonted fire. +Not half so swift the rattling thunder flies, +Or forky lightnings flash along the skies. +The goddess, proud of her successful wiles, +And conscious of her form, in secret smiles. + +Then thus the pow'r, obnoxious to her charms, +Panting, and half dissolving in her arms: +"Why seek you reasons for a cause so just, +Or your own beauties or my love distrust? +Long since, had you requir'd my helpful hand, +Th' artificer and art you might command, +To labor arms for Troy: nor Jove, nor fate, +Confin'd their empire to so short a date. +And, if you now desire new wars to wage, +My skill I promise, and my pains engage. +Whatever melting metals can conspire, +Or breathing bellows, or the forming fire, +Is freely yours: your anxious fears remove, +And think no task is difficult to love." +Trembling he spoke; and, eager of her charms, +He snatch'd the willing goddess to his arms; +Till in her lap infus'd, he lay possess'd +Of full desire, and sunk to pleasing rest. +Now when the Night her middle race had rode, +And his first slumber had refresh'd the god- +The time when early housewives leave the bed; +When living embers on the hearth they spread, +Supply the lamp, and call the maids to rise- +With yawning mouths, and with half-open'd eyes, +They ply the distaff by the winking light, +And to their daily labor add the night: +Thus frugally they earn their children's bread, +And uncorrupted keep the nuptial bed- +Not less concern'd, nor at a later hour, +Rose from his downy couch the forging pow'r. + +Sacred to Vulcan's name, an isle there lay, +Betwixt Sicilia's coasts and Lipare, +Rais'd high on smoking rocks; and, deep below, +In hollow caves the fires of Aetna glow. +The Cyclops here their heavy hammers deal; +Loud strokes, and hissings of tormented steel, +Are heard around; the boiling waters roar, +And smoky flames thro' fuming tunnels soar. +Hether the Father of the Fire, by night, +Thro' the brown air precipitates his flight. +On their eternal anvils here he found +The brethren beating, and the blows go round. +A load of pointless thunder now there lies +Before their hands, to ripen for the skies: +These darts, for angry Jove, they daily cast; +Consum'd on mortals with prodigious waste. +Three rays of writhen rain, of fire three more, +Of winged southern winds and cloudy store +As many parts, the dreadful mixture frame; +And fears are added, and avenging flame. +Inferior ministers, for Mars, repair +His broken axletrees and blunted war, +And send him forth again with furbish'd arms, +To wake the lazy war with trumpets' loud alarms. +The rest refresh the scaly snakes that fold +The shield of Pallas, and renew their gold. +Full on the crest the Gorgon's head they place, +With eyes that roll in death, and with distorted face. + +"My sons," said Vulcan, "set your tasks aside; +Your strength and master-skill must now be tried. +Arms for a hero forge; arms that require +Your force, your speed, and all your forming fire." +He said. They set their former work aside, +And their new toils with eager haste divide. +A flood of molten silver, brass, and gold, +And deadly steel, in the large furnace roll'd; +Of this, their artful hands a shield prepare, +Alone sufficient to sustain the war. +Sev'n orbs within a spacious round they close: +One stirs the fire, and one the bellows blows. +The hissing steel is in the smithy drown'd; +The grot with beaten anvils groans around. +By turns their arms advance, in equal time; +By turns their hands descend, and hammers chime. +They turn the glowing mass with crooked tongs; +The fiery work proceeds, with rustic songs. + +While, at the Lemnian god's command, they urge +Their labors thus, and ply th' Aeolian forge, +The cheerful morn salutes Evander's eyes, +And songs of chirping birds invite to rise. +He leaves his lowly bed: his buskins meet +Above his ankles; sandals sheathe his feet: +He sets his trusty sword upon his side, +And o'er his shoulder throws a panther's hide. +Two menial dogs before their master press'd. +Thus clad, and guarded thus, he seeks his kingly guest. +Mindful of promis'd aid, he mends his pace, +But meets Aeneas in the middle space. +Young Pallas did his father's steps attend, +And true Achates waited on his friend. +They join their hands; a secret seat they choose; +Th' Arcadian first their former talk renews: +"Undaunted prince, I never can believe +The Trojan empire lost, while you survive. +Command th' assistance of a faithful friend; +But feeble are the succors I can send. +Our narrow kingdom here the Tiber bounds; +That other side the Latian state surrounds, +Insults our walls, and wastes our fruitful grounds. +But mighty nations I prepare, to join +Their arms with yours, and aid your just design. +You come, as by your better genius sent, +And fortune seems to favor your intent. +Not far from hence there stands a hilly town, +Of ancient building, and of high renown, +Torn from the Tuscans by the Lydian race, +Who gave the name of Caere to the place, +Once Agyllina call'd. It flourish'd long, +In pride of wealth and warlike people strong, +Till curs'd Mezentius, in a fatal hour, +Assum'd the crown, with arbitrary pow'r. +What words can paint those execrable times, +The subjects' suff'rings, and the tyrant's crimes! +That blood, those murthers, O ye gods, replace +On his own head, and on his impious race! +The living and the dead at his command +Were coupled, face to face, and hand to hand, +Till, chok'd with stench, in loath'd embraces tied, +The ling'ring wretches pin'd away and died. +Thus plung'd in ills, and meditating more- +The people's patience, tir'd, no longer bore +The raging monster; but with arms beset +His house, and vengeance and destruction threat. +They fire his palace: while the flame ascends, +They force his guards, and execute his friends. +He cleaves the crowd, and, favor'd by the night, +To Turnus' friendly court directs his flight. +By just revenge the Tuscans set on fire, +With arms, their king to punishment require: +Their num'rous troops, now muster'd on the strand, +My counsel shall submit to your command. +Their navy swarms upon the coasts; they cry +To hoist their anchors, but the gods deny. +An ancient augur, skill'd in future fate, +With these foreboding words restrains their hate: +'Ye brave in arms, ye Lydian blood, the flow'r +Of Tuscan youth, and choice of all their pow'r, +Whom just revenge against Mezentius arms, +To seek your tyrant's death by lawful arms; +Know this: no native of our land may lead +This pow'rful people; seek a foreign head.' +Aw'd with these words, in camps they still abide, +And wait with longing looks their promis'd guide. +Tarchon, the Tuscan chief, to me has sent +Their crown, and ev'ry regal ornament: +The people join their own with his desire; +And all my conduct, as their king, require. +But the chill blood that creeps within my veins, +And age, and listless limbs unfit for pains, +And a soul conscious of its own decay, +Have forc'd me to refuse imperial sway. +My Pallas were more fit to mount the throne, +And should, but he's a Sabine mother's son, +And half a native; but, in you, combine +A manly vigor, and a foreign line. +Where Fate and smiling Fortune shew the way, +Pursue the ready path to sov'reign sway. +The staff of my declining days, my son, +Shall make your good or ill success his own; +In fighting fields from you shall learn to dare, +And serve the hard apprenticeship of war; +Your matchless courage and your conduct view, +And early shall begin t' admire and copy you. +Besides, two hundred horse he shall command; +Tho' few, a warlike and well-chosen band. +These in my name are listed; and my son +As many more has added in his own." + +Scarce had he said; Achates and his guest, +With downcast eyes, their silent grief express'd; +Who, short of succors, and in deep despair, +Shook at the dismal prospect of the war. +But his bright mother, from a breaking cloud, +To cheer her issue, thunder'd thrice aloud; +Thrice forky lightning flash'd along the sky, +And Tyrrhene trumpets thrice were heard on high. +Then, gazing up, repeated peals they hear; +And, in a heav'n serene, refulgent arms appear: +Redd'ning the skies, and glitt'ring all around, +The temper'd metals clash, and yield a silver sound. +The rest stood trembling, struck with awe divine; +Aeneas only, conscious to the sign, +Presag'd th' event, and joyful view'd, above, +Th' accomplish'd promise of the Queen of Love. +Then, to th' Arcadian king: "This prodigy +(Dismiss your fear) belongs alone to me. +Heav'n calls me to the war: th' expected sign +Is giv'n of promis'd aid, and arms divine. +My goddess mother, whose indulgent care +Foresaw the dangers of the growing war, +This omen gave, when bright Vulcanian arms, +Fated from force of steel by Stygian charms, +Suspended, shone on high: she then foreshow'd +Approaching fights, and fields to float in blood. +Turnus shall dearly pay for faith forsworn; +And corps, and swords, and shields, on Tiber borne, +Shall choke his flood: now sound the loud alarms; +And, Latian troops, prepare your perjur'd arms." + +He said, and, rising from his homely throne, +The solemn rites of Hercules begun, +And on his altars wak'd the sleeping fires; +Then cheerful to his household gods retires; +There offers chosen sheep. Th' Arcadian king +And Trojan youth the same oblations bring. +Next, of his men and ships he makes review; +Draws out the best and ablest of the crew. +Down with the falling stream the refuse run, +To raise with joyful news his drooping son. +Steeds are prepar'd to mount the Trojan band, +Who wait their leader to the Tyrrhene land. +A sprightly courser, fairer than the rest, +The king himself presents his royal guest: +A lion's hide his back and limbs infold, +Precious with studded work, and paws of gold. +Fame thro' the little city spreads aloud +Th' intended march, amid the fearful crowd: +The matrons beat their breasts, dissolve in tears, +And double their devotion in their fears. +The war at hand appears with more affright, +And rises ev'ry moment to the sight. + +Then old Evander, with a close embrace, +Strain'd his departing friend; and tears o'erflow his face. +"Would Heav'n," said he, "my strength and youth recall, +Such as I was beneath Praeneste's wall; +Then when I made the foremost foes retire, +And set whole heaps of conquer'd shields on fire; +When Herilus in single fight I slew, +Whom with three lives Feronia did endue; +And thrice I sent him to the Stygian shore, +Till the last ebbing soul return'd no more- +Such if I stood renew'd, not these alarms, +Nor death, should rend me from my Pallas' arms; +Nor proud Mezentius, thus unpunish'd, boast +His rapes and murthers on the Tuscan coast. +Ye gods, and mighty Jove, in pity bring +Relief, and hear a father and a king! +If fate and you reserve these eyes, to see +My son return with peace and victory; +If the lov'd boy shall bless his father's sight; +If we shall meet again with more delight; +Then draw my life in length; let me sustain, +In hopes of his embrace, the worst of pain. +But if your hard decrees- which, O! I dread- +Have doom'd to death his undeserving head; +This, O this very moment, let me die! +While hopes and fears in equal balance lie; +While, yet possess'd of all his youthful charms, +I strain him close within these aged arms; +Before that fatal news my soul shall wound!" +He said, and, swooning, sunk upon the ground. +His servants bore him off, and softly laid +His languish'd limbs upon his homely bed. + +The horsemen march; the gates are open'd wide; +Aeneas at their head, Achates by his side. +Next these, the Trojan leaders rode along; +Last follows in the rear th' Arcadian throng. +Young Pallas shone conspicuous o'er the rest; +Gilded his arms, embroider'd was his vest. +So, from the seas, exerts his radiant head +The star by whom the lights of heav'n are led; +Shakes from his rosy locks the pearly dews, +Dispels the darkness, and the day renews. +The trembling wives the walls and turrets crowd, +And follow, with their eyes, the dusty cloud, +Which winds disperse by fits, and shew from far +The blaze of arms, and shields, and shining war. +The troops, drawn up in beautiful array, +O'er heathy plains pursue the ready way. +Repeated peals of shouts are heard around; +The neighing coursers answer to the sound, +And shake with horny hoofs the solid ground. + +A greenwood shade, for long religion known, +Stands by the streams that wash the Tuscan town, +Incompass'd round with gloomy hills above, +Which add a holy horror to the grove. +The first inhabitants of Grecian blood, +That sacred forest to Silvanus vow'd, +The guardian of their flocks and fields; and pay +Their due devotions on his annual day. +Not far from hence, along the river's side, +In tents secure, the Tuscan troops abide, +By Tarchon led. Now, from a rising ground, +Aeneas cast his wond'ring eyes around, +And all the Tyrrhene army had in sight, +Stretch'd on the spacious plain from left to right. +Thether his warlike train the Trojan led, +Refresh'd his men, and wearied horses fed. + +Meantime the mother goddess, crown'd with charms, +Breaks thro' the clouds, and brings the fated arms. +Within a winding vale she finds her son, +On the cool river's banks, retir'd alone. +She shews her heav'nly form without disguise, +And gives herself to his desiring eyes. +"Behold," she said, "perform'd in ev'ry part, +My promise made, and Vulcan's labor'd art. +Now seek, secure, the Latian enemy, +And haughty Turnus to the field defy." +She said; and, having first her son embrac'd, +The radiant arms beneath an oak she plac'd, +Proud of the gift, he roll'd his greedy sight +Around the work, and gaz'd with vast delight. +He lifts, he turns, he poises, and admires +The crested helm, that vomits radiant fires: +His hands the fatal sword and corslet hold, +One keen with temper'd steel, one stiff with gold: +Both ample, flaming both, and beamy bright; +So shines a cloud, when edg'd with adverse light. +He shakes the pointed spear, and longs to try +The plated cuishes on his manly thigh; +But most admires the shield's mysterious mold, +And Roman triumphs rising on the gold: +For these, emboss'd, the heav'nly smith had wrought +(Not in the rolls of future fate untaught) +The wars in order, and the race divine +Of warriors issuing from the Julian line. +The cave of Mars was dress'd with mossy greens: +There, by the wolf, were laid the martial twins. +Intrepid on her swelling dugs they hung; +The foster dam loll'd out her fawning tongue: +They suck'd secure, while, bending back her head, +She lick'd their tender limbs, and form'd them as they fed. +Not far from thence new Rome appears, with games +Projected for the rape of Sabine dames. +The pit resounds with shrieks; a war succeeds, +For breach of public faith, and unexampled deeds. +Here for revenge the Sabine troops contend; +The Romans there with arms the prey defend. +Wearied with tedious war, at length they cease; +And both the kings and kingdoms plight the peace. +The friendly chiefs before Jove's altar stand, +Both arm'd, with each a charger in his hand: +A fatted sow for sacrifice is led, +With imprecations on the perjur'd head. +Near this, the traitor Metius, stretch'd between +Four fiery steeds, is dragg'd along the green, +By Tullus' doom: the brambles drink his blood, +And his torn limbs are left the vulture's food. +There, Porsena to Rome proud Tarquin brings, +And would by force restore the banish'd kings. +One tyrant for his fellow-tyrant fights; +The Roman youth assert their native rights. +Before the town the Tuscan army lies, +To win by famine, or by fraud surprise. +Their king, half-threat'ning, half-disdaining stood, +While Cocles broke the bridge, and stemm'd the flood. +The captive maids there tempt the raging tide, +Scap'd from their chains, with Cloelia for their guide. +High on a rock heroic Manlius stood, +To guard the temple, and the temple's god. +Then Rome was poor; and there you might behold +The palace thatch'd with straw, now roof'd with gold. +The silver goose before the shining gate +There flew, and, by her cackle, sav'd the state. +She told the Gauls' approach; th' approaching Gauls, +Obscure in night, ascend, and seize the walls. +The gold dissembled well their yellow hair, +And golden chains on their white necks they wear. +Gold are their vests; long Alpine spears they wield, +And their left arm sustains a length of shield. +Hard by, the leaping Salian priests advance; +And naked thro' the streets the mad Luperci dance, +In caps of wool; the targets dropp'd from heav'n. +Here modest matrons, in soft litters driv'n, +To pay their vows in solemn pomp appear, +And odorous gums in their chaste hands they bear. +Far hence remov'd, the Stygian seats are seen; +Pains of the damn'd, and punish'd Catiline +Hung on a rock- the traitor; and, around, +The Furies hissing from the nether ground. +Apart from these, the happy souls he draws, +And Cato's holy ghost dispensing laws. + +Betwixt the quarters flows a golden sea; +But foaming surges there in silver play. +The dancing dolphins with their tails divide +The glitt'ring waves, and cut the precious tide. +Amid the main, two mighty fleets engage +Their brazen beaks, oppos'd with equal rage. +Actium surveys the well-disputed prize; +Leucate's wat'ry plain with foamy billows fries. +Young Caesar, on the stern, in armor bright, +Here leads the Romans and their gods to fight: +His beamy temples shoot their flames afar, +And o'er his head is hung the Julian star. +Agrippa seconds him, with prosp'rous gales, +And, with propitious gods, his foes assails: +A naval crown, that binds his manly brows, +The happy fortune of the fight foreshows. +Rang'd on the line oppos'd, Antonius brings +Barbarian aids, and troops of Eastern kings; +Th' Arabians near, and Bactrians from afar, +Of tongues discordant, and a mingled war: +And, rich in gaudy robes, amidst the strife, +His ill fate follows him- th' Egyptian wife. +Moving they fight; with oars and forky prows +The froth is gather'd, and the water glows. +It seems, as if the Cyclades again +Were rooted up, and justled in the main; +Or floating mountains floating mountains meet; +Such is the fierce encounter of the fleet. +Fireballs are thrown, and pointed jav'lins fly; +The fields of Neptune take a purple dye. +The queen herself, amidst the loud alarms, +With cymbals toss'd her fainting soldiers warms- +Fool as she was! who had not yet divin'd +Her cruel fate, nor saw the snakes behind. +Her country gods, the monsters of the sky, +Great Neptune, Pallas, and Love's Queen defy: +The dog Anubis barks, but barks in vain, +Nor longer dares oppose th' ethereal train. +Mars in the middle of the shining shield +Is grav'd, and strides along the liquid field. +The Dirae souse from heav'n with swift descent; +And Discord, dyed in blood, with garments rent, +Divides the prease: her steps Bellona treads, +And shakes her iron rod above their heads. +This seen, Apollo, from his Actian height, +Pours down his arrows; at whose winged flight +The trembling Indians and Egyptians yield, +And soft Sabaeans quit the wat'ry field. +The fatal mistress hoists her silken sails, +And, shrinking from the fight, invokes the gales. +Aghast she looks, and heaves her breast for breath, +Panting, and pale with fear of future death. +The god had figur'd her as driv'n along +By winds and waves, and scudding thro' the throng. +Just opposite, sad Nilus opens wide +His arms and ample bosom to the tide, +And spreads his mantle o'er the winding coast, +In which he wraps his queen, and hides the flying host. +The victor to the gods his thanks express'd, +And Rome, triumphant, with his presence bless'd. +Three hundred temples in the town he plac'd; +With spoils and altars ev'ry temple grac'd. +Three shining nights, and three succeeding days, +The fields resound with shouts, the streets with praise, +The domes with songs, the theaters with plays. +All altars flame: before each altar lies, +Drench'd in his gore, the destin'd sacrifice. +Great Caesar sits sublime upon his throne, +Before Apollo's porch of Parian stone; +Accepts the presents vow'd for victory, +And hangs the monumental crowns on high. +Vast crowds of vanquish'd nations march along, +Various in arms, in habit, and in tongue. +Here, Mulciber assigns the proper place +For Carians, and th' ungirt Numidian race; +Then ranks the Thracians in the second row, +With Scythians, expert in the dart and bow. +And here the tam'd Euphrates humbly glides, +And there the Rhine submits her swelling tides, +And proud Araxes, whom no bridge could bind; +The Danes' unconquer'd offspring march behind, +And Morini, the last of humankind. + +These figures, on the shield divinely wrought, +By Vulcan labor'd, and by Venus brought, +With joy and wonder fill the hero's thought. +Unknown the names, he yet admires the grace, +And bears aloft the fame and fortune of his race. +BOOK IX + +While these affairs in distant places pass'd, +The various Iris Juno sends with haste, +To find bold Turnus, who, with anxious thought, +The secret shade of his great grandsire sought. +Retir'd alone she found the daring man, +And op'd her rosy lips, and thus began: +"What none of all the gods could grant thy vows, +That, Turnus, this auspicious day bestows. +Aeneas, gone to seek th' Arcadian prince, +Has left the Trojan camp without defense; +And, short of succors there, employs his pains +In parts remote to raise the Tuscan swains. +Now snatch an hour that favors thy designs; +Unite thy forces, and attack their lines." +This said, on equal wings she pois'd her weight, +And form'd a radiant rainbow in her flight. + +The Daunian hero lifts his hands eyes, +And thus invokes the goddess as she flies: +"Iris, the grace of heav'n, what pow'r divine +Has sent thee down, thro' dusky clouds to shine? +See, they divide; immortal day appears, +And glitt'ring planets dancing in their spheres! +With joy, these happy omens I obey, +And follow to the war the god that leads the way." +Thus having said, as by the brook he stood, +He scoop'd the water from the crystal flood; +Then with his hands the drops to heav'n he throws, +And loads the pow'rs above with offer'd vows. + +Now march the bold confed'rates thro' the plain, +Well hors'd, well clad; a rich and shining train. +Messapus leads the van; and, in the rear, +The sons of Tyrrheus in bright arms appear. +In the main battle, with his flaming crest, +The mighty Turnus tow'rs above the rest. +Silent they move, majestically slow, +Like ebbing Nile, or Ganges in his flow. +The Trojans view the dusty cloud from far, +And the dark menace of the distant war. +Caicus from the rampire saw it rise, +Black'ning the fields, and thick'ning thro' the skies. +Then to his fellows thus aloud he calls: +"What rolling clouds, my friends, approach the walls? +Arm! arm! and man the works! prepare your spears +And pointed darts! the Latian host appears." + +Thus warn'd, they shut their gates; with shouts ascend +The bulwarks, and, secure, their foes attend: +For their wise gen'ral, with foreseeing care, +Had charg'd them not to tempt the doubtful war, +Nor, tho' provok'd, in open fields advance, +But close within their lines attend their chance. +Unwilling, yet they keep the strict command, +And sourly wait in arms the hostile band. +The fiery Turnus flew before the rest: +A piebald steed of Thracian strain he press'd; +His helm of massy gold, and crimson was his crest. +With twenty horse to second his designs, +An unexpected foe, he fac'd the lines. +"Is there," he said, "in arms, who bravely dare +His leader's honor and his danger share?" +Then spurring on, his brandish'd dart he threw, +In sign of war: applauding shouts ensue. + +Amaz'd to find a dastard race, that run +Behind the rampires and the battle shun, +He rides around the camp, with rolling eyes, +And stops at ev'ry post, and ev'ry passage tries. +So roams the nightly wolf about the fold: +Wet with descending show'rs, and stiff with cold, +He howls for hunger, and he grins for pain, +(His gnashing teeth are exercis'd in vain,) +And, impotent of anger, finds no way +In his distended paws to grasp the prey. +The mothers listen; but the bleating lambs +Securely swig the dug, beneath the dams. +Thus ranges eager Turnus o'er the plain. +Sharp with desire, and furious with disdain; +Surveys each passage with a piercing sight, +To force his foes in equal field to fight. +Thus while he gazes round, at length he spies, +Where, fenc'd with strong redoubts, their navy lies, +Close underneath the walls; the washing tide +Secures from all approach this weaker side. +He takes the wish'd occasion, fills his hand +With ready fires, and shakes a flaming brand. +Urg'd by his presence, ev'ry soul is warm'd, +And ev'ry hand with kindled firs is arm'd. +From the fir'd pines the scatt'ring sparkles fly; +Fat vapors, mix'd with flames, involve the sky. +What pow'r, O Muses, could avert the flame +Which threaten'd, in the fleet, the Trojan name? +Tell: for the fact, thro' length of time obscure, +Is hard to faith; yet shall the fame endure. + +'T is said that, when the chief prepar'd his flight, +And fell'd his timber from Mount Ida's height, +The grandam goddess then approach'd her son, +And with a mother's majesty begun: +"Grant me," she said, "the sole request I bring, +Since conquer'd heav'n has own'd you for its king. +On Ida's brows, for ages past, there stood, +With firs and maples fill'd, a shady wood; +And on the summit rose a sacred grove, +Where I was worship'd with religious love. +Those woods, that holy grove, my long delight, +I gave the Trojan prince, to speed his flight. +Now, fill'd with fear, on their behalf I come; +Let neither winds o'erset, nor waves intomb +The floating forests of the sacred pine; +But let it be their safety to be mine." +Then thus replied her awful son, who rolls +The radiant stars, and heav'n and earth controls: +"How dare you, mother, endless date demand +For vessels molded by a mortal hand? +What then is fate? Shall bold Aeneas ride, +Of safety certain, on th' uncertain tide? +Yet, what I can, I grant; when, wafted o'er, +The chief is landed on the Latian shore, +Whatever ships escape the raging storms, +At my command shall change their fading forms +To nymphs divine, and plow the wat'ry way, +Like Dotis and the daughters of the sea." +To seal his sacred vow, by Styx he swore, +The lake of liquid pitch, the dreary shore, +And Phlegethon's innavigable flood, +And the black regions of his brother god. +He said; and shook the skies with his imperial nod. + +And now at length the number'd hours were come, +Prefix'd by fate's irrevocable doom, +When the great Mother of the Gods was free +To save her ships, and finish Jove's decree. +First, from the quarter of the morn, there sprung +A light that sign'd the heav'ns, and shot along; +Then from a cloud, fring'd round with golden fires, +Were timbrels heard, and Berecynthian choirs; +And, last, a voice, with more than mortal sounds, +Both hosts, in arms oppos'd, with equal horror wounds: +"O Trojan race, your needless aid forbear, +And know, my ships are my peculiar care. +With greater ease the bold Rutulian may, +With hissing brands, attempt to burn the sea, +Than singe my sacred pines. But you, my charge, +Loos'd from your crooked anchors, launch at large, +Exalted each a nymph: forsake the sand, +And swim the seas, at Cybele's command." +No sooner had the goddess ceas'd to speak, +When, lo! th' obedient ships their haulsers break; +And, strange to tell, like dolphins, in the main +They plunge their prows, and dive, and spring again: +As many beauteous maids the billows sweep, +As rode before tall vessels on the deep. + +The foes, surpris'd with wonder, stood aghast; +Messapus curb'd his fiery courser's haste; +Old Tiber roar'd, and, raising up his head, +Call'd back his waters to their oozy bed. +Turnus alone, undaunted, bore the shock, +And with these words his trembling troops bespoke: +"These monsters for the Trojans' fate are meant, +And are by Jove for black presages sent. +He takes the cowards' last relief away; +For fly they cannot, and, constrain'd to stay, +Must yield unfought, a base inglorious prey. +The liquid half of all the globe is lost; +Heav'n shuts the seas, and we secure the coast. +Theirs is no more than that small spot of ground +Which myriads of our martial men surround. +Their fates I fear not, or vain oracles. +'T was giv'n to Venus they should cross the seas, +And land secure upon the Latian plains: +Their promis'd hour is pass'd, and mine remains. +'T is in the fate of Turnus to destroy, +With sword and fire, the faithless race of Troy. +Shall such affronts as these alone inflame +The Grecian brothers, and the Grecian name? +My cause and theirs is one; a fatal strife, +And final ruin, for a ravish'd wife. +Was 't not enough, that, punish'd for the crime, +They fell; but will they fall a second time? +One would have thought they paid enough before, +To curse the costly sex, and durst offend no more. +Can they securely trust their feeble wall, +A slight partition, a thin interval, +Betwixt their fate and them; when Troy, tho' built +By hands divine, yet perish'd by their guilt? +Lend me, for once, my friends, your valiant hands, +To force from out their lines these dastard bands. +Less than a thousand ships will end this war, +Nor Vulcan needs his fated arms prepare. +Let all the Tuscans, all th' Arcadians, join! +Nor these, nor those, shall frustrate my design. +Let them not fear the treasons of the night, +The robb'd Palladium, the pretended flight: +Our onset shall be made in open light. +No wooden engine shall their town betray; +Fires they shall have around, but fires by day. +No Grecian babes before their camp appear, +Whom Hector's arms detain'd to the tenth tardy year. +Now, since the sun is rolling to the west, +Give we the silent night to needful rest: +Refresh your bodies, and your arms prepare; +The morn shall end the small remains of war." + +The post of honor to Messapus falls, +To keep the nightly guard, to watch the walls, +To pitch the fires at distances around, +And close the Trojans in their scanty ground. +Twice seven Rutulian captains ready stand, +And twice seven hundred horse these chiefs command; +All clad in shining arms the works invest, +Each with a radiant helm and waving crest. +Stretch'd at their length, they press the grassy ground; +They laugh, they sing, (the jolly bowls go round,) +With lights and cheerful fires renew the day, +And pass the wakeful night in feasts and play. + +The Trojans, from above, their foes beheld, +And with arm'd legions all the rampires fill'd. +Seiz'd with affright, their gates they first explore; +Join works to works with bridges, tow'r to tow'r: +Thus all things needful for defense abound. +Mnestheus and brave Seresthus walk the round, +Commission'd by their absent prince to share +The common danger, and divide the care. +The soldiers draw their lots, and, as they fall, +By turns relieve each other on the wall. + +Nigh where the foes their utmost guards advance, +To watch the gate was warlike Nisus' chance. +His father Hyrtacus of noble blood; +His mother was a huntress of the wood, +And sent him to the wars. Well could he bear +His lance in fight, and dart the flying spear, +But better skill'd unerring shafts to send. +Beside him stood Euryalus, his friend: +Euryalus, than whom the Trojan host +No fairer face, or sweeter air, could boast- +Scarce had the down to shade his cheeks begun. +One was their care, and their delight was one: +One common hazard in the war they shar'd, +And now were both by choice upon the guard. + +Then Nisus thus: "Or do the gods inspire +This warmth, or make we gods of our desire? +A gen'rous ardor boils within my breast, +Eager of action, enemy to rest: +This urges me to fight, and fires my mind +To leave a memorable name behind. +Thou see'st the foe secure; how faintly shine +Their scatter'd fires! the most, in sleep supine +Along the ground, an easy conquest lie: +The wakeful few the fuming flagon ply; +All hush'd around. Now hear what I revolve- +A thought unripe- and scarcely yet resolve. +Our absent prince both camp and council mourn; +By message both would hasten his return: +If they confer what I demand on thee, +(For fame is recompense enough for me,) +Methinks, beneath yon hill, I have espied +A way that safely will my passage guide." + +Euryalus stood list'ning while he spoke, +With love of praise and noble envy struck; +Then to his ardent friend expos'd his mind: +"All this, alone, and leaving me behind! +Am I unworthy, Nisus, to be join'd? +Thinkist thou I can my share of glory yield, +Or send thee unassisted to the field? +Not so my father taught my childhood arms; +Born in a siege, and bred among alarms! +Nor is my youth unworthy of my friend, +Nor of the heav'n-born hero I attend. +The thing call'd life, with ease I can disclaim, +And think it over-sold to purchase fame." + +Then Nisus thus: "Alas! thy tender years +Would minister new matter to my fears. +So may the gods, who view this friendly strife, +Restore me to thy lov'd embrace with life, +Condemn'd to pay my vows, (as sure I trust,) +This thy request is cruel and unjust. +But if some chance- as many chances are, +And doubtful hazards, in the deeds of war- +If one should reach my head, there let it fall, +And spare thy life; I would not perish all. +Thy bloomy youth deserves a longer date: +Live thou to mourn thy love's unhappy fate; +To bear my mangled body from the foe, +Or buy it back, and fun'ral rites bestow. +Or, if hard fortune shall those dues deny, +Thou canst at least an empty tomb supply. +O let not me the widow's tears renew! +Nor let a mother's curse my name pursue: +Thy pious parent, who, for love of thee, +Forsook the coasts of friendly Sicily, +Her age committing to the seas and wind, +When ev'ry weary matron stay'd behind." +To this, Euryalus: "You plead in vain, +And but protract the cause you cannot gain. +No more delays, but haste!" With that, he wakes +The nodding watch; each to his office takes. +The guard reliev'd, the gen'rous couple went +To find the council at the royal tent. + +All creatures else forgot their daily care, +And sleep, the common gift of nature, share; +Except the Trojan peers, who wakeful sate +In nightly council for th' indanger'd state. +They vote a message to their absent chief, +Shew their distress, and beg a swift relief. +Amid the camp a silent seat they chose, +Remote from clamor, and secure from foes. +On their left arms their ample shields they bear, +The right reclin'd upon the bending spear. +Now Nisus and his friend approach the guard, +And beg admission, eager to be heard: +Th' affair important, not to be deferr'd. +Ascanius bids 'em be conducted in, +Ord'ring the more experienc'd to begin. +Then Nisus thus: "Ye fathers, lend your ears; +Nor judge our bold attempt beyond our years. +The foe, securely drench'd in sleep and wine, +Neglect their watch; the fires but thinly shine; +And where the smoke in cloudy vapors flies, +Cov'ring the plain, and curling to the skies, +Betwixt two paths, which at the gate divide, +Close by the sea, a passage we have spied, +Which will our way to great Aeneas guide. +Expect each hour to see him safe again, +Loaded with spoils of foes in battle slain. +Snatch we the lucky minute while we may; +Nor can we be mistaken in the way; +For, hunting in the vale, we both have seen +The rising turrets, and the stream between, +And know the winding course, with ev'ry ford." + +He ceas'd; and old Alethes took the word: +"Our country gods, in whom our trust we place, +Will yet from ruin save the Trojan race, +While we behold such dauntless worth appear +In dawning youth, and souls so void of fear." +Then into tears of joy the father broke; +Each in his longing arms by turns he took; +Panted and paus'd; and thus again he spoke: +"Ye brave young men, what equal gifts can we, +In recompense of such desert, decree? +The greatest, sure, and best you can receive, +The gods and your own conscious worth will give. +The rest our grateful gen'ral will bestow, +And young Ascanius till his manhood owe." + +"And I, whose welfare in my father lies," +Ascanius adds, "by the great deities, +By my dear country, by my household gods, +By hoary Vesta's rites and dark abodes, +Adjure you both, (on you my fortune stands; +That and my faith I plight into your hands,) +Make me but happy in his safe return, +Whose wanted presence I can only mourn; +Your common gift shall two large goblets be +Of silver, wrought with curious imagery, +And high emboss'd, which, when old Priam reign'd, +My conqu'ring sire at sack'd Arisba gain'd; +And more, two tripods cast in antic mold, +With two great talents of the finest gold; +Beside a costly bowl, ingrav'd with art, +Which Dido gave, when first she gave her heart. +But, if in conquer'd Italy we reign, +When spoils by lot the victor shall obtain- +Thou saw'st the courser by proud Turnus press'd: +That, Nisus, and his arms, and nodding crest, +And shield, from chance exempt, shall be thy share: +Twelve lab'ring slaves, twelve handmaids young and fair +All clad in rich attire, and train'd with care; +And, last, a Latian field with fruitful plains, +And a large portion of the king's domains. +But thou, whose years are more to mine allied- +No fate my vow'd affection shall divide +From thee, heroic youth! Be wholly mine; +Take full possession; all my soul is thine. +One faith, one fame, one fate, shall both attend; +My life's companion, and my bosom friend: +My peace shall be committed to thy care, +And to thy conduct my concerns in war." + +Then thus the young Euryalus replied: +"Whatever fortune, good or bad, betide, +The same shall be my age, as now my youth; +No time shall find me wanting to my truth. +This only from your goodness let me gain +(And, this ungranted, all rewards are vain) +Of Priam's royal race my mother came- +And sure the best that ever bore the name- +Whom neither Troy nor Sicily could hold +From me departing, but, o'erspent and old, +My fate she follow'd. Ignorant of this +(Whatever) danger, neither parting kiss, +Nor pious blessing taken, her I leave, +And in this only act of all my life deceive. +By this right hand and conscious Night I swear, +My soul so sad a farewell could not bear. +Be you her comfort; fill my vacant place +(Permit me to presume so great a grace) +Support her age, forsaken and distress'd. +That hope alone will fortify my breast +Against the worst of fortunes, and of fears." +He said. The mov'd assistants melt in tears. + +Then thus Ascanius, wonderstruck to see +That image of his filial piety: +"So great beginnings, in so green an age, +Exact the faith which I again ingage. +Thy mother all the dues shall justly claim, +Creusa had, and only want the name. +Whate'er event thy bold attempt shall have, +'T is merit to have borne a son so brave. +Now by my head, a sacred oath, I swear, +(My father us'd it,) what, returning here +Crown'd with success, I for thyself prepare, +That, if thou fail, shall thy lov'd mother share." + +He said, and weeping, while he spoke the word, +From his broad belt he drew a shining sword, +Magnificent with gold. Lycaon made, +And in an ivory scabbard sheath'd the blade. +This was his gift. Great Mnestheus gave his friend +A lion's hide, his body to defend; +And good Alethes furnish'd him, beside, +With his own trusty helm, of temper tried. + +Thus arm'd they went. The noble Trojans wait +Their issuing forth, and follow to the gate +With prayers and vows. Above the rest appears +Ascanius, manly far beyond his years, +And messages committed to their care, +Which all in winds were lost, and flitting air. + +The trenches first they pass'd; then took their way +Where their proud foes in pitch'd pavilions lay; +To many fatal, ere themselves were slain. +They found the careless host dispers'd upon the plain, +Who, gorg'd, and drunk with wine, supinely snore. +Unharness'd chariots stand along the shore: +Amidst the wheels and reins, the goblet by, +A medley of debauch and war, they lie. +Observing Nisus shew'd his friend the sight: +"Behold a conquest gain'd without a fight. +Occasion offers, and I stand prepar'd; +There lies our way; be thou upon the guard, +And look around, while I securely go, +And hew a passage thro' the sleeping foe." +Softly he spoke; then striding took his way, +With his drawn sword, where haughty Rhamnes lay; +His head rais'd high on tapestry beneath, +And heaving from his breast, he drew his breath; +A king and prophet, by King Turnus lov'd: +But fate by prescience cannot be remov'd. +Him and his sleeping slaves he slew; then spies +Where Remus, with his rich retinue, lies. +His armor-bearer first, and next he kills +His charioteer, intrench'd betwixt the wheels +And his lov'd horses; last invades their lord; +Full on his neck he drives the fatal sword: +The gasping head flies off; a purple flood +Flows from the trunk, that welters in the blood, +Which, by the spurning heels dispers'd around, +The bed besprinkles and bedews the ground. +Lamus the bold, and Lamyrus the strong, +He slew, and then Serranus fair and young. +From dice and wine the youth retir'd to rest, +And puff'd the fumy god from out his breast: +Ev'n then he dreamt of drink and lucky play- +More lucky, had it lasted till the day. +The famish'd lion thus, with hunger bold, +O'erleaps the fences of the nightly fold, +And tears the peaceful flocks: with silent awe +Trembling they lie, and pant beneath his paw. + +Nor with less rage Euryalus employs +The wrathful sword, or fewer foes destroys; +But on th' ignoble crowd his fury flew; +He Fadus, Hebesus, and Rhoetus slew. +Oppress'd with heavy sleep the former fell, +But Rhoetus wakeful, and observing all: +Behind a spacious jar he slink'd for fear; +The fatal iron found and reach'd him there; +For, as he rose, it pierc'd his naked side, +And, reeking, thence return'd in crimson dyed. +The wound pours out a stream of wine and blood; +The purple soul comes floating in the flood. + +Now, where Messapus quarter'd, they arrive. +The fires were fainting there, and just alive; +The warrior-horses, tied in order, fed. +Nisus observ'd the discipline, and said: +"Our eager thirst of blood may both betray; +And see the scatter'd streaks of dawning day, +Foe to nocturnal thefts. No more, my friend; +Here let our glutted execution end. +A lane thro' slaughter'd bodies we have made." +The bold Euryalus, tho' loth, obey'd. +Of arms, and arras, and of plate, they find +A precious load; but these they leave behind. +Yet, fond of gaudy spoils, the boy would stay +To make the rich caparison his prey, +Which on the steed of conquer'd Rhamnes lay. +Nor did his eyes less longingly behold +The girdle-belt, with nails of burnish'd gold. +This present Caedicus the rich bestow'd +On Remulus, when friendship first they vow'd, +And, absent, join'd in hospitable ties: +He, dying, to his heir bequeath'd the prize; +Till, by the conqu'ring Ardean troops oppress'd, +He fell; and they the glorious gift possess'd. +These glitt'ring spoils (now made the victor's gain) +He to his body suits, but suits in vain: +Messapus' helm he finds among the rest, +And laces on, and wears the waving crest. +Proud of their conquest, prouder of their prey, +They leave the camp, and take the ready way. + +But far they had not pass'd, before they spied +Three hundred horse, with Volscens for their guide. +The queen a legion to King Turnus sent; +But the swift horse the slower foot prevent, +And now, advancing, sought the leader's tent. +They saw the pair; for, thro' the doubtful shade, +His shining helm Euryalus betray'd, +On which the moon with full reflection play'd. +"'T is not for naught," cried Volscens from the crowd, +"These men go there;" then rais'd his voice aloud: +"Stand! stand! why thus in arms? And whither bent? +From whence, to whom, and on what errand sent?" +Silent they scud away, and haste their flight +To neighb'ring woods, and trust themselves to night. +The speedy horse all passages belay, +And spur their smoking steeds to cross their way, +And watch each entrance of the winding wood. +Black was the forest: thick with beech it stood, +Horrid with fern, and intricate with thorn; +Few paths of human feet, or tracks of beasts, were worn. +The darkness of the shades, his heavy prey, +And fear, misled the younger from his way. +But Nisus hit the turns with happier haste, +And, thoughtless of his friend, the forest pass'd, +And Alban plains, from Alba's name so call'd, +Where King Latinus then his oxen stall'd; +Till, turning at the length, he stood his ground, +And miss'd his friend, and cast his eyes around: +"Ah wretch!" he cried, "where have I left behind +Th' unhappy youth? where shall I hope to find? +Or what way take?" Again he ventures back, +And treads the mazes of his former track. +He winds the wood, and, list'ning, hears the noise +Of tramping coursers, and the riders' voice. +The sound approach'd; and suddenly he view'd +The foes inclosing, and his friend pursued, +Forelaid and taken, while he strove in vain +The shelter of the friendly shades to gain. +What should he next attempt? what arms employ, +What fruitless force, to free the captive boy? +Or desperate should he rush and lose his life, +With odds oppress'd, in such unequal strife? + +Resolv'd at length, his pointed spear he shook; +And, casting on the moon a mournful look: +"Guardian of groves, and goddess of the night, +Fair queen," he said, "direct my dart aright. +If e'er my pious father, for my sake, +Did grateful off'rings on thy altars make, +Or I increas'd them with my sylvan toils, +And hung thy holy roofs with savage spoils, +Give me to scatter these." Then from his ear +He pois'd, and aim'd, and launch'd the trembling spear. +The deadly weapon, hissing from the grove, +Impetuous on the back of Sulmo drove; +Pierc'd his thin armor, drank his vital blood, +And in his body left the broken +He staggers round; his eyeballs roll in death, +And with short sobs he gasps away his breath. +All stand amaz'd- a second jav'lin flies +With equal strength, and quivers thro' the skies. +This thro' thy temples, Tagus, forc'd the way, +And in the brainpan warmly buried lay. +Fierce Volscens foams with rage, and, gazing round, +Descried not him who gave the fatal wound, +Nor knew to fix revenge: "But thou," he cries, +"Shalt pay for both," and at the pris'ner flies +With his drawn sword. Then, struck with deep despair, +That cruel sight the lover could not bear; +But from his covert rush'd in open view, +And sent his voice before him as he flew: +"Me! me!" he cried- "turn all your swords alone +On me- the fact confess'd, the fault my own. +He neither could nor durst, the guiltless youth: +Ye moon and stars, bear witness to the truth! +His only crime (if friendship can offend) +Is too much love to his unhappy friend." +Too late he speaks: the sword, which fury guides, +Driv'n with full force, had pierc'd his tender sides. +Down fell the beauteous youth: the yawning wound +Gush'd out a purple stream, and stain'd the ground. +His snowy neck reclines upon his breast, +Like a fair flow'r by the keen share oppress'd; +Like a white poppy sinking on the plain, +Whose heavy head is overcharg'd with rain. +Despair, and rage, and vengeance justly vow'd, +Drove Nisus headlong on the hostile crowd. +Volscens he seeks; on him alone he bends: +Borne back and bor'd by his surrounding friends, +Onward he press'd, and kept him still in sight; +Then whirl'd aloft his sword with all his might: +Th' unerring steel descended while he spoke, +Piered his wide mouth, and thro' his weazon broke. +Dying, he slew; and, stagg'ring on the plain, +With swimming eyes he sought his lover slain; +Then quiet on his bleeding bosom fell, +Content, in death, to be reveng'd so well. + +O happy friends! for, if my verse can give +Immortal life, your fame shall ever live, +Fix'd as the Capitol's foundation lies, +And spread, where'er the Roman eagle flies! + +The conqu'ring party first divide the prey, +Then their slain leader to the camp convey. +With wonder, as they went, the troops were fill'd, +To see such numbers whom so few had kill'd. +Serranus, Rhamnes, and the rest, they found: +Vast crowds the dying and the dead surround; +And the yet reeking blood o'erflows the ground. +All knew the helmet which Messapus lost, +But mourn'd a purchase that so dear had cost. +Now rose the ruddy morn from Tithon's bed, +And with the dawn of day the skies o'erspread; +Nor long the sun his daily course withheld, +But added colors to the world reveal'd: +When early Turnus, wak'ning with the light, +All clad in armor, calls his troops to fight. +His martial men with fierce harangue he fir'd, +And his own ardor in their souls inspir'd. +This done- to give new terror to his foes, +The heads of Nisus and his friend he shows, +Rais'd high on pointed spears- a ghastly sight: +Loud peals of shouts ensue, and barbarous delight. + +Meantime the Trojans run, where danger calls; +They line their trenches, and they man their walls. +In front extended to the left they stood; +Safe was the right, surrounded by the flood. +But, casting from their tow'rs a frightful view, +They saw the faces, which too well they knew, +Tho' then disguis'd in death, and smear'd all o'er +With filth obscene, and dropping putrid gore. +Soon hasty fame thro' the sad city bears +The mournful message to the mother's ears. +An icy cold benumbs her limbs; she shakes; +Her cheeks the blood, her hand the web forsakes. +She runs the rampires round amidst the war, +Nor fears the flying darts; she rends her hair, +And fills with loud laments the liquid air. +"Thus, then, my lov'd Euryalus appears! +Thus looks the prop my declining years! +Was't on this face my famish'd eyes I fed? +Ah! how unlike the living is the dead! +And could'st thou leave me, cruel, thus alone? +Not one kind kiss from a departing son! +No look, no last adieu before he went, +In an ill-boding hour to slaughter sent! +Cold on the ground, and pressing foreign clay, +To Latian dogs and fowls he lies a prey! +Nor was I near to close his dying eyes, +To wash his wounds, to weep his obsequies, +To call about his corpse his crying friends, +Or spread the mantle (made for other ends) +On his dear body, which I wove with care, +Nor did my daily pains or nightly labor spare. +Where shall I find his corpse? what earth sustains +His trunk dismember'd, and his cold remains? +For this, alas! I left my needful ease, +Expos'd my life to winds and winter seas! +If any pity touch Rutulian hearts, +Here empty all your quivers, all your darts; +Or, if they fail, thou, Jove, conclude my woe, +And send me thunderstruck to shades below!" +Her shrieks and clamors pierce the Trojans' ears, +Unman their courage, and augment their fears; +Nor young Ascanius could the sight sustain, +Nor old Ilioneus his tears restrain, +But Actor and Idaeus jointly sent, +To bear the madding mother to her tent. + +And now the trumpets terribly, from far, +With rattling clangor, rouse the sleepy war. +The soldiers' shouts succeed the brazen sounds; +And heav'n, from pole to pole, the noise rebounds. +The Volscians bear their shields upon their head, +And, rushing forward, form a moving shed. +These fill the ditch; those pull the bulwarks down: +Some raise the ladders; others scale the town. +But, where void spaces on the walls appear, +Or thin defense, they pour their forces there. +With poles and missive weapons, from afar, +The Trojans keep aloof the rising war. +Taught, by their ten years' siege, defensive fight, +They roll down ribs of rocks, an unresisted weight, +To break the penthouse with the pond'rous blow, +Which yet the patient Volscians undergo: +But could not bear th' unequal combat long; +For, where the Trojans find the thickest throng, +The ruin falls: their shatter'd shields give way, +And their crush'd heads become an easy prey. +They shrink for fear, abated of their rage, +Nor longer dare in a blind fight engage; +Contented now to gall them from below +With darts and slings, and with the distant bow. + +Elsewhere Mezentius, terrible to view, +A blazing pine within the trenches threw. +But brave Messapus, Neptune's warlike son, +Broke down the palisades, the trenches won, +And loud for ladders calls, to scale the town. + +Calliope, begin! Ye sacred Nine, +Inspire your poet in his high design, +To sing what slaughter manly Turnus made, +What souls he sent below the Stygian shade, +What fame the soldiers with their captain share, +And the vast circuit of the fatal war; +For you in singing martial facts excel; +You best remember, and alone can tell. + +There stood a tow'r, amazing to the sight, +Built up of beams, and of stupendous height: +Art, and the nature of the place, conspir'd +To furnish all the strength that war requir'd. +To level this, the bold Italians join; +The wary Trojans obviate their design; +With weighty stones o'erwhelm their troops below, +Shoot thro' the loopholes, and sharp jav'lins throw. +Turnus, the chief, toss'd from his thund'ring hand +Against the wooden walls, a flaming brand: +It stuck, the fiery plague; the winds were high; +The planks were season'd, and the timber dry. +Contagion caught the posts; it spread along, +Scorch'd, and to distance drove the scatter'd throng. +The Trojans fled; the fire pursued amain, +Still gath'ring fast upon the trembling train; +Till, crowding to the corners of the wall, +Down the defense and the defenders fall. +The mighty flaw makes heav'n itself resound: +The dead and dying Trojans strew the ground. +The tow'r, that follow'd on the fallen crew, +Whelm'd o'er their heads, and buried whom it slew: +Some stuck upon the darts themselves had sent; +All the same equal ruin underwent. + +Young Lycus and Helenor only scape; +Sav'd- how, they know not- from the steepy leap. +Helenor, elder of the two: by birth, +On one side royal, one a son of earth, +Whom to the Lydian king Licymnia bare, +And sent her boasted bastard to the war +(A privilege which none but freemen share). +Slight were his arms, a sword and silver shield: +No marks of honor charg'd its empty field. +Light as he fell, so light the youth arose, +And rising, found himself amidst his foes; +Nor flight was left, nor hopes to force his way. +Embolden'd by despair, he stood at bay; +And- like a stag, whom all the troop surrounds +Of eager huntsmen and invading hounds- +Resolv'd on death, he dissipates his fears, +And bounds aloft against the pointed spears: +So dares the youth, secure of death; and throws +His dying body on his thickest foes. +But Lycus, swifter of his feet by far, +Runs, doubles, winds and turns, amidst the war; +Springs to the walls, and leaves his foes behind, +And snatches at the beam he first can find; +Looks up, and leaps aloft at all the stretch, +In hopes the helping hand of some kind friend to reach. +But Turnus follow'd hard his hunted prey +(His spear had almost reach'd him in the way, +Short of his reins, and scarce a span behind) +"Fool!" said the chief, "tho' fleeter than the wind, +Couldst thou presume to scape, when I pursue?" +He said, and downward by the feet he drew +The trembling dastard; at the tug he falls; +Vast ruins come along, rent from the smoking walls. +Thus on some silver swan, or tim'rous hare, +Jove's bird comes sousing down from upper air; +Her crooked talons truss the fearful prey: +Then out of sight she soars, and wings her way. +So seizes the grim wolf the tender lamb, +In vain lamented by the bleating dam. + +Then rushing onward with a barb'rous cry, +The troops of Turnus to the combat fly. +The ditch with fagots fill'd, the daring foe +Toss'd firebrands to the steepy turrets throw. + +Ilioneus, as bold Lucetius came +To force the gate, and feed the kindling flame, +Roll'd down the fragment of a rock so right, +It crush'd him double underneath the weight. +Two more young Liger and Asylas slew: +To bend the bow young Liger better knew; +Asylas best the pointed jav'lin threw. +Brave Caeneus laid Ortygius on the plain; +The victor Caeneus was by Turnus slain. +By the same hand, Clonius and Itys fall, +Sagar, and Ida, standing on the wall. +From Capys' arms his fate Privernus found: +Hurt by Themilla first-but slight the wound- +His shield thrown by, to mitigate the smart, +He clapp'd his hand upon the wounded part: +The second shaft came swift and unespied, +And pierc'd his hand, and nail'd it to his side, +Transfix'd his breathing lungs and beating heart: +The soul came issuing out, and hiss'd against the dart. + +The son of Arcens shone amid the rest, +In glitt'ring armor and a purple vest, +(Fair was his face, his eyes inspiring love,) +Bred by his father in the Martian grove, +Where the fat altars of Palicus flame, +And send in arms to purchase early fame. +Him when he spied from far, the Tuscan king +Laid by the lance, and took him to the sling, +Thrice whirl'd the thong around his head, and threw: +The heated lead half melted as it flew; +It pierc'd his hollow temples and his brain; +The youth came tumbling down, and spurn'd the plain. + +Then young Ascanius, who, before this day, +Was wont in woods to shoot the savage prey, +First bent in martial strife the twanging bow, +And exercis'd against a human foe- +With this bereft Numanus of his life, +Who Turnus' younger sister took to wife. +Proud of his realm, and of his royal bride, +Vaunting before his troops, and lengthen'd with a stride, +In these insulting terms the Trojans he defied: + +"Twice-conquer'd cowards, now your shame is shown- +Coop'd up a second time within your town! +Who dare not issue forth in open field, +But hold your walls before you for a shield. +Thus threat you war? thus our alliance force? +What gods, what madness, hether steer'd your course? +You shall not find the sons of Atreus here, +Nor need the frauds of sly Ulysses fear. +Strong from the cradle, of a sturdy brood, +We bear our newborn infants to the flood; +There bath'd amid the stream, our boys we hold, +With winter harden'd, and inur'd to cold. +They wake before the day to range the wood, +Kill ere they eat, nor taste unconquer'd food. +No sports, but what belong to war, they know: +To break the stubborn colt, to bend the bow. +Our youth, of labor patient, earn their bread; +Hardly they work, with frugal diet fed. +From plows and harrows sent to seek renown, +They fight in fields, and storm the shaken town. +No part of life from toils of war is free, +No change in age, or diff'rence in degree. +We plow and till in arms; our oxen feel, +Instead of goads, the spur and pointed steel; +Th' inverted lance makes furrows in the plain. +Ev'n time, that changes all, yet changes us in vain: +The body, not the mind; nor can control +Th' immortal vigor, or abate the soul. +Our helms defend the young, disguise the gray: +We live by plunder, and delight in prey. +Your vests embroider'd with rich purple shine; +In sloth you glory, and in dances join. +Your vests have sweeping sleeves; with female pride +Your turbants underneath your chins are tied. +Go, Phrygians, to your Dindymus again! +Go, less than women, in the shapes of men! +Go, mix'd with eunuchs, in the Mother's rites, +Where with unequal sound the flute invites; +Sing, dance, and howl, by turns, in Ida's shade: +Resign the war to men, who know the martial trade!" + +This foul reproach Ascanius could not hear +With patience, or a vow'd revenge forbear. +At the full stretch of both his hands he drew, +And almost join'd the horns of the tough yew. +But, first, before the throne of Jove he stood, +And thus with lifted hands invok'd the god: +"My first attempt, great Jupiter, succeed! +An annual off'ring in thy grove shall bleed; +A snow-white steer, before thy altar led, +Who, like his mother, bears aloft his head, +Butts with his threat'ning brows, and bellowing stands, +And dares the fight, and spurns the yellow sands." + +Jove bow'd the heav'ns, and lent a gracious ear, +And thunder'd on the left, amidst the clear. +Sounded at once the bow; and swiftly flies +The feather'd death, and hisses thro' the skies. +The steel thro' both his temples forc'd the way: +Extended on the ground, Numanus lay. +"Go now, vain boaster, and true valor scorn! +The Phrygians, twice subdued, yet make this third return." +Ascanius said no more. The Trojans shake +The heav'ns with shouting, and new vigor take. + +Apollo then bestrode a golden cloud, +To view the feats of arms, and fighting crowd; +And thus the beardless victor he bespoke aloud: +"Advance, illustrious youth, increase in fame, +And wide from east to west extend thy name; +Offspring of gods thyself; and Rome shall owe +To thee a race of demigods below. +This is the way to heav'n: the pow'rs divine +From this beginning date the Julian line. +To thee, to them, and their victorious heirs, +The conquer'd war is due, and the vast world is theirs. +Troy is too narrow for thy name." He said, +And plunging downward shot his radiant head; +Dispell'd the breathing air, that broke his flight: +Shorn of his beams, a man to mortal sight. +Old Butes' form he took, Anchises' squire, +Now left, to rule Ascanius, by his sire: +His wrinkled visage, and his hoary hairs, +His mien, his habit, and his arms, he wears, +And thus salutes the boy, too forward for his years: +"Suffice it thee, thy father's worthy son, +The warlike prize thou hast already won. +The god of archers gives thy youth a part +Of his own praise, nor envies equal art. +Now tempt the war no more." He said, and flew +Obscure in air, and vanish'd from their view. +The Trojans, by his arms, their patron know, +And hear the twanging of his heav'nly bow. +Then duteous force they use, and Phoebus' name, +To keep from fight the youth too fond of fame. +Undaunted, they themselves no danger shun; +From wall to wall the shouts and clamors run. +They bend their bows; they whirl their slings around; +Heaps of spent arrows fall, and strew the ground; +And helms, and shields, and rattling arms resound. +The combat thickens, like the storm that flies +From westward, when the show'ry Kids arise; +Or patt'ring hail comes pouring on the main, +When Jupiter descends in harden'd rain, +Or bellowing clouds burst with a stormy sound, +And with an armed winter strew the ground. + +Pand'rus and Bitias, thunderbolts of war, +Whom Hiera to bold Alcanor bare +On Ida's top, two youths of height and size +Like firs that on their mother mountain rise, +Presuming on their force, the gates unbar, +And of their own accord invite the war. +With fates averse, against their king's command, +Arm'd, on the right and on the left they stand, +And flank the passage: shining steel they wear, +And waving crests above their heads appear. +Thus two tall oaks, that Padus' banks adorn, +Lift up to heav'n their leafy heads unshorn, +And, overpress'd with nature's heavy load, +Dance to the whistling winds, and at each other nod. +In flows a tide of Latians, when they see +The gate set open, and the passage free; +Bold Quercens, with rash Tmarus, rushing on, +Equicolus, that in bright armor shone, +And Haemon first; but soon repuls'd they fly, +Or in the well-defended pass they die. +These with success are fir'd, and those with rage, +And each on equal terms at length ingage. +Drawn from their lines, and issuing on the plain, +The Trojans hand to hand the fight maintain. + +Fierce Turnus in another quarter fought, +When suddenly th' unhop'd-for news was brought, +The foes had left the fastness of their place, +Prevail'd in fight, and had his men in chase. +He quits th' attack, and, to prevent their fate, +Runs where the giant brothers guard the gate. +The first he met, Antiphates the brave, +But base-begotten on a Theban slave, +Sarpedon's son, he slew: the deadly dart +Found passage thro' his breast, and pierc'd his heart. +Fix'd in the wound th' Italian cornel stood, +Warm'd in his lungs, and in his vital blood. +Aphidnus next, and Erymanthus dies, +And Meropes, and the gigantic size +Of Bitias, threat'ning with his ardent eyes. +Not by the feeble dart he fell oppress'd +(A dart were lost within that roomy breast), +But from a knotted lance, large, heavy, strong, +Which roar'd like thunder as it whirl'd along: +Not two bull hides th' impetuous force withhold, +Nor coat of double mail, with scales of gold. +Down sunk the monster bulk and press'd the ground; +His arms and clatt'ring shield on the vast body sound, +Not with less ruin than the Bajan mole, +Rais'd on the seas, the surges to control- +At once comes tumbling down the rocky wall; +Prone to the deep, the stones disjointed fall +Of the vast pile; the scatter'd ocean flies; +Black sands, discolor'd froth, and mingled mud arise: +The frighted billows roll, and seek the shores; +Then trembles Prochyta, then Ischia roars: +Typhoeus, thrown beneath, by Jove's command, +Astonish'd at the flaw that shakes the land, +Soon shifts his weary side, and, scarce awake, +With wonder feels the weight press lighter on his back. + +The warrior god the Latian troops inspir'd, +New strung their sinews, and their courage fir'd, +But chills the Trojan hearts with cold affright: +Then black despair precipitates their flight. + +When Pandarus beheld his brother kill'd, +The town with fear and wild confusion fill'd, +He turns the hinges of the heavy gate +With both his hands, and adds his shoulders to the weight +Some happier friends within the walls inclos'd; +The rest shut out, to certain death expos'd: +Fool as he was, and frantic in his care, +T' admit young Turnus, and include the war! +He thrust amid the crowd, securely bold, +Like a fierce tiger pent amid the fold. +Too late his blazing buckler they descry, +And sparkling fires that shot from either eye, +His mighty members, and his ample breast, +His rattling armor, and his crimson crest. + +Far from that hated face the Trojans fly, +All but the fool who sought his destiny. +Mad Pandarus steps forth, with vengeance vow'd +For Bitias' death, and threatens thus aloud: +"These are not Ardea's walls, nor this the town +Amata proffers with Lavinia's crown: +'T is hostile earth you tread. Of hope bereft, +No means of safe return by flight are left." +To whom, with count'nance calm, and soul sedate, +Thus Turnus: "Then begin, and try thy fate: +My message to the ghost of Priam bear; +Tell him a new Achilles sent thee there." + +A lance of tough ground ash the Trojan threw, +Rough in the rind, and knotted as it grew: +With his full force he whirl'd it first around; +But the soft yielding air receiv'd the wound: +Imperial Juno turn'd the course before, +And fix'd the wand'ring weapon in the door. + +"But hope not thou," said Turnus, "when I strike, +To shun thy fate: our force is not alike, +Nor thy steel temper'd by the Lemnian god." +Then rising, on his utmost stretch he stood, +And aim'd from high: the full descending blow +Cleaves the broad front and beardless cheeks in two. +Down sinks the giant with a thund'ring sound: +His pond'rous limbs oppress the trembling ground; +Blood, brains, and foam gush from the gaping wound: +Scalp, face, and shoulders the keen steel divides, +And the shar'd visage hangs on equal sides. +The Trojans fly from their approaching fate; +And, had the victor then secur'd the gate, +And to his troops without unclos'd the bars, +One lucky day had ended all his wars. +But boiling youth, and blind desire of blood, +Push'd on his fury, to pursue the crowd. +Hamstring'd behind, unhappy Gyges died; +Then Phalaris is added to his side. +The pointed jav'lins from the dead he drew, +And their friends' arms against their fellows threw. +Strong Halys stands in vain; weak Phlegys flies; +Saturnia, still at hand, new force and fire supplies. +Then Halius, Prytanis, Alcander fall- +Ingag'd against the foes who scal'd the wall: +But, whom they fear'd without, they found within. +At last, tho' late, by Lynceus he was seen. +He calls new succors, and assaults the prince: +But weak his force, and vain is their defense. +Turn'd to the right, his sword the hero drew, +And at one blow the bold aggressor slew. +He joints the neck; and, with a stroke so strong, +The helm flies off, and bears the head along. +Next him, the huntsman Amycus he kill'd, +In darts invenom'd and in poison skill'd. +Then Clytius fell beneath his fatal spear, +And Creteus, whom the Muses held so dear: +He fought with courage, and he sung the fight; +Arms were his bus'ness, verses his delight. + +The Trojan chiefs behold, with rage and grief, +Their slaughter'd friends, and hasten their relief. +Bold Mnestheus rallies first the broken train, +Whom brave Seresthus and his troop sustain. +To save the living, and revenge the dead, +Against one warrior's arms all Troy they led. +"O, void of sense and courage!" Mnestheus cried, +"Where can you hope your coward heads to hide? +Ah! where beyond these rampires can you run? +One man, and in your camp inclos'd, you shun! +Shall then a single sword such slaughter boast, +And pass unpunish'd from a num'rous host? +Forsaking honor, and renouncing fame, +Your gods, your country, and your king you shame!" +This just reproach their virtue does excite: +They stand, they join, they thicken to the fight. + +Now Turnus doubts, and yet disdains to yield, +But with slow paces measures back the field, +And inches to the walls, where Tiber's tide, +Washing the camp, defends the weaker side. +The more he loses, they advance the more, +And tread in ev'ry step he trod before. +They shout: they bear him back; and, whom by might +They cannot conquer, they oppress with weight. + +As, compass'd with a wood of spears around, +The lordly lion still maintains his ground; +Grins horrible, retires, and turns again; +Threats his distended paws, and shakes his mane; +He loses while in vain he presses on, +Nor will his courage let him dare to run: +So Turnus fares, and, unresolved of flight, +Moves tardy back, and just recedes from fight. +Yet twice, inrag'd, the combat he renews, +Twice breaks, and twice his broken foes pursues. +But now they swarm, and, with fresh troops supplied, +Come rolling on, and rush from ev'ry side: +Nor Juno, who sustain'd his arms before, +Dares with new strength suffice th' exhausted store; +For Jove, with sour commands, sent Iris down, +To force th' invader from the frighted town. + +With labor spent, no longer can he wield +The heavy fanchion, or sustain the shield, +O'erwhelm'd with darts, which from afar they fling: +The weapons round his hollow temples ring; +His golden helm gives way, with stony blows +Batter'd, and flat, and beaten to his brows. +His crest is rash'd away; his ample shield +Is falsified, and round with jav'lins fill'd. + +The foe, now faint, the Trojans overwhelm; +And Mnestheus lays hard load upon his helm. +Sick sweat succeeds; he drops at ev'ry pore; +With driving dust his cheeks are pasted o'er; +Shorter and shorter ev'ry gasp he takes; +And vain efforts and hurtless blows he makes. +Plung'd in the flood, and made the waters fly. +The yellow god the welcome burthen bore, +And wip'd the sweat, and wash'd away the gore; +Then gently wafts him to the farther coast, +And sends him safe to cheer his anxious host. +BOOK X + +The gates of heav'n unfold: Jove summons all +The gods to council in the common hall. +Sublimely seated, he surveys from far +The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war, +And all th' inferior world. From first to last, +The sov'reign senate in degrees are plac'd. + +Then thus th' almighty sire began: "Ye gods, +Natives or denizens of blest abodes, +From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind, +This backward fate from what was first design'd? +Why this protracted war, when my commands +Pronounc'd a peace, and gave the Latian lands? +What fear or hope on either part divides +Our heav'ns, and arms our powers on diff'rent sides? +A lawful time of war at length will come, +(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom), +When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome, +Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains, +And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains. +Then is your time for faction and debate, +For partial favor, and permitted hate. +Let now your immature dissension cease; +Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace." + +Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge; +But lovely Venus thus replies at large: +"O pow'r immense, eternal energy, +(For to what else protection can we fly?) +Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare +In fields, unpunish'd, and insult my care? +How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his train, +In shining arms, triumphant on the plain? +Ev'n in their lines and trenches they contend, +And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend: +The town is fill'd with slaughter, and o'erfloats, +With a red deluge, their increasing moats. +Aeneas, ignorant, and far from thence, +Has left a camp expos'd, without defense. +This endless outrage shall they still sustain? +Shall Troy renew'd be forc'd and fir'd again? +A second siege my banish'd issue fears, +And a new Diomede in arms appears. +One more audacious mortal will be found; +And I, thy daughter, wait another wound. +Yet, if with fates averse, without thy leave, +The Latian lands my progeny receive, +Bear they the pains of violated law, +And thy protection from their aid withdraw. +But, if the gods their sure success foretell; +If those of heav'n consent with those of hell, +To promise Italy; who dare debate +The pow'r of Jove, or fix another fate? +What should I tell of tempests on the main, +Of Aeolus usurping Neptune's reign? +Of Iris sent, with Bacchanalian heat +T' inspire the matrons, and destroy the fleet? +Now Juno to the Stygian sky descends, +Solicits hell for aid, and arms the fiends. +That new example wanted yet above: +An act that well became the wife of Jove! +Alecto, rais'd by her, with rage inflames +The peaceful bosoms of the Latian dames. +Imperial sway no more exalts my mind; +(Such hopes I had indeed, while Heav'n was kind;) +Now let my happier foes possess my place, +Whom Jove prefers before the Trojan race; +And conquer they, whom you with conquest grace. +Since you can spare, from all your wide command, +No spot of earth, no hospitable land, +Which may my wand'ring fugitives receive; +(Since haughty Juno will not give you leave;) +Then, father, (if I still may use that name,) +By ruin'd Troy, yet smoking from the flame, +I beg you, let Ascanius, by my care, +Be freed from danger, and dismiss'd the war: +Inglorious let him live, without a crown. +The father may be cast on coasts unknown, +Struggling with fate; but let me save the son. +Mine is Cythera, mine the Cyprian tow'rs: +In those recesses, and those sacred bow'rs, +Obscurely let him rest; his right resign +To promis'd empire, and his Julian line. +Then Carthage may th' Ausonian towns destroy, +Nor fear the race of a rejected boy. +What profits it my son to scape the fire, +Arm'd with his gods, and loaded with his sire; +To pass the perils of the seas and wind; +Evade the Greeks, and leave the war behind; +To reach th' Italian shores; if, after all, +Our second Pergamus is doom'd to fall? +Much better had he curb'd his high desires, +And hover'd o'er his ill-extinguish'd fires. +To Simois' banks the fugitives restore, +And give them back to war, and all the woes before." + +Deep indignation swell'd Saturnia's heart: +"And must I own," she said, "my secret smart- +What with more decence were in silence kept, +And, but for this unjust reproach, had slept? +Did god or man your fav'rite son advise, +With war unhop'd the Latians to surprise? +By fate, you boast, and by the gods' decree, +He left his native land for Italy! +Confess the truth; by mad Cassandra, more +Than Heav'n inspir'd, he sought a foreign shore! +Did I persuade to trust his second Troy +To the raw conduct of a beardless boy, +With walls unfinish'd, which himself forsakes, +And thro' the waves a wand'ring voyage takes? +When have I urg'd him meanly to demand +The Tuscan aid, and arm a quiet land? +Did I or Iris give this mad advice, +Or made the fool himself the fatal choice? +You think it hard, the Latians should destroy +With swords your Trojans, and with fires your Troy! +Hard and unjust indeed, for men to draw +Their native air, nor take a foreign law! +That Turnus is permitted still to live, +To whom his birth a god and goddess give! +But yet is just and lawful for your line +To drive their fields, and force with fraud to join; +Realms, not your own, among your clans divide, +And from the bridegroom tear the promis'd bride; +Petition, while you public arms prepare; +Pretend a peace, and yet provoke a war! +'T was giv'n to you, your darling son to shroud, +To draw the dastard from the fighting crowd, +And, for a man, obtend an empty cloud. +From flaming fleets you turn'd the fire away, +And chang'd the ships to daughters of the sea. +But is my crime- the Queen of Heav'n offends, +If she presume to save her suff'ring friends! +Your son, not knowing what his foes decree, +You say, is absent: absent let him be. +Yours is Cythera, yours the Cyprian tow'rs, +The soft recesses, and the sacred bow'rs. +Why do you then these needless arms prepare, +And thus provoke a people prone to war? +Did I with fire the Trojan town deface, +Or hinder from return your exil'd race? +Was I the cause of mischief, or the man +Whose lawless lust the fatal war began? +Think on whose faith th' adult'rous youth relied; +Who promis'd, who procur'd, the Spartan bride? +When all th' united states of Greece combin'd, +To purge the world of the perfidious kind, +Then was your time to fear the Trojan fate: +Your quarrels and complaints are now too late." + +Thus Juno. Murmurs rise, with mix'd applause, +Just as they favor or dislike the cause. +So winds, when yet unfledg'd in woods they lie, +In whispers first their tender voices try, +Then issue on the main with bellowing rage, +And storms to trembling mariners presage. + +Then thus to both replied th' imperial god, +Who shakes heav'n's axles with his awful nod. +(When he begins, the silent senate stand +With rev'rence, list'ning to the dread command: +The clouds dispel; the winds their breath restrain; +And the hush'd waves lie flatted on the main.) +"Celestials, your attentive ears incline! +Since," said the god, "the Trojans must not join +In wish'd alliance with the Latian line; +Since endless jarrings and immortal hate +Tend but to discompose our happy state; +The war henceforward be resign'd to fate: +Each to his proper fortune stand or fall; +Equal and unconcern'd I look on all. +Rutulians, Trojans, are the same to me; +And both shall draw the lots their fates decree. +Let these assault, if Fortune be their friend; +And, if she favors those, let those defend: +The Fates will find their way." The Thund'rer said, +And shook the sacred honors of his head, +Attesting Styx, th' inviolable flood, +And the black regions of his brother god. +Trembled the poles of heav'n, and earth confess'd the nod. +This end the sessions had: the senate rise, +And to his palace wait their sov'reign thro' the skies. + +Meantime, intent upon their siege, the foes +Within their walls the Trojan host inclose: +They wound, they kill, they watch at ev'ry gate; +Renew the fires, and urge their happy fate. + +Th' Aeneans wish in vain their wanted chief, +Hopeless of flight, more hopeless of relief. +Thin on the tow'rs they stand; and ev'n those few +A feeble, fainting, and dejected crew. +Yet in the face of danger some there stood: +The two bold brothers of Sarpedon's blood, +Asius and Acmon; both th' Assaraci; +Young Haemon, and tho' young, resolv'd to die. +With these were Clarus and Thymoetes join'd; +Tibris and Castor, both of Lycian kind. +From Acmon's hands a rolling stone there came, +So large, it half deserv'd a mountain's name: +Strong-sinew'd was the youth, and big of bone; +His brother Mnestheus could not more have done, +Or the great father of th' intrepid son. +Some firebrands throw, some flights of arrows send; +And some with darts, and some with stones defend. + +Amid the press appears the beauteous boy, +The care of Venus, and the hope of Troy. +His lovely face unarm'd, his head was bare; +In ringlets o'er his shoulders hung his hair. +His forehead circled with a diadem; +Distinguish'd from the crowd, he shines a gem, +Enchas'd in gold, or polish'd iv'ry set, +Amidst the meaner foil of sable jet. + +Nor Ismarus was wanting to the war, +Directing pointed arrows from afar, +And death with poison arm'd- in Lydia born, +Where plenteous harvests the fat fields adorn; +Where proud Pactolus floats the fruitful lands, +And leaves a rich manure of golden sands. +There Capys, author of the Capuan name, +And there was Mnestheus too, increas'd in fame, +Since Turnus from the camp he cast with shame. + +Thus mortal war was wag'd on either side. +Meantime the hero cuts the nightly tide: +For, anxious, from Evander when he went, +He sought the Tyrrhene camp, and Tarchon's tent; +Expos'd the cause of coming to the chief; +His name and country told, and ask'd relief; +Propos'd the terms; his own small strength declar'd; +What vengeance proud Mezentius had prepar'd: +What Turnus, bold and violent, design'd; +Then shew'd the slipp'ry state of humankind, +And fickle fortune; warn'd him to beware, +And to his wholesome counsel added pray'r. +Tarchon, without delay, the treaty signs, +And to the Trojan troops the Tuscan joins. + +They soon set sail; nor now the fates withstand; +Their forces trusted with a foreign hand. +Aeneas leads; upon his stern appear +Two lions carv'd, which rising Ida bear- +Ida, to wand'ring Trojans ever dear. +Under their grateful shade Aeneas sate, +Revolving war's events, and various fate. +His left young Pallas kept, fix'd to his side, +And oft of winds enquir'd, and of the tide; +Oft of the stars, and of their wat'ry way; +And what he suffer'd both by land and sea. + +Now, sacred sisters, open all your spring! +The Tuscan leaders, and their army sing, +Which follow'd great Aeneas to the war: +Their arms, their numbers, and their names declare. + +A thousand youths brave Massicus obey, +Borne in the Tiger thro' the foaming sea; +From Asium brought, and Cosa, by his care: +For arms, light quivers, bows and shafts, they bear. +Fierce Abas next: his men bright armor wore; +His stern Apollo's golden statue bore. +Six hundred Populonia sent along, +All skill'd in martial exercise, and strong. +Three hundred more for battle Ilva joins, +An isle renown'd for steel, and unexhausted mines. +Asylas on his prow the third appears, +Who heav'n interprets, and the wand'ring stars; +From offer'd entrails prodigies expounds, +And peals of thunder, with presaging sounds. +A thousand spears in warlike order stand, +Sent by the Pisans under his command. + +Fair Astur follows in the wat'ry field, +Proud of his manag'd horse and painted shield. +Gravisca, noisome from the neighb'ring fen, +And his own Caere, sent three hundred men; +With those which Minio's fields and Pyrgi gave, +All bred in arms, unanimous, and brave. + +Thou, Muse, the name of Cinyras renew, +And brave Cupavo follow'd but by few; +Whose helm confess'd the lineage of the man, +And bore, with wings display'd, a silver swan. +Love was the fault of his fam'd ancestry, +Whose forms and fortunes in his ensigns fly. +For Cycnus lov'd unhappy Phaeton, +And sung his loss in poplar groves, alone, +Beneath the sister shades, to soothe his grief. +Heav'n heard his song, and hasten'd his relief, +And chang'd to snowy plumes his hoary hair, +And wing'd his flight, to chant aloft in air. +His son Cupavo brush'd the briny flood: +Upon his stern a brawny Centaur stood, +Who heav'd a rock, and, threat'ning still to throw, +With lifted hands alarm'd the seas below: +They seem'd to fear the formidable sight, +And roll'd their billows on, to speed his flight. + +Ocnus was next, who led his native train +Of hardy warriors thro' the wat'ry plain: +The son of Manto by the Tuscan stream, +From whence the Mantuan town derives the name- +An ancient city, but of mix'd descent: +Three sev'ral tribes compose the government; +Four towns are under each; but all obey +The Mantuan laws, and own the Tuscan sway. + +Hate to Mezentius arm'd five hundred more, +Whom Mincius from his sire Benacus bore: +Mincius, with wreaths of reeds his forehead cover'd o'er. +These grave Auletes leads: a hundred sweep +With stretching oars at once the glassy deep. +Him and his martial train the Triton bears; +High on his poop the sea-green god appears: +Frowning he seems his crooked shell to sound, +And at the blast the billows dance around. +A hairy man above the waist he shows; +A porpoise tail beneath his belly grows; +And ends a fish: his breast the waves divides, +And froth and foam augment the murm'ring tides. + +Full thirty ships transport the chosen train +For Troy's relief, and scour the briny main. + +Now was the world forsaken by the sun, +And Phoebe half her nightly race had run. +The careful chief, who never clos'd his eyes, +Himself the rudder holds, the sails supplies. +A choir of Nereids meet him on the flood, +Once his own galleys, hewn from Ida's wood; +But now, as many nymphs, the sea they sweep, +As rode, before, tall vessels on the deep. +They know him from afar; and in a ring +Inclose the ship that bore the Trojan king. +Cymodoce, whose voice excell'd the rest, +Above the waves advanc'd her snowy breast; +Her right hand stops the stern; her left divides +The curling ocean, and corrects the tides. +She spoke for all the choir, and thus began +With pleasing words to warn th' unknowing man: +"Sleeps our lov'd lord? O goddess-born, awake! +Spread ev'ry sail, pursue your wat'ry track, +And haste your course. Your navy once were we, +From Ida's height descending to the sea; +Till Turnus, as at anchor fix'd we stood, +Presum'd to violate our holy wood. +Then, loos'd from shore, we fled his fires profane +(Unwillingly we broke our master's chain), +And since have sought you thro' the Tuscan main. +The mighty Mother chang'd our forms to these, +And gave us life immortal in the seas. +But young Ascanius, in his camp distress'd, +By your insulting foes is hardly press'd. +Th' Arcadian horsemen, and Etrurian host, +Advance in order on the Latian coast: +To cut their way the Daunian chief designs, +Before their troops can reach the Trojan lines. +Thou, when the rosy morn restores the light, +First arm thy soldiers for th' ensuing fight: +Thyself the fated sword of Vulcan wield, +And bear aloft th' impenetrable shield. +To-morrow's sun, unless my skill be vain, +Shall see huge heaps of foes in battle slain." +Parting, she spoke; and with immortal force +Push'd on the vessel in her wat'ry course; +For well she knew the way. Impell'd behind, +The ship flew forward, and outstripp'd the wind. +The rest make up. Unknowing of the cause, +The chief admires their speed, and happy omens draws. + +Then thus he pray'd, and fix'd on heav'n his eyes: +"Hear thou, great Mother of the deities. +With turrets crown'd! (on Ida's holy hill +Fierce tigers, rein'd and curb'd, obey thy will.) +Firm thy own omens; lead us on to fight; +And let thy Phrygians conquer in thy right." + +He said no more. And now renewing day +Had chas'd the shadows of the night away. +He charg'd the soldiers, with preventing care, +Their flags to follow, and their arms prepare; +Warn'd of th' ensuing fight, and bade 'em hope the war. +Now, his lofty poop, he view'd below +His camp incompass'd, and th' inclosing foe. +His blazing shield, imbrac'd, he held on high; +The camp receive the sign, and with loud shouts reply. +Hope arms their courage: from their tow'rs they throw +Their darts with double force, and drive the foe. +Thus, at the signal giv'n, the cranes arise +Before the stormy south, and blacken all the skies. + +King Turnus wonder'd at the fight renew'd, +Till, looking back, the Trojan fleet he view'd, +The seas with swelling canvas cover'd o'er, +And the swift ships descending on the shore. +The Latians saw from far, with dazzled eyes, +The radiant crest that seem'd in flames to rise, +And dart diffusive fires around the field, +And the keen glitt'ring the golden shield. +Thus threat'ning comets, when by night they rise, +Shoot sanguine streams, and sadden all the skies: +So Sirius, flashing forth sinister lights, +Pale humankind with plagues and with dry famine fright: + +Yet Turnus with undaunted mind is bent +To man the shores, and hinder their descent, +And thus awakes the courage of his friends: +"What you so long have wish'd, kind Fortune sends; +In ardent arms to meet th' invading foe: +You find, and find him at advantage now. +Yours is the day: you need but only dare; +Your swords will make you masters of the war. +Your sires, your sons, your houses, and your lands, +And dearest wifes, are all within your hands. +Be mindful of the race from whence you came, +And emulate in arms your fathers' fame. +Now take the time, while stagg'ring yet they stand +With feet unfirm, and prepossess the strand: +Fortune befriends the bold." Nor more he said, +But balanc'd whom to leave, and whom to lead; +Then these elects, the landing to prevent; +And those he leaves, to keep the city pent. + +Meantime the Trojan sends his troops ashore: +Some are by boats expos'd, by bridges more. +With lab'ring oars they bear along the strand, +Where the tide languishes, and leap aland. +Tarchon observes the coast with careful eyes, +And, where no ford he finds, no water fries, +Nor billows with unequal murmurs roar, +But smoothly slide along, and swell the shore, +That course he steer'd, and thus he gave command: +"Here ply your oars, and at all hazard land: +Force on the vessel, that her keel may wound +This hated soil, and furrow hostile ground. +Let me securely land- I ask no more; +Then sink my ships, or shatter on the shore." + +This fiery speech inflames his fearful friends: +They tug at ev'ry oar, and ev'ry stretcher bends; +They run their ships aground; the vessels knock, +(Thus forc'd ashore,) and tremble with the shock. +Tarchon's alone was lost, that stranded stood, +Stuck on a bank, and beaten by the flood: +She breaks her back; the loosen'd sides give way, +And plunge the Tuscan soldiers in the sea. +Their broken oars and floating planks withstand +Their passage, while they labor to the land, +And ebbing tides bear back upon th' uncertain sand. + +Now Turnus leads his troops without delay, +Advancing to the margin of the sea. +The trumpets sound: Aeneas first assail'd +The clowns new-rais'd and raw, and soon prevail'd. +Great Theron fell, an omen of the fight; +Great Theron, large of limbs, of giant height. +He first in open field defied the prince: +But armor scal'd with gold was no defense +Against the fated sword, which open'd wide +His plated shield, and pierc'd his naked side. +Next, Lichas fell, who, not like others born, +Was from his wretched mother ripp'd and torn; +Sacred, O Phoebus, from his birth to thee; +For his beginning life from biting steel was free. +Not far from him was Gyas laid along, +Of monstrous bulk; with Cisseus fierce and strong: +Vain bulk and strength! for, when the chief assail'd, +Nor valor nor Herculean arms avail'd, +Nor their fam'd father, wont in war to go +With great Alcides, while he toil'd below. +The noisy Pharos next receiv'd his death: +Aeneas writh'd his dart, and stopp'd his bawling breath. +Then wretched Cydon had receiv'd his doom, +Who courted Clytius in his beardless bloom, +And sought with lust obscene polluted joys: +The Trojan sword had curd his love of boys, +Had not his sev'n bold brethren stopp'd the course +Of the fierce champions, with united force. +Sev'n darts were thrown at once; and some rebound +From his bright shield, some on his helmet sound: +The rest had reach'd him; but his mother's care +Prevented those, and turn'd aside in air. + +The prince then call'd Achates, to supply +The spears that knew the way to victory- +"Those fatal weapons, which, inur'd to blood, +In Grecian bodies under Ilium stood: +Not one of those my hand shall toss in vain +Against our foes, on this contended plain." +He said; then seiz'd a mighty spear, and threw; +Which, wing'd with fate, thro' Maeon's buckler flew, +Pierc'd all the brazen plates, and reach'd his heart: +He stagger'd with intolerable smart. +Alcanor saw; and reach'd, but reach'd in vain, +His helping hand, his brother to sustain. +A second spear, which kept the former course, +From the same hand, and sent with equal force, +His right arm pierc'd, and holding on, bereft +His use of both, and pinion'd down his left. +Then Numitor from his dead brother drew +Th' ill-omen'd spear, and at the Trojan threw: +Preventing fate directs the lance awry, +Which, glancing, only mark'd Achates' thigh. + +In pride of youth the Sabine Clausus came, +And, from afar, at Dryops took his aim. +The spear flew hissing thro' the middle space, +And pierc'd his throat, directed at his face; +It stopp'd at once the passage of his wind, +And the free soul to flitting air resign'd: +His forehead was the first that struck the ground; +Lifeblood and life rush'd mingled thro' the wound. +He slew three brothers of the Borean race, +And three, whom Ismarus, their native place, +Had sent to war, but all the sons of Thrace. +Halesus, next, the bold Aurunci leads: +The son of Neptune to his aid succeeds, +Conspicuous on his horse. On either hand, +These fight to keep, and those to win, the land. +With mutual blood th' Ausonian soil is dyed, +While on its borders each their claim decide. +As wintry winds, contending in the sky, +With equal force of lungs their titles try: +They rage, they roar; the doubtful rack of heav'n +Stands without motion, and the tide undriv'n: +Each bent to conquer, neither side to yield, +They long suspend the fortune of the field. +Both armies thus perform what courage can; +Foot set to foot, and mingled man to man. + +But, in another part, th' Arcadian horse +With ill success ingage the Latin force: +For, where th' impetuous torrent, rushing down, +Huge craggy stones and rooted trees had thrown, +They left their coursers, and, unus'd to fight +On foot, were scatter'd in a shameful flight. +Pallas, who with disdain and grief had view'd +His foes pursuing, and his friends pursued, +Us'd threat'nings mix'd with pray'rs, his last resource, +With these to move their minds, with those to fire their force +"Which way, companions? whether would you run? +By you yourselves, and mighty battles won, +By my great sire, by his establish'd name, +And early promise of my future fame; +By my youth, emulous of equal right +To share his honors- shun ignoble flight! +Trust not your feet: your hands must hew way +Thro' yon black body, and that thick array: +'T is thro' that forward path that we must come; +There lies our way, and that our passage home. +Nor pow'rs above, nor destinies below +Oppress our arms: with equal strength we go, +With mortal hands to meet a mortal foe. +See on what foot we stand: a scanty shore, +The sea behind, our enemies before; +No passage left, unless we swim the main; +Or, forcing these, the Trojan trenches gain." +This said, he strode with eager haste along, +And bore amidst the thickest of the throng. +Lagus, the first he met, with fate to foe, +Had heav'd a stone of mighty weight, to throw: +Stooping, the spear descended on his chine, +Just where the bone distinguished either loin: +It stuck so fast, so deeply buried lay, +That scarce the victor forc'd the steel away. +Hisbon came on: but, while he mov'd too slow +To wish'd revenge, the prince prevents his blow; +For, warding his at once, at once he press'd, +And plung'd the fatal weapon in his breast. +Then lewd Anchemolus he laid in dust, +Who stain'd his stepdam's bed with impious lust. +And, after him, the Daucian twins were slain, +Laris and Thymbrus, on the Latian plain; +So wondrous like in feature, shape, and size, +As caus'd an error in their parents' eyes- +Grateful mistake! but soon the sword decides +The nice distinction, and their fate divides: +For Thymbrus' head was lopp'd; and Laris' hand, +Dismember'd, sought its owner on the strand: +The trembling fingers yet the fauchion strain, +And threaten still th' intended stroke in vain. + +Now, to renew the charge, th' Arcadians came: +Sight of such acts, and sense of honest shame, +And grief, with anger mix'd, their minds inflame. +Then, with a casual blow was Rhoeteus slain, +Who chanc'd, as Pallas threw, to cross the plain: +The flying spear was after Ilus sent; +But Rhoeteus happen'd on a death unmeant: +From Teuthras and from Tyres while he fled, +The lance, athwart his body, laid him dead: +Roll'd from his chariot with a mortal wound, +And intercepted fate, he spurn'd the ground. +As when, in summer, welcome winds arise, +The watchful shepherd to the forest flies, +And fires the midmost plants; contagion spreads, +And catching flames infect the neighb'ring heads; +Around the forest flies the furious blast, +And all the leafy nation sinks at last, +And Vulcan rides in triumph o'er the waste; +The pastor, pleas'd with his dire victory, +Beholds the satiate flames in sheets ascend the sky: +So Pallas' troops their scatter'd strength unite, +And, pouring on their foes, their prince delight. + +Halesus came, fierce with desire of blood; +But first collected in his arms he stood: +Advancing then, he plied the spear so well, +Ladon, Demodocus, and Pheres fell. +Around his head he toss'd his glitt'ring brand, +And from Strymonius hew'd his better hand, +Held up to guard his throat; then hurl'd a stone +At Thoas' ample front, and pierc'd the bone: +It struck beneath the space of either eye; +And blood, and mingled brains, together fly. +Deep skill'd in future fates, Halesus' sire +Did with the youth to lonely groves retire: +But, when the father's mortal race was run, +Dire destiny laid hold upon the son, +And haul'd him to the war, to find, beneath +Th' Evandrian spear, a memorable death. +Pallas th' encounter seeks, but, ere he throws, +To Tuscan Tiber thus address'd his vows: +"O sacred stream, direct my flying dart, +And give to pass the proud Halesus' heart! +His arms and spoils thy holy oak shall bear." +Pleas'd with the bribe, the god receiv'd his pray'r: +For, while his shield protects a friend distress'd, +The dart came driving on, and pierc'd his breast. + +But Lausus, no small portion of the war, +Permits not panic fear to reign too far, +Caus'd by the death of so renown'd a knight; +But by his own example cheers the fight. +Fierce Abas first he slew; Abas, the stay +Of Trojan hopes, and hindrance of the day. +The Phrygian troops escap'd the Greeks in vain: +They, and their mix'd allies, now load the plain. +To the rude shock of war both armies came; +Their leaders equal, and their strength the same. +The rear so press'd the front, they could not wield +Their angry weapons, to dispute the field. +Here Pallas urges on, and Lausus there: +Of equal youth and beauty both appear, +But both by fate forbid to breathe their native air. +Their congress in the field great Jove withstands: +Both doom'd to fall, but fall by greater hands. + +Meantime Juturna warns the Daunian chief +Of Lausus' danger, urging swift relief. +With his driv'n chariot he divides the crowd, +And, making to his friends, thus calls aloud: +"Let none presume his needless aid to join; +Retire, and clear the field; the fight is mine: +To this right hand is Pallas only due; +O were his father here, my just revenge to view!" +From the forbidden space his men retir'd. +Pallas their awe, and his stern words, admir'd; +Survey'd him o'er and o'er with wond'ring sight, +Struck with his haughty mien, and tow'ring height. +Then to the king: "Your empty vaunts forbear; +Success I hope, and fate I cannot fear; +Alive or dead, I shall deserve a name; +Jove is impartial, and to both the same." +He said, and to the void advanc'd his pace: +Pale horror sate on each Arcadian face. +Then Turnus, from his chariot leaping light, +Address'd himself on foot to single fight. +And, as a lion- when he spies from far +A bull that seems to meditate the war, +Bending his neck, and spurning back the sand- +Runs roaring downward from his hilly stand: +Imagine eager Turnus not more slow, +To rush from high on his unequal foe. + +Young Pallas, when he saw the chief advance +Within due distance of his flying lance, +Prepares to charge him first, resolv'd to try +If fortune would his want of force supply; +And thus to Heav'n and Hercules address'd: +"Alcides, once on earth Evander's guest, +His son adjures you by those holy rites, +That hospitable board, those genial nights; +Assist my great attempt to gain this prize, +And let proud Turnus view, with dying eyes, +His ravish'd spoils." 'T was heard, the vain request; +Alcides mourn'd, and stifled sighs within his breast. +Then Jove, to soothe his sorrow, thus began: +"Short bounds of life are set to mortal man. +'T is virtue's work alone to stretch the narrow span. +So many sons of gods, in bloody fight, +Around the walls of Troy, have lost the light: +My own Sarpedon fell beneath his foe; +Nor I, his mighty sire, could ward the blow. +Ev'n Turnus shortly shall resign his breath, +And stands already on the verge of death." +This said, the god permits the fatal fight, +But from the Latian fields averts his sight. + +Now with full force his spear young Pallas threw, +And, having thrown, his shining fauchion drew +The steel just graz'd along the shoulder joint, +And mark'd it slightly with the glancing point, +Fierce Turnus first to nearer distance drew, +And pois'd his pointed spear, before he threw: +Then, as the winged weapon whizz'd along, +"See now," said he, "whose arm is better strung." +The spear kept on the fatal course, unstay'd +By plates of ir'n, which o'er the shield were laid: +Thro' folded brass and tough bull hides it pass'd, +His corslet pierc'd, and reach'd his heart at last. +In vain the youth tugs at the broken wood; +The soul comes issuing with the vital blood: +He falls; his arms upon his body sound; +And with his bloody teeth he bites the ground. + +Turnus bestrode the corpse: "Arcadians, hear," +Said he; "my message to your master bear: +Such as the sire deserv'd, the son I send; +It costs him dear to be the Phrygians' friend. +The lifeless body, tell him, I bestow, +Unask'd, to rest his wand'ring ghost below." +He said, and trampled down with all the force +Of his left foot, and spurn'd the wretched corse; +Then snatch'd the shining belt, with gold inlaid; +The belt Eurytion's artful hands had made, +Where fifty fatal brides, express'd to sight, +All in the compass of one mournful night, +Depriv'd their bridegrooms of returning light. + +In an ill hour insulting Turnus tore +Those golden spoils, and in a worse he wore. +O mortals, blind in fate, who never know +To bear high fortune, or endure the low! +The time shall come, when Turnus, but in vain, +Shall wish untouch'd the trophies of the slain; +Shall wish the fatal belt were far away, +And curse the dire remembrance of the day. + +The sad Arcadians, from th' unhappy field, +Bear back the breathless body on a shield. +O grace and grief of war! at once restor'd, +With praises, to thy sire, at once deplor'd! +One day first sent thee to the fighting field, +Beheld whole heaps of foes in battle kill'd; +One day beheld thee dead, and borne upon thy shield. +This dismal news, not from uncertain fame, +But sad spectators, to the hero came: +His friends upon the brink of ruin stand, +Unless reliev'd by his victorious hand. +He whirls his sword around, without delay, +And hews thro' adverse foes an ample way, +To find fierce Turnus, of his conquest proud: +Evander, Pallas, all that friendship ow'd +To large deserts, are present to his eyes; +His plighted hand, and hospitable ties. + +Four sons of Sulmo, four whom Ufens bred, +He took in fight, and living victims led, +To please the ghost of Pallas, and expire, +In sacrifice, before his fun'ral fire. +At Magus next he threw: he stoop'd below +The flying spear, and shunn'd the promis'd blow; +Then, creeping, clasp'd the hero's knees, and pray'd: +"By young Iulus, by thy father's shade, +O spare my life, and send me back to see +My longing sire, and tender progeny! +A lofty house I have, and wealth untold, +In silver ingots, and in bars of gold: +All these, and sums besides, which see no day, +The ransom of this one poor life shall pay. +If I survive, will Troy the less prevail? +A single soul's too light to turn the scale." +He said. The hero sternly thus replied: +"Thy bars and ingots, and the sums beside, +Leave for thy children's lot. Thy Turnus broke +All rules of war by one relentless stroke, +When Pallas fell: so deems, nor deems alone +My father's shadow, but my living son." +Thus having said, of kind remorse bereft, +He seiz'd his helm, and dragg'd him with his left; +Then with his right hand, while his neck he wreath'd, +Up to the hilts his shining fauchion sheath'd. + +Apollo's priest, Emonides, was near; +His holy fillets on his front appear; +Glitt'ring in arms, he shone amidst the crowd; +Much of his god, more of his purple, proud. +Him the fierce Trojan follow'd thro' the field: +The holy coward fell; and, forc'd to yield, +The prince stood o'er the priest, and, at one blow, +Sent him an off'ring to the shades below. +His arms Seresthus on his shoulders bears, +Design'd a trophy to the God of Wars. + +Vulcanian Caeculus renews the fight, +And Umbro, born upon the mountains' height. +The champion cheers his troops t' encounter those, +And seeks revenge himself on other foes. +At Anxur's shield he drove; and, at the blow, +Both shield and arm to ground together go. +Anxur had boasted much of magic charms, +And thought he wore impenetrable arms, +So made by mutter'd spells; and, from the spheres, +Had life secur'd, in vain, for length of years. +Then Tarquitus the field triumph trod; +A nymph his mother, his sire a god. +Exulting in bright arms, he braves the prince: +With his protended lance he makes defense; +Bears back his feeble foe; then, pressing on, +Arrests his better hand, and drags him down; +Stands o'er the prostrate wretch, and, as he lay, +Vain tales inventing, and prepar'd to pray, +Mows off his head: the trunk a moment stood, +Then sunk, and roll'd along the sand in blood. +The vengeful victor thus upbraids the slain: +"Lie there, proud man, unpitied, on the plain; +Lie there, inglorious, and without a tomb, +Far from thy mother and thy native home, +Exposed to savage beasts, and birds of prey, +Or thrown for food to monsters of the sea." + +On Lycas and Antaeus next he ran, +Two chiefs of Turnus, and who led his van. +They fled for fear; with these, he chas'd along +Camers the yellow-lock'd, and Numa strong; +Both great in arms, and both were fair and young. +Camers was son to Volscens lately slain, +In wealth surpassing all the Latian train, +And in Amycla fix'd his silent easy reign. +And, as Aegaeon, when with heav'n he strove, +Stood opposite in arms to mighty Jove; +Mov'd all his hundred hands, provok'd the war, +Defied the forky lightning from afar; +At fifty mouths his flaming breath expires, +And flash for flash returns, and fires for fires; +In his right hand as many swords he wields, +And takes the thunder on as many shields: +With strength like his, the Trojan hero stood; +And soon the fields with falling corps were strow'd, +When once his fauchion found the taste of blood. +With fury scarce to be conceiv'd, he flew +Against Niphaeus, whom four coursers drew. +They, when they see the fiery chief advance, +And pushing at their chests his pointed lance, +Wheel'd with so swift a motion, mad with fear, +They threw their master headlong from the chair. +They stare, they start, nor stop their course, before +They bear the bounding chariot to the shore. + +Now Lucagus and Liger scour the plains, +With two white steeds; but Liger holds the reins, +And Lucagus the lofty seat maintains: +Bold brethren both. The former wav'd in air +His flaming sword: Aeneas couch'd his spear, +Unus'd to threats, and more unus'd to fear. +Then Liger thus: "Thy confidence is vain +To scape from hence, as from the Trojan plain: +Nor these the steeds which Diomede bestrode, +Nor this the chariot where Achilles rode; +Nor Venus' veil is here, near Neptune's shield; +Thy fatal hour is come, and this the field." +Thus Liger vainly vaunts: the Trojan +Return'd his answer with his flying spear. +As Lucagus, to lash his horses, bends, +Prone to the wheels, and his left foot protends, +Prepar'd for fight; the fatal dart arrives, +And thro' the borders of his buckler drives; +Pass'd thro' and pierc'd his groin: the deadly wound, +Cast from his chariot, roll'd him on the ground. +Whom thus the chief upbraids with scornful spite: +"Blame not the slowness of your steeds in flight; +Vain shadows did not force their swift retreat; +But you yourself forsake your empty seat." +He said, and seiz'd at once the loosen'd rein; +For Liger lay already on the plain, +By the same shock: then, stretching out his hands, +The recreant thus his wretched life demands: +"Now, by thyself, O more than mortal man! +By her and him from whom thy breath began, +Who form'd thee thus divine, I beg thee, spare +This forfeit life, and hear thy suppliant's pray'r." +Thus much he spoke, and more he would have said; +But the stern hero turn'd aside his head, +And cut him short: "I hear another man; +You talk'd not thus before the fight began. +Now take your turn; and, as a brother should, +Attend your brother to the Stygian flood." +Then thro' his breast his fatal sword he sent, +And the soul issued at the gaping vent. + +As storms the skies, and torrents tear the ground, +Thus rag'd the prince, and scatter'd deaths around. +At length Ascanius and the Trojan train +Broke from the camp, so long besieg'd in vain. + +Meantime the King of Gods and Mortal Man +Held conference with his queen, and thus began: +"My sister goddess, and well-pleasing wife, +Still think you Venus' aid supports the strife- +Sustains her Trojans- or themselves, alone, +With inborn valor force their fortune on? +How fierce in fight, with courage undecay'd! +Judge if such warriors want immortal aid." +To whom the goddess with the charming eyes, +Soft in her tone, submissively replies: +"Why, O my sov'reign lord, whose frown I fear, +And cannot, unconcern'd, your anger bear; +Why urge you thus my grief? when, if I still +(As once I was) were mistress of your will, +From your almighty pow'r your pleasing wife +Might gain the grace of length'ning Turnus' life, +Securely snatch him from the fatal fight, +And give him to his aged father's sight. +Now let him perish, since you hold it good, +And glut the Trojans with his pious blood. +Yet from our lineage he derives his name, +And, in the fourth degree, from god Pilumnus came; +Yet he devoutly pays you rites divine, +And offers daily incense at your shrine." + +Then shortly thus the sov'reign god replied: +"Since in my pow'r and goodness you confide, +If for a little space, a lengthen'd span, +You beg reprieve for this expiring man, +I grant you leave to take your Turnus hence +From instant fate, and can so far dispense. +But, if some secret meaning lies beneath, +To save the short-liv'd youth from destin'd death, +Or if a farther thought you entertain, +To change the fates; you feed your hopes in vain." +To whom the goddess thus, with weeping eyes: +"And what if that request, your tongue denies, +Your heart should grant; and not a short reprieve, +But length of certain life, to Turnus give? +Now speedy death attends the guiltless youth, +If my presaging soul divines with truth; +Which, O! I wish, might err thro' causeless fears, +And you (for you have pow'r) prolong his years!" + +Thus having said, involv'd in clouds, she flies, +And drives a storm before her thro' the skies. +Swift she descends, alighting on the plain, +Where the fierce foes a dubious fight maintain. +Of air condens'd a specter soon she made; +And, what Aeneas was, such seem'd the shade. +Adorn'd with Dardan arms, the phantom bore +His head aloft; a plumy crest he wore; +This hand appear'd a shining sword to wield,. +And that sustain'd an imitated shield. +With manly mien he stalk'd along the ground, +Nor wanted voice belied, nor vaunting sound. +(Thus haunting ghosts appear to waking sight, +Or dreadful visions in our dreams by night.) +The specter seems the Daunian chief to dare, +And flourishes his empty sword in air. +At this, advancing, Turnus hurl'd his spear: +The phantom wheel'd, and seem'd to fly for fear. +Deluded Turnus thought the Trojan fled, +And with vain hopes his haughty fancy fed. +"Whether, O coward?" (thus he calls aloud, +Nor found he spoke to wind, and chas'd a cloud,) +"Why thus forsake your bride! Receive from me +The fated land you sought so long by sea." +He said, and, brandishing at once his blade, +With eager pace pursued the flying shade. +By chance a ship was fasten'd to the shore, +Which from old Clusium King Osinius bore: +The plank was ready laid for safe ascent; +For shelter there the trembling shadow bent, +And skipp't and skulk'd, and under hatches went. +Exulting Turnus, with regardless haste, +Ascends the plank, and to the galley pass'd. +Scarce had he reach'd the prow: Saturnia's hand +The haulsers cuts, and shoots the ship from land. +With wind in poop, the vessel plows the sea, +And measures back with speed her former way. +Meantime Aeneas seeks his absent foe, +And sends his slaughter'd troops to shades below. + +The guileful phantom now forsook the shroud, +And flew sublime, and vanish'd in a cloud. +Too late young Turnus the delusion found, +Far on the sea, still making from the ground. +Then, thankless for a life redeem'd by shame, +With sense of honor stung, and forfeit fame, +Fearful besides of what in fight had pass'd, +His hands and haggard eyes to heav'n he cast; +"O Jove!" he cried, "for what offense have +Deserv'd to bear this endless infamy? +Whence am I forc'd, and whether am I borne? +How, and with what reproach, shall I return? +Shall ever I behold the Latian plain, +Or see Laurentum's lofty tow'rs again? +What will they say of their deserting chief +The war was mine: I fly from their relief; +I led to slaughter, and in slaughter leave; +And ev'n from hence their dying groans receive. +Here, overmatch'd in fight, in heaps they lie; +There, scatter'd o'er the fields, ignobly fly. +Gape wide, O earth, and draw me down alive! +Or, O ye pitying winds, a wretch relieve! +On sands or shelves the splitting vessel drive; +Or set me shipwrack'd on some desart shore, +Where no Rutulian eyes may see me more, +Unknown to friends, or foes, or conscious Fame, +Lest she should follow, and my flight proclaim." + +Thus Turnus rav'd, and various fates revolv'd: +The choice was doubtful, but the death resolv'd. +And now the sword, and now the sea took place, +That to revenge, and this to purge disgrace. +Sometimes he thought to swim the stormy main, +By stretch of arms the distant shore to gain. +Thrice he the sword assay'd, and thrice the flood; +But Juno, mov'd with pity, both withstood. +And thrice repress'd his rage; strong gales supplied, +And push'd the vessel o'er the swelling tide. +At length she lands him on his native shores, +And to his father's longing arms restores. + +Meantime, by Jove's impulse, Mezentius arm'd, +Succeeding Turnus, with his ardor warm'd +His fainting friends, reproach'd their shameful flight, +Repell'd the victors, and renew'd the fight. +Against their king the Tuscan troops conspire; +Such is their hate, and such their fierce desire +Of wish'd revenge: on him, and him alone, +All hands employ'd, and all their darts are thrown. +He, like a solid rock by seas inclos'd, +To raging winds and roaring waves oppos'd, +From his proud summit looking down, disdains +Their empty menace, and unmov'd remains. + +Beneath his feet fell haughty Hebrus dead, +Then Latagus, and Palmus as he fled. +At Latagus a weighty stone he flung: +His face was flatted, and his helmet rung. +But Palmus from behind receives his wound; +Hamstring'd he falls, and grovels on the ground: +His crest and armor, from his body torn, +Thy shoulders, Lausus, and thy head adorn. +Evas and Mimas, both of Troy, he slew. +Mimas his birth from fair Theano drew, +Born on that fatal night, when, big with fire, +The queen produc'd young Paris to his sire: +But Paris in the Phrygian fields was slain, +Unthinking Mimas on the Latian plain. + +And, as a savage boar, on mountains bred, +With forest mast and fatt'ning marshes fed, +When once he sees himself in toils inclos'd, +By huntsmen and their eager hounds oppos'd- +He whets his tusks, and turns, and dares the war; +Th' invaders dart their jav'lins from afar: +All keep aloof, and safely shout around; +But none presumes to give a nearer wound: +He frets and froths, erects his bristled hide, +And shakes a grove of lances from his side: +Not otherwise the troops, with hate inspir'd, +And just revenge against the tyrant fir'd, +Their darts with clamor at a distance drive, +And only keep the languish'd war alive. + +From Coritus came Acron to the fight, +Who left his spouse betroth'd, and unconsummate night. +Mezentius sees him thro' the squadrons ride, +Proud of the purple favors of his bride. +Then, as a hungry lion, who beholds +A gamesome goat, who frisks about the folds, +Or beamy stag, that grazes on the plain- +He runs, he roars, he shakes his rising mane, +He grins, and opens wide his greedy jaws; +The prey lies panting underneath his paws: +He fills his famish'd maw; his mouth runs o'er +With unchew'd morsels, while he churns the gore: +So proud Mezentius rushes on his foes, +And first unhappy Acron overthrows: +Stretch'd at his length, he spurns the swarthy ground; +The lance, besmear'd with blood, lies broken in the wound. +Then with disdain the haughty victor view'd +Orodes flying, nor the wretch pursued, +Nor thought the dastard's back deserv'd a wound, +But, running, gain'd th' advantage of the ground: +Then turning short, he met him face to face, +To give his victor the better grace. +Orodes falls, equal fight oppress'd: +Mezentius fix'd his foot upon his breast, +And rested lance; and thus aloud he cries: +"Lo! here the champion of my rebels lies!" +The fields around with Io Paean! ring; +And peals of shouts applaud the conqu'ring king. +At this the vanquish'd, with his dying breath, +Thus faintly spoke, and prophesied in death: +"Nor thou, proud man, unpunish'd shalt remain: +Like death attends thee on this fatal plain." +Then, sourly smiling, thus the king replied: +"For what belongs to me, let Jove provide; +But die thou first, whatever chance ensue." +He said, and from the wound the weapon drew. +A hov'ring mist came swimming o'er his sight, +And seal'd his eyes in everlasting night. + +By Caedicus, Alcathous was slain; +Sacrator laid Hydaspes on the plain; +Orses the strong to greater strength must yield; +He, with Parthenius, were by Rapo kill'd. +Then brave Messapus Ericetes slew, +Who from Lycaon's blood his lineage drew. +But from his headstrong horse his fate he found, +Who threw his master, as he made a bound: +The chief, alighting, stuck him to the ground; +Then Clonius, hand to hand, on foot assails: +The Trojan sinks, and Neptune's son prevails. +Agis the Lycian, stepping forth with pride, +To single fight the boldest foe defied; +Whom Tuscan Valerus by force o'ercame, +And not belied his mighty father's fame. +Salius to death the great Antronius sent: +But the same fate the victor underwent, +Slain by Nealces' hand, well-skill'd to throw +The flying dart, and draw the far-deceiving bow. + +Thus equal deaths are dealt with equal chance; +By turns they quit their ground, by turns advance: +Victors and vanquish'd, in the various field, +Nor wholly overcome, nor wholly yield. +The gods from heav'n survey the fatal strife, +And mourn the miseries of human life. +Above the rest, two goddesses appear +Concern'd for each: here Venus, Juno there. +Amidst the crowd, infernal Ate shakes +Her scourge aloft, and crest of hissing snakes. + +Once more the proud Mezentius, with disdain, +Brandish'd his spear, and rush'd into the plain, +Where tow'ring in the midmost rank she stood, +Like tall Orion stalking o'er the flood. +(When with his brawny breast he cuts the waves, +His shoulders scarce the topmost billow laves), +Or like a mountain ash, whose roots are spread, +Deep fix'd in earth; in clouds he hides his head. + +The Trojan prince beheld him from afar, +And dauntless undertook the doubtful war. +Collected in his strength, and like a rock, +Pois'd on his base, Mezentius stood the shock. +He stood, and, measuring first with careful eyes +The space his spear could reach, aloud he cries: +"My strong right hand, and sword, assist my stroke! +(Those only gods Mezentius will invoke.) +His armor, from the Trojan pirate torn, +By my triumphant Lausus shall be worn." +He said; and with his utmost force he threw +The massy spear, which, hissing as it flew, +Reach'd the celestial shield, that stopp'd the course; +But, glancing thence, the yet unbroken force +Took a new bent obliquely, and betwixt +The side and bowels fam'd Anthores fix'd. +Anthores had from Argos travel'd far, +Alcides' friend, and brother of the war; +Till, tir'd with toils, fair Italy he chose, +And in Evander's palace sought repose. +Now, falling by another's wound, his eyes +He cast to heav'n, on Argos thinks, and dies. + +The pious Trojan then his jav'lin sent; +The shield gave way; thro' treble plates it went +Of solid brass, of linen trebly roll'd, +And three bull hides which round the buckler fold. +All these it pass'd, resistless in the course, +Transpierc'd his thigh, and spent its dying force. +The gaping wound gush'd out a crimson flood. +The Trojan, glad with sight of hostile blood, +His faunchion drew, to closer fight address'd, +And with new force his fainting foe oppress'd. + +His father's peril Lausus view'd with grief; +He sigh'd, he wept, he ran to his relief. +And here, heroic youth, 't is here I must +To thy immortal memory be just, +And sing an act so noble and so new, +Posterity will scarce believe 't is true. +Pain'd with his wound, and useless for the fight, +The father sought to save himself by flight: +Incumber'd, slow he dragg'd the spear along, +Which pierc'd his thigh, and in his buckler hung. +The pious youth, resolv'd on death, below +The lifted sword springs forth to face the foe; +Protects his parent, and prevents the blow. +Shouts of applause ran ringing thro' the field, +To see the son the vanquish'd father shield. +All, fir'd with gen'rous indignation, strive, +And with a storm of darts to distance drive +The Trojan chief, who, held at bay from far, +On his Vulcanian orb sustain'd the war. + +As, when thick hail comes rattling in the wind, +The plowman, passenger, and lab'ring hind +For shelter to the neighb'ring covert fly, +Or hous'd, or safe in hollow caverns lie; +But, that o'erblown, when heav'n above 'em smiles, +Return to travel, and renew their toils: +Aeneas thus, o'erwhelmed on ev'ry side, +The storm of darts, undaunted, did abide; +And thus to Lausus loud with friendly threat'ning cried: +"Why wilt thou rush to certain death, and rage +In rash attempts, beyond thy tender age, +Betray'd by pious love?" Nor, thus forborne, +The youth desists, but with insulting scorn +Provokes the ling'ring prince, whose patience, tir'd, +Gave place; and all his breast with fury fir'd. +For now the Fates prepar'd their sharpen'd shears; +And lifted high the flaming sword appears, +Which, full descending with a frightful sway, +Thro' shield and corslet forc'd th' impetuous way, +And buried deep in his fair bosom lay. +The purple streams thro' the thin armor strove, +And drench'd th' imbroider'd coat his mother wove; +And life at length forsook his heaving heart, +Loth from so sweet a mansion to depart. + +But when, with blood and paleness all o'erspread, +The pious prince beheld young Lausus dead, +He griev'd; he wept; the sight an image brought +Of his own filial love, a sadly pleasing thought: +Then stretch'd his hand to hold him up, and said: +"Poor hapless youth! what praises can be paid +To love so great, to such transcendent store +Of early worth, and sure presage of more? +Accept whate'er Aeneas can afford; +Untouch'd thy arms, untaken be thy sword; +And all that pleas'd thee living, still remain +Inviolate, and sacred to the slain. +Thy body on thy parents I bestow, +To rest thy soul, at least, if shadows know, +Or have a sense of human things below. +There to thy fellow ghosts with glory tell: +''T was by the great Aeneas hand I fell.'" +With this, his distant friends he beckons near, +Provokes their duty, and prevents their fear: +Himself assists to lift him from the ground, +With clotted locks, and blood that well'd from out the wound. + +Meantime, his father, now no father, stood, +And wash'd his wounds by Tiber's yellow flood: +Oppress'd with anguish, panting, and o'erspent, +His fainting limbs against an oak he leant. +A bough his brazen helmet did sustain; +His heavier arms lay scatter'd on the plain: +A chosen train of youth around him stand; +His drooping head was rested on his hand: +His grisly beard his pensive bosom sought; +And all on Lausus ran his restless thought. +Careful, concern'd his danger to prevent, +He much enquir'd, and many a message sent +To warn him from the field- alas! in vain! +Behold, his mournful followers bear him slain! +O'er his broad shield still gush'd the yawning wound, +And drew a bloody trail along the ground. +Far off he heard their cries, far off divin'd +The dire event, with a foreboding mind. +With dust he sprinkled first his hoary head; +Then both his lifted hands to heav'n he spread; +Last, the dear corpse embracing, thus he said: +"What joys, alas! could this frail being give, +That I have been so covetous to live? +To see my son, and such a son, resign +His life, a ransom for preserving mine! +And am I then preserv'd, and art thou lost? +How much too dear has that redemption cost! +'T is now my bitter banishment I feel: +This is a wound too deep for time to heal. +My guilt thy growing virtues did defame; +My blackness blotted thy unblemish'd name. +Chas'd from a throne, abandon'd, and exil'd +For foul misdeeds, were punishments too mild: +I ow'd my people these, and, from their hate, +With less resentment could have borne my fate. +And yet I live, and yet sustain the sight +Of hated men, and of more hated light: +But will not long." With that he rais'd from ground +His fainting limbs, that stagger'd with his wound; +Yet, with a mind resolv'd, and unappall'd +With pains or perils, for his courser call'd +Well-mouth'd, well-manag'd, whom himself did dress +With daily care, and mounted with success; +His aid in arms, his ornament in peace. + +Soothing his courage with a gentle stroke, +The steed seem'd sensible, while thus he spoke: +"O Rhoebus, we have liv'd too long for me- +If life and long were terms that could agree! +This day thou either shalt bring back the head +And bloody trophies of the Trojan dead; +This day thou either shalt revenge my woe, +For murther'd Lausus, on his cruel foe; +Or, if inexorable fate deny +Our conquest, with thy conquer'd master die: +For, after such a lord, rest secure, +Thou wilt no foreign reins, or Trojan load endure." +He said; and straight th' officious courser kneels, +To take his wonted weight. His hands he fills +With pointed jav'lins; on his head he lac'd +His glitt'ring helm, which terribly was grac'd +With waving horsehair, nodding from afar; +Then spurr'd his thund'ring steed amidst the war. +Love, anguish, wrath, and grief, to madness wrought, +Despair, and secret shame, and conscious thought +Of inborn worth, his lab'ring soul oppress'd, +Roll'd in his eyes, and rag'd within his breast. +Then loud he call'd Aeneas thrice by name: +The loud repeated voice to glad Aeneas came. +"Great Jove," he said, "and the far-shooting god, +Inspire thy mind to make thy challenge good!" +He spoke no more; but hasten'd, void of fear, +And threaten'd with his long protended spear. + +To whom Mezentius thus: "Thy vaunts are vain. +My Lausus lies extended on the plain: +He's lost! thy conquest is already won; +The wretched sire is murther'd in the son. +Nor fate I fear, but all the gods defy. +Forbear thy threats: my bus'ness is to die; +But first receive this parting legacy." +He said; and straight a whirling dart he sent; +Another after, and another went. +Round in a spacious ring he rides the field, +And vainly plies th' impenetrable shield. +Thrice rode he round; and thrice Aeneas wheel'd, +Turn'd as he turn'd: the golden orb withstood +The strokes, and bore about an iron wood. +Impatient of delay, and weary grown, +Still to defend, and to defend alone, +To wrench the darts which in his buckler light, +Urg'd and o'er-labor'd in unequal fight; +At length resolv'd, he throws with all his force +Full at the temples of the warrior horse. +Just where the stroke was aim'd, th' unerring spear +Made way, and stood transfix'd thro' either ear. +Seiz'd with unwonted pain, surpris'd with fright, +The wounded steed curvets, and, rais'd upright, +Lights on his feet before; his hoofs behind +Spring up in air aloft, and lash the wind. +Down comes the rider headlong from his height: +His horse came after with unwieldy weight, +And, flound'ring forward, pitching on his head, +His lord's incumber'd shoulder overlaid. + +From either host, the mingled shouts and cries +Of Trojans and Rutulians rend the skies. +Aeneas, hast'ning, wav'd his fatal sword +High o'er his head, with this reproachful word: +"Now; where are now thy vaunts, the fierce disdain +Of proud Mezentius, and the lofty strain?" + +Struggling, and wildly staring on the skies, +With scarce recover'd sight he thus replies: +"Why these insulting words, this waste of breath, +To souls undaunted, and secure of death? +'T is no dishonor for the brave to die, +Nor came I here with hope victory; +Nor ask I life, nor fought with that design: +As I had us'd my fortune, use thou thine. +My dying son contracted no such band; +The gift is hateful from his murd'rer's hand. +For this, this only favor let me sue, +If pity can to conquer'd foes be due: +Refuse it not; but let my body have +The last retreat of humankind, a grave. +Too well I know th' insulting people's hate; +Protect me from their vengeance after fate: +This refuge for my poor remains provide, +And lay my much-lov'd Lausus by my side." +He said, and to the sword his throat applied. +The crimson stream distain'd his arms around, +And the disdainful soul came rushing thro' the wound. +BOOK XI + +Scarce had the rosy Morning rais'd her head +Above the waves, and left her wat'ry bed; +The pious chief, whom double cares attend +For his unburied soldiers and his friend, +Yet first to Heav'n perform'd a victor's vows: +He bar'd an ancient oak of all her boughs; +Then on a rising ground the trunk he plac'd, +Which with the spoils of his dead foe he grac'd. +The coat of arms by proud Mezentius worn, +Now on a naked snag in triumph borne, +Was hung on high, and glitter'd from afar, +A trophy sacred to the God of War. +Above his arms, fix'd on the leafless wood, +Appear'd his plumy crest, besmear'd with blood: +His brazen buckler on the left was seen; +Truncheons of shiver'd lances hung between; +And on the right was placed his corslet, bor'd; +And to the neck was tied his unavailing sword. + +A crowd of chiefs inclose the godlike man, +Who thus, conspicuous in the midst, began: +"Our toils, my friends, are crown'd with sure success; +The greater part perform'd, achieve the less. +Now follow cheerful to the trembling town; +Press but an entrance, and presume it won. +Fear is no more, for fierce Mezentius lies, +As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice. +Turnus shall fall extended on the plain, +And, in this omen, is already slain. +Prepar'd in arms, pursue your happy chance; +That none unwarn'd may plead his ignorance, +And I, at Heav'n's appointed hour, may find +Your warlike ensigns waving in the wind. +Meantime the rites and fun'ral pomps prepare, +Due to your dead companions of the war: +The last respect the living can bestow, +To shield their shadows from contempt below. +That conquer'd earth be theirs, for which they fought, +And which for us with their own blood they bought; +But first the corpse of our unhappy friend +To the sad city of Evander send, +Who, not inglorious, in his age's bloom, +Was hurried hence by too severe a doom." + +Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way, +Where, new in death, lamented Pallas lay. +Acoetes watch'd the corpse; whose youth deserv'd +The father's trust; and now the son he serv'd +With equal faith, but less auspicious care. +Th' attendants of the slain his sorrow share. +A troop of Trojans mix'd with these appear, +And mourning matrons with dishevel'd hair. +Soon as the prince appears, they raise a cry; +All beat their breasts, and echoes rend the sky. +They rear his drooping forehead from the ground; +But, when Aeneas view'd the grisly wound +Which Pallas in his manly bosom bore, +And the fair flesh distain'd with purple gore; +First, melting into tears, the pious man +Deplor'd so sad a sight, then thus began: +"Unhappy youth! when Fortune gave the rest +Of my full wishes, she refus'd the best! +She came; but brought not thee along, to bless +My longing eyes, and share in my success: +She grudg'd thy safe return, the triumphs due +To prosp'rous valor, in the public view. +Not thus I promis'd, when thy father lent +Thy needless succor with a sad consent; +Embrac'd me, parting for th' Etrurian land, +And sent me to possess a large command. +He warn'd, and from his own experience told, +Our foes were warlike, disciplin'd, and bold. +And now perhaps, in hopes of thy return, +Rich odors on his loaded altars burn, +While we, with vain officious pomp, prepare +To send him back his portion of the war, +A bloody breathless body, which can owe +No farther debt, but to the pow'rs below. +The wretched father, ere his race is run, +Shall view the fun'ral honors of his son. +These are my triumphs of the Latian war, +Fruits of my plighted faith and boasted care! +And yet, unhappy sire, thou shalt not see +A son whose death disgrac'd his ancestry; +Thou shalt not blush, old man, however griev'd: +Thy Pallas no dishonest wound receiv'd. +He died no death to make thee wish, too late, +Thou hadst not liv'd to see his shameful fate: +But what a champion has th' Ausonian coast, +And what a friend hast thou, Ascanius, lost!" + +Thus having mourn'd, he gave the word around, +To raise the breathless body from the ground; +And chose a thousand horse, the flow'r of all +His warlike troops, to wait the funeral, +To bear him back and share Evander's grief: +A well-becoming, but a weak relief. +Of oaken twigs they twist an easy bier, +Then on their shoulders the sad burden rear. +The body on this rural hearse is borne: +Strew'd leaves and funeral greens the bier adorn. +All pale he lies, and looks a lovely flow'r, +New cropp'd by virgin hands, to dress the bow'r: +Unfaded yet, but yet unfed below, +No more to mother earth or the green stern shall owe. +Then two fair vests, of wondrous work and cost, +Of purple woven, and with gold emboss'd, +For ornament the Trojan hero brought, +Which with her hands Sidonian Dido wrought. +One vest array'd the corpse; and one they spread +O'er his clos'd eyes, and wrapp'd around his head, +That, when the yellow hair in flame should fall, +The catching fire might burn the golden caul. +Besides, the spoils of foes in battle slain, +When he descended on the Latian plain; +Arms, trappings, horses, by the hearse are led +In long array- th' achievements of the dead. +Then, pinion'd with their hands behind, appear +Th' unhappy captives, marching in the rear, +Appointed off'rings in the victor's name, +To sprinkle with their blood the fun'ral flame. +Inferior trophies by the chiefs are borne; +Gauntlets and helms their loaded hands adorn; +And fair inscriptions fix'd, and titles read +Of Latian leaders conquer'd by the dead. + +Acoetes on his pupil's corpse attends, +With feeble steps, supported by his friends. +Pausing at ev'ry pace, in sorrow drown'd, +Betwixt their arms he sinks upon the ground; +Where grov'ling while he lies in deep despair, +He beats his breast, and rends his hoary hair. +The champion's chariot next is seen to roll, +Besmear'd with hostile blood, and honorably foul. +To close the pomp, Aethon, the steed of state, +Is led, the fun'rals of his lord to wait. +Stripp'd of his trappings, with a sullen pace +He walks; and the big tears run rolling down his face. +The lance of Pallas, and the crimson crest, +Are borne behind: the victor seiz'd the rest. +The march begins: the trumpets hoarsely sound; +The pikes and lances trail along the ground. +Thus while the Trojan and Arcadian horse +To Pallantean tow'rs direct their course, +In long procession rank'd, the pious chief +Stopp'd in the rear, and gave a vent to grief: +"The public care," he said, "which war attends, +Diverts our present woes, at least suspends. +Peace with the manes of great Pallas dwell! +Hail, holy relics! and a last farewell!" +He said no more, but, inly thro' he mourn'd, +Restrained his tears, and to the camp return'd. + +Now suppliants, from Laurentum sent, demand +A truce, with olive branches in their hand; +Obtest his clemency, and from the plain +Beg leave to draw the bodies of their slain. +They plead, that none those common rites deny +To conquer'd foes that in fair battle die. +All cause of hate was ended in their death; +Nor could he war with bodies void of breath. +A king, they hop'd, would hear a king's request, +Whose son he once was call'd, and once his guest. + +Their suit, which was too just to be denied, +The hero grants, and farther thus replied: +"O Latian princes, how severe a fate +In causeless quarrels has involv'd your state, +And arm'd against an unoffending man, +Who sought your friendship ere the war began! +You beg a truce, which I would gladly give, +Not only for the slain, but those who live. +I came not hither but by Heav'n's command, +And sent by fate to share the Latian land. +Nor wage I wars unjust: your king denied +My proffer'd friendship, and my promis'd bride; +Left me for Turnus. Turnus then should try +His cause in arms, to conquer or to die. +My right and his are in dispute: the slain +Fell without fault, our quarrel to maintain. +In equal arms let us alone contend; +And let him vanquish, whom his fates befriend. +This is the way (so tell him) to possess +The royal virgin, and restore the peace. +Bear this message back, with ample leave, +That your slain friends may fun'ral rites receive." + +Thus having said- th' embassadors, amaz'd, +Stood mute a while, and on each other gaz'd. +Drances, their chief, who harbor'd in his breast +Long hate to Turnus, as his foe profess'd, +Broke silence first, and to the godlike man, +With graceful action bowing, thus began: +"Auspicious prince, in arms a mighty name, +But yet whose actions far transcend your fame; +Would I your justice or your force express, +Thought can but equal; and all words are less. +Your answer we shall thankfully relate, +And favors granted to the Latian state. +If wish'd success our labor shall attend, +Think peace concluded, and the king your friend: +Let Turnus leave the realm to your command, +And seek alliance in some other land: +Build you the city which your fates assign; +We shall be proud in the great work to join." + +Thus Drances; and his words so well persuade +The rest impower'd, that soon a truce is made. +Twelve days the term allow'd: and, during those, +Latians and Trojans, now no longer foes, +Mix'd in the woods, for fun'ral piles prepare +To fell the timber, and forget the war. +Loud axes thro' the groaning groves resound; +Oak, mountain ash, and poplar spread the ground; +First fall from high; and some the trunks receive +In loaden wains; with wedges some they cleave. + +And now the fatal news by Fame is blown +Thro' the short circuit of th' Arcadian town, +Of Pallas slain- by Fame, which just before +His triumphs on distended pinions bore. +Rushing from out the gate, the people stand, +Each with a fun'ral flambeau in his hand. +Wildly they stare, distracted with amaze: +The fields are lighten'd with a fiery blaze, +That cast a sullen splendor on their friends, +The marching troop which their dead prince attends. +Both parties meet: they raise a doleful cry; +The matrons from the walls with shrieks reply, +And their mix'd mourning rends the vaulted sky. +The town is fill'd with tumult and with tears, +Till the loud clamors reach Evander's ears: +Forgetful of his state, he runs along, +With a disorder'd pace, and cleaves the throng; +Falls on the corpse; and groaning there he lies, +With silent grief, that speaks but at his eyes. +Short sighs and sobs succeed; till sorrow breaks +A passage, and at once he weeps and speaks: + +"O Pallas! thou hast fail'd thy plighted word, +To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword! +I warn'd thee, but in vain; for well I knew +What perils youthful ardor would pursue, +That boiling blood would carry thee too far, +Young as thou wert in dangers, raw to war! +O curst essay of arms, disastrous doom, +Prelude of bloody fields, and fights to come! +Hard elements of unauspicious war, +Vain vows to Heav'n, and unavailing care! +Thrice happy thou, dear partner of my bed, +Whose holy soul the stroke of Fortune fled, +Praescious of ills, and leaving me behind, +To drink the dregs of life by fate assign'd! +Beyond the goal of nature I have gone: +My Pallas late set out, but reach'd too soon. +If, for my league against th' Ausonian state, +Amidst their weapons I had found my fate, +(Deserv'd from them,) then I had been return'd +A breathless victor, and my son had mourn'd. +Yet will I not my Trojan friend upbraid, +Nor grudge th' alliance I so gladly made. +'T was not his fault, my Pallas fell so young, +But my own crime, for having liv'd too long. +Yet, since the gods had destin'd him to die, +At least he led the way to victory: +First for his friends he won the fatal shore, +And sent whole herds of slaughter'd foes before; +A death too great, too glorious to deplore. +Nor will I add new honors to thy grave, +Content with those the Trojan hero gave: +That funeral pomp thy Phrygian friends design'd, +In which the Tuscan chiefs and army join'd. +Great spoils and trophies, gain'd by thee, they bear: +Then let thy own achievements be thy share. +Even thou, O Turnus, hadst a trophy stood, +Whose mighty trunk had better grac'd the wood, +If Pallas had arriv'd, with equal length +Of years, to match thy bulk with equal strength. +But why, unhappy man, dost thou detain +These troops, to view the tears thou shedd'st in vain? +Go, friends, this message to your lord relate: +Tell him, that, if I bear my bitter fate, +And, after Pallas' death, live ling'ring on, +'T is to behold his vengeance for my son. +I stay for Turnus, whose devoted head +Is owing to the living and the dead. +My son and I expect it from his hand; +'T is all that he can give, or we demand. +Joy is no more; but I would gladly go, +To greet my Pallas with such news below." + +The morn had now dispell'd the shades of night, +Restoring toils, when she restor'd the light. +The Trojan king and Tuscan chief command +To raise the piles along the winding strand. +Their friends convey the dead fun'ral fires; +Black smold'ring smoke from the green wood expires; +The light of heav'n is chok'd, and the new day retires. +Then thrice around the kindled piles they go +(For ancient custom had ordain'd it so) +Thrice horse and foot about the fires are led; +And thrice, with loud laments, they hail the dead. +Tears, trickling down their breasts, bedew the ground, +And drums and trumpets mix their mournful sound. +Amid the blaze, their pious brethren throw +The spoils, in battle taken from the foe: +Helms, bits emboss'd, and swords of shining steel; +One casts a target, one a chariot wheel; +Some to their fellows their own arms restore: +The fauchions which in luckless fight they bore, +Their bucklers pierc'd, their darts bestow'd in vain, +And shiver'd lances gather'd from the plain. +Whole herds of offer'd bulls, about the fire, +And bristled boars, and woolly sheep expire. +Around the piles a careful troop attends, +To watch the wasting flames, and weep their burning friends; +Ling'ring along the shore, till dewy night +New decks the face of heav'n with starry light. + +The conquer'd Latians, with like pious care, +Piles without number for their dead prepare. +Part in the places where they fell are laid; +And part are to the neighb'ring fields convey'd. +The corps of kings, and captains of renown, +Borne off in state, are buried in the town; +The rest, unhonor'd, and without a name, +Are cast a common heap to feed the flame. +Trojans and Latians vie with like desires +To make the field of battle shine with fires, +And the promiscuous blaze to heav'n aspires. + +Now had the morning thrice renew'd the light, +And thrice dispell'd the shadows of the night, +When those who round the wasted fires remain, +Perform the last sad office to the slain. +They rake the yet warm ashes from below; +These, and the bones unburn'd, in earth bestow; +These relics with their country rites they grace, +And raise a mount of turf to mark the place. + +But, in the palace of the king, appears +A scene more solemn, and a pomp of tears. +Maids, matrons, widows, mix their common moans; +Orphans their sires, and sires lament their sons. +All in that universal sorrow share, +And curse the cause of this unhappy war: +A broken league, a bride unjustly sought, +A crown usurp'd, which with their blood is bought! +These are the crimes with which they load the name +Of Turnus, and on him alone exclaim: +"Let him who lords it o'er th' Ausonian land +Engage the Trojan hero hand to hand: +His is the gain; our lot is but to serve; +'T is just, the sway he seeks, he should deserve." +This Drances aggravates; and adds, with spite: +"His foe expects, and dares him to the fight." +Nor Turnus wants a party, to support +His cause and credit in the Latian court. +His former acts secure his present fame, +And the queen shades him with her mighty name. + +While thus their factious minds with fury burn, +The legates from th' Aetolian prince return: +Sad news they bring, that, after all the cost +And care employ'd, their embassy is lost; +That Diomedes refus'd his aid in war, +Unmov'd with presents, and as deaf to pray'r. +Some new alliance must elsewhere be sought, +Or peace with Troy on hard conditions bought. + +Latinus, sunk in sorrow, finds too late, +A foreign son is pointed out by fate; +And, till Aeneas shall Lavinia wed, +The wrath of Heav'n is hov'ring o'er his head. +The gods, he saw, espous'd the juster side, +When late their titles in the field were tried: +Witness the fresh laments, and fun'ral tears undried. +Thus, full of anxious thought, he summons all +The Latian senate to the council hall. +The princes come, commanded by their head, +And crowd the paths that to the palace lead. +Supreme in pow'r, and reverenc'd for his years, +He takes the throne, and in the midst appears. +Majestically sad, he sits in state, +And bids his envoys their success relate. + +When Venulus began, the murmuring sound +Was hush'd, and sacred silence reign'd around. +"We have," said he, "perform'd your high command, +And pass'd with peril a long tract of land: +We reach'd the place desir'd; with wonder fill'd, +The Grecian tents and rising tow'rs beheld. +Great Diomede has compass'd round with walls +The city, which Argyripa he calls, +From his own Argos nam'd. We touch'd, with joy, +The royal hand that raz'd unhappy Troy. +When introduc'd, our presents first we bring, +Then crave an instant audience from the king. +His leave obtain'd, our native soil we name, +And tell th' important cause for which we came. +Attentively he heard us, while we spoke; +Then, with soft accents, and a pleasing look, +Made this return: 'Ausonian race, of old +Renown'd for peace, and for an age of gold, +What madness has your alter'd minds possess'd, +To change for war hereditary rest, +Solicit arms unknown, and tempt the sword, +A needless ill your ancestors abhorr'd? +We- for myself I speak, and all the name +Of Grecians, who to Troy's destruction came, +Omitting those who were in battle slain, +Or borne by rolling Simois to the main- +Not one but suffer'd, and too dearly bought +The prize of honor which in arms he sought; +Some doom'd to death, and some in exile driv'n. +Outcasts, abandon'd by the care of Heav'n; +So worn, so wretched, so despis'd a crew, +As ev'n old Priam might with pity view. +Witness the vessels by Minerva toss'd +In storms; the vengeful Capharean coast; +Th' Euboean rocks! the prince, whose brother led +Our armies to revenge his injur'd bed, +In Egypt lost! Ulysses with his men +Have seen Charybdis and the Cyclops' den. +Why should I name Idomeneus, in vain +Restor'd to scepters, and expell'd again? +Or young Achilles, by his rival slain? +Ev'n he, the King of Men, the foremost name +Of all the Greeks, and most renown'd by fame, +The proud revenger of another's wife, +Yet by his own adult'ress lost his life; +Fell at his threshold; and the spoils of Troy +The foul polluters of his bed enjoy. +The gods have envied me the sweets of life, +My much lov'd country, and my more lov'd wife: +Banish'd from both, I mourn; while in the sky, +Transform'd to birds, my lost companions fly: +Hov'ring about the coasts, they make their moan, +And cuff the cliffs with pinions not their own. +What squalid specters, in the dead of night, +Break my short sleep, and skim before my sight! +I might have promis'd to myself those harms, +Mad as I was, when I, with mortal arms, +Presum'd against immortal pow'rs to move, +And violate with wounds the Queen of Love. +Such arms this hand shall never more employ; +No hate remains with me to ruin'd Troy. +I war not with its dust; nor am I glad +To think of past events, or good or bad. +Your presents I return: whate'er you bring +To buy my friendship, send the Trojan king. +We met in fight; I know him, to my cost: +With what a whirling force his lance he toss'd! +Heav'ns! what a spring was in his arm, to throw! +How high he held his shield, and rose at ev'ry blow! +Had Troy produc'd two more his match in might, +They would have chang'd the fortune of the fight: +Th' invasion of the Greeks had been return'd, +Our empire wasted, and our cities burn'd. +The long defense the Trojan people made, +The war protracted, and the siege delay'd, +Were due to Hector's and this hero's hand: +Both brave alike, and equal in command; +Aeneas, not inferior in the field, +In pious reverence to the gods excell'd. +Make peace, ye Latians, and avoid with care +Th' impending dangers of a fatal war.' +He said no more; but, with this cold excuse, +Refus'd th' alliance, and advis'd a truce." + +Thus Venulus concluded his report. +A jarring murmur fill'd the factious court: +As, when a torrent rolls with rapid force, +And dashes o'er the stones that stop the course, +The flood, constrain'd within a scanty space, +Roars horrible along th' uneasy race; +White foam in gath'ring eddies floats around; +The rocky shores rebellow to the sound. + +The murmur ceas'd: then from his lofty throne +The king invok'd the gods, and thus begun: +"I wish, ye Latins, what we now debate +Had been resolv'd before it was too late. +Much better had it been for you and me, +Unforc'd by this our last necessity, +To have been earlier wise, than now to call +A council, when the foe surrounds the wall. +O citizens, we wage unequal war, +With men not only Heav'n's peculiar care, +But Heav'n's own race; unconquer'd in the field, +Or, conquer'd, yet unknowing how to yield. +What hopes you had in Diomedes, lay down: +Our hopes must center on ourselves alone. +Yet those how feeble, and, indeed, how vain, +You see too well; nor need my words explain. +Vanquish'd without resource; laid flat by fate; +Factions within, a foe without the gate! +Not but I grant that all perform'd their parts +With manly force, and with undaunted hearts: +With our united strength the war we wag'd; +With equal numbers, equal arms, engag'd. +You see th' event.- Now hear what I propose, +To save our friends, and satisfy our foes. +A tract of land the Latins have possess'd +Along the Tiber, stretching to the west, +Which now Rutulians and Auruncans till, +And their mix'd cattle graze the fruitful hill. +Those mountains fill'd with firs, that lower land, +If you consent, the Trojan shall command, +Call'd into part of what is ours; and there, +On terms agreed, the common country share. +There let'em build and settle, if they please; +Unless they choose once more to cross the seas, +In search of seats remote from Italy, +And from unwelcome inmates set us free. +Then twice ten galleys let us build with speed, +Or twice as many more, if more they need. +Materials are at hand; a well-grown wood +Runs equal with the margin of the flood: +Let them the number and the form assign; +The care and cost of all the stores be mine. +To treat the peace, a hundred senators +Shall be commission'd hence with ample pow'rs, +With olive the presents they shall bear, +A purple robe, a royal iv'ry chair, +And all the marks of sway that Latian monarchs wear, +And sums of gold. Among yourselves debate +This great affair, and save the sinking state." + +Then Drances took the word, who grudg'd, long since, +The rising glories of the Daunian prince. +Factious and rich, bold at the council board, +But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword; +A close caballer, and tongue-valiant lord. +Noble his mother was, and near the throne; +But, what his father's parentage, unknown. +He rose, and took th' advantage of the times, +To load young Turnus with invidious crimes. +"Such truths, O king," said he, "your words contain, +As strike the sense, and all replies are vain; +Nor are your loyal subjects now to seek +What common needs require, but fear to speak. +Let him give leave of speech, that haughty man, +Whose pride this unauspicious war began; +For whose ambition (let me dare to say, +Fear set apart, tho' death is in my way) +The plains of Latium run with blood around. +So many valiant heroes bite the ground; +Dejected grief in ev'ry face appears; +A town in mourning, and a land in tears; +While he, th' undoubted author of our harms, +The man who menaces the gods with arms, +Yet, after all his boasts, forsook the fight, +And sought his safety in ignoble flight. +Now, best of kings, since you propose to send +Such bounteous presents to your Trojan friend; +Add yet a greater at our joint request, +One which he values more than all the rest: +Give him the fair Lavinia for his bride; +With that alliance let the league be tied, +And for the bleeding land a lasting peace provide. +Let insolence no longer awe the throne; +But, with a father's right, bestow your own. +For this maligner of the general good, +If still we fear his force, he must be woo'd; +His haughty godhead we with pray'rs implore, +Your scepter to release, and our just rights restore. +O cursed cause of all our ills, must we +Wage wars unjust, and fall in fight, for thee! +What right hast thou to rule the Latian state, +And send us out to meet our certain fate? +'T is a destructive war: from Turnus' hand +Our peace and public safety we demand. +Let the fair bride to the brave chief remain; +If not, the peace, without the pledge, is vain. +Turnus, I know you think me not your friend, +Nor will I much with your belief contend: +I beg your greatness not to give the law +In others' realms, but, beaten, to withdraw. +Pity your own, or pity our estate; +Nor twist our fortunes with your sinking fate. +Your interest is, the war should never cease; +But we have felt enough to wish the peace: +A land exhausted to the last remains, +Depopulated towns, and driven plains. +Yet, if desire of fame, and thirst of pow'r, +A beauteous princess, with a crown in dow'r, +So fire your mind, in arms assert your right, +And meet your foe, who dares you to the fight. +Mankind, it seems, is made for you alone; +We, but the slaves who mount you to the throne: +A base ignoble crowd, without a name, +Unwept, unworthy, of the fun'ral flame, +By duty bound to forfeit each his life, +That Turnus may possess a royal wife. +Permit not, mighty man, so mean a crew +Should share such triumphs, and detain from you +The post of honor, your undoubted due. +Rather alone your matchless force employ, +To merit what alone you must enjoy." + +These words, so full of malice mix'd with art, +Inflam'd with rage the youthful hero's heart. +Then, groaning from the bottom of his breast, +He heav'd for wind, and thus his wrath express'd: +"You, Drances, never want a stream of words, +Then, when the public need requires our swords. +First in the council hall to steer the state, +And ever foremost in a tongue-debate, +While our strong walls secure us from the foe, +Ere yet with blood our ditches overflow: +But let the potent orator declaim, +And with the brand of coward blot my name; +Free leave is giv'n him, when his fatal hand +Has cover'd with more corps the sanguine strand, +And high as mine his tow'ring trophies stand. +If any doubt remains, who dares the most, +Let us decide it at the Trojan's cost, +And issue both abreast, where honor calls- +Foes are not far to seek without the walls- +Unless his noisy tongue can only fight, +And feet were giv'n him but to speed his flight. +I beaten from the field? I forc'd away? +Who, but so known a dastard, dares to say? +Had he but ev'n beheld the fight, his eyes +Had witness'd for me what his tongue denies: +What heaps of Trojans by this hand were slain, +And how the bloody Tiber swell'd the main. +All saw, but he, th' Arcadian troops retire +In scatter'd squadrons, and their prince expire. +The giant brothers, in their camp, have found, +I was not forc'd with ease to quit my ground. +Not such the Trojans tried me, when, inclos'd, +I singly their united arms oppos'd: +First forc'd an entrance thro' their thick array; +Then, glutted with their slaughter, freed my way. +'T is a destructive war? So let it be, +But to the Phrygian pirate, and to thee! +Meantime proceed to fill the people's ears +With false reports, their minds with panic fears: +Extol the strength of a twice-conquer'd race; +Our foes encourage, and our friends debase. +Believe thy fables, and the Trojan town +Triumphant stands; the Grecians are o'erthrown; +Suppliant at Hector's feet Achilles lies, +And Diomede from fierce Aeneas flies. +Say rapid Aufidus with awful dread +Runs backward from the sea, and hides his head, +When the great Trojan on his bank appears; +For that's as true as thy dissembled fears +Of my revenge. Dismiss that vanity: +Thou, Drances, art below a death from me. +Let that vile soul in that vile body rest; +The lodging is well worthy of the guest. + +"Now, royal father, to the present state +Of our affairs, and of this high debate: +If in your arms thus early you diffide, +And think your fortune is already tried; +If one defeat has brought us down so low, +As never more in fields to meet the foe; +Then I conclude for peace: 't is time to treat, +And lie like vassals at the victor's feet. +But, O! if any ancient blood remains, +One drop of all our fathers', in our veins, +That man would I prefer before the rest, +Who dar'd his death with an undaunted breast; +Who comely fell, by no dishonest wound, +To shun that sight, and, dying, gnaw'd the ground. +But, if we still have fresh recruits in store, +If our confederates can afford us more; +If the contended field we bravely fought, +And not a bloodless victory was bought; +Their losses equal'd ours; and, for their slain, +With equal fires they fill'd the shining plain; +Why thus, unforc'd, should we so tamely yield, +And, ere the trumpet sounds, resign the field? +Good unexpected, evils unforeseen, +Appear by turns, as fortune shifts the scene: +Some, rais'd aloft, come tumbling down amain; +Then fall so hard, they bound and rise again. +If Diomede refuse his aid to lend, +The great Messapus yet remains our friend: +Tolumnius, who foretells events, is ours; +Th' Italian chiefs and princes join their pow'rs: +Nor least in number, nor in name the last, +Your own brave subjects have your cause embrac'd +Above the rest, the Volscian Amazon +Contains an army in herself alone, +And heads a squadron, terrible to sight, +With glitt'ring shields, in brazen armor bright. +Yet, if the foe a single fight demand, +And I alone the public peace withstand; +If you consent, he shall not be refus'd, +Nor find a hand to victory unus'd. +This new Achilles, let him take the field, +With fated armor, and Vulcanian shield! +For you, my royal father, and my fame, +I, Turnus, not the least of all my name, +Devote my soul. He calls me hand to hand, +And I alone will answer his demand. +Drances shall rest secure, and neither share +The danger, nor divide the prize of war." + +While they debate, nor these nor those will yield, +Aeneas draws his forces to the field, +And moves his camp. The scouts with flying speed +Return, and thro' the frighted city spread +Th' unpleasing news, the Trojans are descried, +In battle marching by the river side, +And bending to the town. They take th' alarm: +Some tremble, some are bold; all in confusion arm. +Th' impetuous youth press forward to the field; +They clash the sword, and clatter on the shield: +The fearful matrons raise a screaming cry; +Old feeble men with fainter groans reply; +A jarring sound results, and mingles in the sky, +Like that of swans remurm'ring to the floods, +Or birds of diff'ring kinds in hollow woods. + +Turnus th' occasion takes, and cries aloud: +"Talk on, ye quaint haranguers of the crowd: +Declaim in praise of peace, when danger calls, +And the fierce foes in arms approach the walls." +He said, and, turning short, with speedy pace, +Casts back a scornful glance, and quits the place: +"Thou, Volusus, the Volscian troops command +To mount; and lead thyself our Ardean band. +Messapus and Catillus, post your force +Along the fields, to charge the Trojan horse. +Some guard the passes, others man the wall; +Drawn up in arms, the rest attend my call." + +They swarm from ev'ry quarter of the town, +And with disorder'd haste the rampires crown. +Good old Latinus, when he saw, too late, +The gath'ring storm just breaking on the state, +Dismiss'd the council till a fitter time, +And own'd his easy temper as his crime, +Who, forc'd against his reason, had complied +To break the treaty for the promis'd bride. + +Some help to sink new trenches; others aid +To ram the stones, or raise the palisade. +Hoarse trumpets sound th' alarm; around the walls +Runs a distracted crew, whom their last labor calls. +A sad procession in the streets is seen, +Of matrons, that attend the mother queen: +High in her chair she sits, and, at her side, +With downcast eyes, appears the fatal bride. +They mount the cliff, where Pallas' temple stands; +Pray'rs in their mouths, and presents in their hands, +With censers first they fume the sacred shrine, +Then in this common supplication join: +"O patroness of arms, unspotted maid, +Propitious hear, and lend thy Latins aid! +Break short the pirate's lance; pronounce his fate, +And lay the Phrygian low before the gate." + +Now Turnus arms for fight. His back and breast +Well-temper'd steel and scaly brass invest: +The cuishes which his brawny thighs infold +Are mingled metal damask'd o'er with gold. +His faithful fauchion sits upon his side; +Nor casque, nor crest, his manly features hide: +But, bare to view, amid surrounding friends, +With godlike grace, he from the tow'r descends. +Exulting in his strength, he seems to dare +His absent rival, and to promise war. +Freed from his keepers, thus, with broken reins, +The wanton courser prances o'er the plains, +Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the mounds, +And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds. +Or seeks his wat'ring in the well-known flood, +To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood: +He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain, +And o'er his shoulder flows his waving mane: +He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high; +Before his ample chest the frothy waters fly. + +Soon as the prince appears without the gate, +The Volscians, with their virgin leader, wait +His last commands. Then, with a graceful mien, +Lights from her lofty steed the warrior queen: +Her squadron imitates, and each descends; +Whose common suit Camilla thus commends: +"If sense of honor, if a soul secure +Of inborn worth, that can all tests endure, +Can promise aught, or on itself rely +Greatly to dare, to conquer or to die; +Then, I alone, sustain'd by these, will meet +The Tyrrhene troops, and promise their defeat. +Ours be the danger, ours the sole renown: +You, gen'ral, stay behind, and guard the town:" + +Turnus a while stood mute, with glad surprise, +And on the fierce virago fix'd his eyes; +Then thus return'd: "O grace of Italy, +With what becoming thanks can I reply? +Not only words lie lab'ring in my breast, +But thought itself is by thy praise oppress'd. +Yet rob me not of all; but let me join +My toils, my hazard, and my fame, with thine. +The Trojan, not in stratagem unskill'd, +Sends his light horse before to scour the field: +Himself, thro' steep ascents and thorny brakes, +A larger compass to the city takes. +This news my scouts confirm, and I prepare +To foil his cunning, and his force to dare; +With chosen foot his passage to forelay, +And place an ambush in the winding way. +Thou, with thy Volscians, face the Tuscan horse; +The brave Messapus shall thy troops inforce +With those of Tibur, and the Latian band, +Subjected all to thy supreme command." +This said, he warns Messapus to the war, +Then ev'ry chief exhorts with equal care. +All thus encourag'd, his own troops he joins, +And hastes to prosecute his deep designs. + +Inclos'd with hills, a winding valley lies, +By nature form'd for fraud, and fitted for surprise. +A narrow track, by human steps untrode, +Leads, thro' perplexing thorns, to this obscure abode. +High o'er the vale a steepy mountain stands, +Whence the surveying sight the nether ground commands. +The top is level, an offensive seat +Of war; and from the war a safe retreat: +For, on the right and left, is room to press +The foes at hand, or from afar distress; +To drive 'em headlong downward, and to pour +On their descending backs a stony show'r. +Thither young Turnus took the well-known way, +Possess'd the pass, and in blind ambush lay. + +Meantime Latonian Phoebe, from the skies, +Beheld th' approaching war with hateful eyes, +And call'd the light-foot Opis to her aid, +Her most belov'd and ever-trusty maid; +Then with a sigh began: "Camilla goes +To meet her death amidst her fatal foes: +The nymphs I lov'd of all my mortal train, +Invested with Diana's arms, in vain. +Nor is my kindness for the virgin new: +'T was born with her; and with her years it grew. +Her father Metabus, when forc'd away +From old Privernum, for tyrannic sway, +Snatch'd up, and sav'd from his prevailing foes, +This tender babe, companion of his woes. +Casmilla was her mother; but he drown'd +One hissing letter in a softer sound, +And call'd Camilla. Thro' the woods he flies; +Wrapp'd in his robe the royal infant lies. +His foes in sight, he mends his weary pace; +With shout and clamors they pursue the chase. +The banks of Amasene at length he gains: + +The raging flood his farther flight restrains, +Rais'd o'er the borders with unusual rains. +Prepar'd to plunge into the stream, he fears, +Not for himself, but for the charge he bears. +Anxious, he stops a while, and thinks in haste; +Then, desp'rate in distress, resolves at last. +A knotty lance of well-boil'd oak he bore; +The middle part with cork he cover'd o'er: +He clos'd the child within the hollow space; +With twigs of bending osier bound the case; +Then pois'd the spear, heavy with human weight, +And thus invok'd my favor for the freight: +'Accept, great goddess of the woods,' he said, +'Sent by her sire, this dedicated maid! +Thro' air she flies a suppliant to thy shrine; +And the first weapons that she knows, are thine.' +He said; and with full force the spear he threw: +Above the sounding waves Camilla flew. +Then, press'd by foes, he stemm'd the stormy tide, +And gain'd, by stress of arms, the farther side. +His fasten'd spear he pull'd from out the ground, +And, victor of his vows, his infant nymph unbound; +Nor, after that, in towns which walls inclose, +Would trust his hunted life amidst his foes; +But, rough, in open air he chose to lie; +Earth was his couch, his cov'ring was the sky. +On hills unshorn, or in a desart den, +He shunn'd the dire society of men. +A shepherd's solitary life he led; +His daughter with the milk of mares he fed. +The dugs of bears, and ev'ry salvage beast, +He drew, and thro' her lips the liquor press'd. +The little Amazon could scarcely go: +He loads her with a quiver and a bow; +And, that she might her stagg'ring steps command, +He with a slender jav'lin fills her hand. +Her flowing hair no golden fillet bound; +Nor swept her trailing robe the dusty ground. +Instead of these, a tiger's hide o'erspread +Her back and shoulders, fasten'd to her head. +The flying dart she first attempts to fling, +And round her tender temples toss'd the sling; +Then, as her strength with years increas'd, began +To pierce aloft in air the soaring swan, +And from the clouds to fetch the heron and the crane. +The Tuscan matrons with each other vied, +To bless their rival sons with such a bride; +But she disdains their love, to share with me +The sylvan shades and vow'd virginity. +And, O! I wish, contented with my cares +Of salvage spoils, she had not sought the wars! +Then had she been of my celestial train, +And shunn'd the fate that dooms her to be slain. +But since, opposing Heav'n's decree, she goes +To find her death among forbidden foes, +Haste with these arms, and take thy steepy flight. +Where, with the gods, averse, the Latins fight. +This bow to thee, this quiver I bequeath, +This chosen arrow, to revenge her death: +By whate'er hand Camilla shall be slain, +Or of the Trojan or Italian train, +Let him not pass unpunish'd from the plain. +Then, in a hollow cloud, myself will aid +To bear the breathless body of my maid: +Unspoil'd shall be her arms, and unprofan'd +Her holy limbs with any human hand, +And in a marble tomb laid in her native land." + +She said. The faithful nymph descends from high +With rapid flight, and cuts the sounding sky: +Black clouds and stormy winds around her body fly. + +By this, the Trojan and the Tuscan horse, +Drawn up in squadrons, with united force, +Approach the walls: the sprightly coursers bound, +Press forward on their bits, and shift their ground. +Shields, arms, and spears flash horribly from far; +And the fields glitter with a waving war. +Oppos'd to these, come on with furious force +Messapus, Coras, and the Latian horse; +These in the body plac'd, on either hand +Sustain'd and clos'd by fair Camilla's band. +Advancing in a line, they couch their spears; +And less and less the middle space appears. +Thick smoke obscures the field; and scarce are seen +The neighing coursers, and the shouting men. +In distance of their darts they stop their course; +Then man to man they rush, and horse to horse. +The face of heav'n their flying jav'lins hide, +And deaths unseen are dealt on either side. +Tyrrhenus, and Aconteus, void of fear, +By mettled coursers borne in full career, +Meet first oppos'd; and, with a mighty shock, +Their horses' heads against each other knock. +Far from his steed is fierce Aconteus cast, +As with an engine's force, or lightning's blast: +He rolls along in blood, and breathes his last. +The Latin squadrons take a sudden fright, +And sling their shields behind, to save their backs in flight +Spurring at speed to their own walls they drew; +Close in the rear the Tuscan troops pursue, +And urge their flight: Asylas leads the chase; +Till, seiz'd, with shame, they wheel about and face, +Receive their foes, and raise a threat'ning cry. +The Tuscans take their turn to fear and fly. +So swelling surges, with a thund'ring roar, +Driv'n on each other's backs, insult the shore, +Bound o'er the rocks, incroach upon the land, +And far upon the beach eject the sand; +Then backward, with a swing, they take their way, +Repuls'd from upper ground, and seek their mother sea; +With equal hurry quit th' invaded shore, +And swallow back the sand and stones they spew'd before. + +Twice were the Tuscans masters of the field, +Twice by the Latins, in their turn, repell'd. +Asham'd at length, to the third charge they ran; +Both hosts resolv'd, and mingled man to man. +Now dying groans are heard; the fields are strow'd +With falling bodies, and are drunk with blood. +Arms, horses, men, on heaps together lie: +Confus'd the fight, and more confus'd the cry. +Orsilochus, who durst not press too near +Strong Remulus, at distance drove his spear, +And stuck the steel beneath his horse's ear. +The fiery steed, impatient of the wound, +Curvets, and, springing upward with a bound, +His helpless lord cast backward on the ground. +Catillus pierc'd Iolas first; then drew +His reeking lance, and at Herminius threw, +The mighty champion of the Tuscan crew. +His neck and throat unarm'd, his head was bare, +But shaded with a length of yellow hair: +Secure, he fought, expos'd on ev'ry part, +A spacious mark for swords, and for the flying dart. +Across the shoulders came the feather'd wound; +Transfix'd he fell, and doubled to the ground. +The sands with streaming blood are sanguine dyed, +And death with honor sought on either side. + +Resistless thro' the war Camilla rode, +In danger unappall'd, and pleas'd with blood. +One side was bare for her exerted breast; +One shoulder with her painted quiver press'd. +Now from afar her fatal jav'lins play; +Now with her ax's edge she hews her way: +Diana's arms upon her shoulder sound; +And when, too closely press'd, she quits the ground, +From her bent bow she sends a backward wound. +Her maids, in martial pomp, on either side, +Larina, Tulla, fierce Tarpeia, ride: +Italians all; in peace, their queen's delight; +In war, the bold companions of the fight. +So march'd the Tracian Amazons of old, +When Thermodon with bloody billows roll'd: +Such troops as these in shining arms were seen, +When Theseus met in fight their maiden queen: +Such to the field Penthisilea led, +From the fierce virgin when the Grecians fled; +With such, return'd triumphant from the war, +Her maids with cries attend the lofty car; +They clash with manly force their moony shields; +With female shouts resound the Phrygian fields. + +Who foremost, and who last, heroic maid, +On the cold earth were by thy courage laid? +Thy spear, of mountain ash, Eumenius first, +With fury driv'n, from side to side transpierc'd: +A purple stream came spouting from the wound; +Bath'd in his blood he lies, and bites the ground. +Liris and Pegasus at once she slew: +The former, as the slacken'd reins he drew +Of his faint steed; the latter, as he stretch'd +His arm to prop his friend, the jav'lin reach'd. +By the same weapon, sent from the same hand, +Both fall together, and both spurn the sand. +Amastrus next is added to the slain: +The rest in rout she follows o'er the plain: +Tereus, Harpalycus, Demophoon, +And Chromis, at full speed her fury shun. +Of all her deadly darts, not one she lost; +Each was attended with a Trojan ghost. +Young Ornithus bestrode a hunter steed, +Swift for the chase, and of Apulian breed. +Him from afar she spied, in arms unknown: +O'er his broad back an ox's hide was thrown; +His helm a wolf, whose gaping jaws were spread +A cov'ring for his cheeks, and grinn'd around his head, +He clench'd within his hand an iron prong, +And tower'd above the rest, conspicuous in the throng. +Him soon she singled from the flying train, +And slew with ease; then thus insults the slain: +"Vain hunter, didst thou think thro' woods to chase +The savage herd, a vile and trembling race? +Here cease thy vaunts, and own my victory: +A woman warrior was too strong for thee. +Yet, if the ghosts demand the conqu'ror's name, +Confessing great Camilla, save thy shame." +Then Butes and Orsilochus she slew, +The bulkiest bodies of the Trojan crew; +But Butes breast to breast: the spear descends +Above the gorget, where his helmet ends, +And o'er the shield which his left side defends. +Orsilochus and she their courses ply: +He seems to follow, and she seems to fly; +But in a narrower ring she makes the race; +And then he flies, and she pursues the chase. +Gath'ring at length on her deluded foe, +She swings her ax, and rises to the blow +Full on the helm behind, with such a sway +The weapon falls, the riven steel gives way: +He groans, he roars, he sues in vain for grace; +Brains, mingled with his blood, besmear his face. + +Astonish'd Aunus just arrives by chance, +To see his fall; nor farther dares advance; +But, fixing on the horrid maid his eye, +He stares, and shakes, and finds it vain to fly; +Yet, like a true Ligurian, born to cheat, +(At least while fortune favor'd his deceit,) +Cries out aloud: "What courage have you shown, +Who trust your courser's strength, and not your own? +Forego the vantage of your horse, alight, +And then on equal terms begin the fight: +It shall be seen, weak woman, what you can, +When, foot to foot, you combat with a man," +He said. She glows with anger and disdain, +Dismounts with speed to dare him on the plain, +And leaves her horse at large among her train; +With her drawn sword defies him to the field, +And, marching, lifts aloft her maiden shield. +The youth, who thought his cunning did succeed, +Reins round his horse, and urges all his speed; +Adds the remembrance of the spur, and hides +The goring rowels in his bleeding sides. +"Vain fool, and coward!" cries the lofty maid, +"Caught in the train which thou thyself hast laid! +On others practice thy Ligurian arts; +Thin stratagems and tricks of little hearts +Are lost on me: nor shalt thou safe retire, +With vaunting lies, to thy fallacious sire." +At this, so fast her flying feet she sped, +That soon she strain'd beyond his horse's head: +Then turning short, at once she seiz'd the rein, +And laid the boaster grov'ling on the plain. +Not with more ease the falcon, from above, +Trusses in middle air the trembling dove, +Then plumes the prey, in her strong pounces bound: +The feathers, foul with blood, come tumbling to the ground. + +Now mighty Jove, from his superior height, +With his broad eye surveys th' unequal fight. +He fires the breast of Tarchon with disdain, +And sends him to redeem th' abandon'd plain. +Betwixt the broken ranks the Tuscan rides, +And these encourages, and those he chides; +Recalls each leader, by his name, from flight; +Renews their ardor, and restores the fight. +"What panic fear has seiz'd your souls? O shame, +O brand perpetual of th' Etrurian name! +Cowards incurable, a woman's hand +Drives, breaks, and scatters your ignoble band! +Now cast away the sword, and quit the shield! +What use of weapons which you dare not wield? +Not thus you fly your female foes by night, +Nor shun the feast, when the full bowls invite; +When to fat off'rings the glad augur calls, +And the shrill hornpipe sounds to bacchanals. +These are your studied cares, your lewd delight: +Swift to debauch, but slow to manly fight." +Thus having said, he spurs amid the foes, +Not managing the life he meant to lose. +The first he found he seiz'd with headlong haste, +In his strong gripe, and clasp'd around the waist; +'T was Venulus, whom from his horse he tore, +And, laid athwart his own, in triumph bore. +Loud shouts ensue; the Latins turn their eyes, +And view th' unusual sight with vast surprise. +The fiery Tarchon, flying o'er the plains, +Press'd in his arms the pond'rous prey sustains; +Then, with his shorten'd spear, explores around +His jointed arms, to fix a deadly wound. +Nor less the captive struggles for his life: +He writhes his body to prolong the strife, +And, fencing for his naked throat, exerts +His utmost vigor, and the point averts. +So stoops the yellow eagle from on high, +And bears a speckled serpent thro' the sky, +Fast'ning his crooked talons on the prey: +The pris'ner hisses thro' the liquid way; +Resists the royal hawk; and, tho' oppress'd, +She fights in volumes, and erects her crest: +Turn'd to her foe, she stiffens ev'ry scale, +And shoots her forky tongue, and whisks her threat'ning tail. +Against the victor, all defense is weak: +Th' imperial bird still plies her with his beak; +He tears her bowels, and her breast he gores; +Then claps his pinions, and securely soars. +Thus, thro' the midst of circling enemies, +Strong Tarchon snatch'd and bore away his prize. +The Tyrrhene troops, that shrunk before, now press +The Latins, and presume the like success. + +Then Aruns, doom'd to death, his arts assay'd, +To murther, unespied, the Volscian maid: +This way and that his winding course he bends, +And, whereso'er she turns, her steps attends. +When she retires victorious from the chase, +He wheels about with care, and shifts his place; +When, rushing on, she seeks her foes flight, +He keeps aloof, but keeps her still in sight: +He threats, and trembles, trying ev'ry way, +Unseen to kill, and safely to betray. +Chloreus, the priest of Cybele, from far, +Glitt'ring in Phrygian arms amidst the war, +Was by the virgin view'd. The steed he press'd +Was proud with trappings, and his brawny chest +With scales of gilded brass was cover'd o'er; +A robe of Tyrian dye the rider wore. +With deadly wounds he gall'd the distant foe; +Gnossian his shafts, and Lycian was his bow: +A golden helm his front and head surrounds +A gilded quiver from his shoulder sounds. +Gold, weav'd with linen, on his thighs he wore, +With flowers of needlework distinguish'd o'er, +With golden buckles bound, and gather'd up before. +Him the fierce maid beheld with ardent eyes, +Fond and ambitious of so rich a prize, +Or that the temple might his trophies hold, +Or else to shine herself in Trojan gold. +Blind in her haste, she chases him alone. +And seeks his life, regardless of her own. + +This lucky moment the sly traitor chose: +Then, starting from his ambush, up he rose, +And threw, but first to Heav'n address'd his vows: +"O patron of Socrates' high abodes, +Phoebus, the ruling pow'r among the gods, +Whom first we serve, whole woods of unctuous pine +Are fell'd for thee, and to thy glory shine; +By thee protected with our naked soles, +Thro' flames unsing'd we march, and tread the kindled coals +Give me, propitious pow'r, to wash away +The stains of this dishonorable day: +Nor spoils, nor triumph, from the fact I claim, +But with my future actions trust my fame. +Let me, by stealth, this female plague o'ercome, +And from the field return inglorious home." +Apollo heard, and, granting half his pray'r, +Shuffled in winds the rest, and toss'd in empty air. +He gives the death desir'd; his safe return +By southern tempests to the seas is borne. + +Now, when the jav'lin whizz'd along the skies, +Both armies on Camilla turn'd their eyes, +Directed by the sound. Of either host, +Th' unhappy virgin, tho' concern'd the most, +Was only deaf; so greedy was she bent +On golden spoils, and on her prey intent; +Till in her pap the winged weapon stood +Infix'd, and deeply drunk the purple blood. +Her sad attendants hasten to sustain +Their dying lady, drooping on the plain. +Far from their sight the trembling Aruns flies, +With beating heart, and fear confus'd with joys; +Nor dares he farther to pursue his blow, +Or ev'n to bear the sight of his expiring foe. +As, when the wolf has torn a bullock's hide +At unawares, or ranch'd a shepherd's side, +Conscious of his audacious deed, he flies, +And claps his quiv'ring tail between his thighs: +So, speeding once, the wretch no more attends, +But, spurring forward, herds among his friends. + +She wrench'd the jav'lin with her dying hands, +But wedg'd within her breast the weapon stands; +The wood she draws, the steely point remains; +She staggers in her seat with agonizing pains: +(A gath'ring mist o'erclouds her cheerful eyes, +And from her cheeks the rosy color flies:) +Then turns to her, whom of her female train +She trusted most, and thus she speaks with pain: +"Acca, 't is past! he swims before my sight, +Inexorable Death; and claims his right. +Bear my last words to Turnus; fly with speed, +And bid him timely to my charge succeed, +Repel the Trojans, and the town relieve: +Farewell! and in this kiss my parting breath receive." +She said, and, sliding, sunk upon the plain: +Dying, her open'd hand forsakes the rein; +Short, and more short, she pants; by slow degrees +Her mind the passage from her body frees. +She drops her sword; she nods her plumy crest, +Her drooping head declining on her breast: +In the last sigh her struggling soul expires, +And, murm'ring with disdain, to Stygian sounds retires. + +A shout, that struck the golden stars, ensued; +Despair and rage the languish'd fight renew'd. +The Trojan troops and Tuscans, in a line, +Advance to charge; the mix'd Arcadians join. + +But Cynthia's maid, high seated, from afar +Surveys the field, and fortune of the war, +Unmov'd a while, till, prostrate on the plain, +Welt'ring in blood, she sees Camilla slain, +And, round her corpse, of friends and foes a fighting train. +Then, from the bottom of her breast, she drew +A mournful sigh, and these sad words ensue: +"Too dear a fine, ah much lamented maid, +For warring with the Trojans, thou hast paid! +Nor aught avail'd, in this unhappy strife, +Diana's sacred arms, to save thy life. +Yet unreveng'd thy goddess will not leave +Her vot'ry's death, nor; with vain sorrow grieve. +Branded the wretch, and be his name abhorr'd; +But after ages shall thy praise record. +Th' inglorious coward soon shall press the plain: +Thus vows thy queen, and thus the Fates ordain." + +High o'er the field there stood a hilly mound, +Sacred the place, and spread with oaks around, +Where, in a marble tomb, Dercennus lay, +A king that once in Latium bore the sway. +The beauteous Opis thither bent her flight, +To mark the traitor Aruns from the height. +Him in refulgent arms she soon espied, +Swoln with success; and loudly thus she cried: +"Thy backward steps, vain boaster, are too late; +Turn like a man, at length, and meet thy fate. +Charg'd with my message, to Camilla go, +And say I sent thee to the shades below, +An honor undeserv'd from Cynthia's bow." + +She said, and from her quiver chose with speed +The winged shaft, predestin'd for the deed; +Then to the stubborn yew her strength applied, +Till the far distant horns approach'd on either side. +The bowstring touch'd her breast, so strong she drew; +Whizzing in air the fatal arrow flew. +At once the twanging bow and sounding dart +The traitor heard, and felt the point within his heart. +Him, beating with his heels in pangs of death, +His flying friends to foreign fields bequeath. +The conqu'ring damsel, with expanded wings, +The welcome message to her mistress brings. + +Their leader lost, the Volscians quit the field, +And, unsustain'd, the chiefs of Turnus yield. +The frighted soldiers, when their captains fly, +More on their speed than on their strength rely. +Confus'd in flight, they bear each other down, +And spur their horses headlong to the town. +Driv'n by their foes, and to their fears resign'd, +Not once they turn, but take their wounds behind. +These drop the shield, and those the lance forego, +Or on their shoulders bear the slacken'd bow. +The hoofs of horses, with a rattling sound, +Beat short and thick, and shake the rotten ground. +Black clouds of dust come rolling in the sky, +And o'er the darken'd walls and rampires fly. +The trembling matrons, from their lofty stands, +Rend heav'n with female shrieks, and wring their hands. +All pressing on, pursuers and pursued, +Are crush'd in crowds, a mingled multitude. +Some happy few escape: the throng too late +Rush on for entrance, till they choke the gate. +Ev'n in the sight of home, the wretched sire +Looks on, and sees his helpless son expire. +Then, in a fright, the folding gates they close, +But leave their friends excluded with their foes. +The vanquish'd cry; the victors loudly shout; +'T is terror all within, and slaughter all without. +Blind in their fear, they bounce against the wall, +Or, to the moats pursued, precipitate their fall. + +The Latian virgins, valiant with despair, +Arm'd on the tow'rs, the common danger share: +So much of zeal their country's cause inspir'd; +So much Camilla's great example fir'd. +Poles, sharpen'd in the flames, from high they throw, +With imitated darts, to gall the foe. +Their lives for godlike freedom they bequeath, +And crowd each other to be first in death. +Meantime to Turnus, ambush'd in the shade, +With heavy tidings came th' unhappy maid: +"The Volscians overthrown, Camilla kill'd; +The foes, entirely masters of the field, +Like a resistless flood, come rolling on: +The cry goes off the plain, and thickens to the town." + +Inflam'd with rage, (for so the Furies fire +The Daunian's breast, and so the Fates require,) +He leaves the hilly pass, the woods in vain +Possess'd, and downward issues on the plain. +Scarce was he gone, when to the straits, now freed +From secret foes, the Trojan troops succeed. +Thro' the black forest and the ferny brake, +Unknowingly secure, their way they take; +From the rough mountains to the plain descend, +And there, in order drawn, their line extend. +Both armies now in open fields are seen; +Nor far the distance of the space between. +Both to the city bend. Aeneas sees, +Thro' smoking fields, his hast'ning enemies; +And Turnus views the Trojans in array, +And hears th' approaching horses proudly neigh. +Soon had their hosts in bloody battle join'd; +But westward to the sea the sun declin'd. +Intrench'd before the town both armies lie, +While Night with sable wings involves the sky. +BOOK XII + +When Turnus saw the Latins leave the field, +Their armies broken, and their courage quell'd, +Himself become the mark of public spite, +His honor question'd for the promis'd fight; +The more he was with vulgar hate oppress'd, +The more his fury boil'd within his breast: +He rous'd his vigor for the last debate, +And rais'd his haughty soul to meet his fate. + +As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase, +He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace; +But, if the pointed jav'lin pierce his side, +The lordly beast returns with double pride: +He wrenches out the steel, he roars for pain; +His sides he lashes, and erects his mane: +So Turnus fares; his eyeballs flash with fire, +Thro' his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire. + +Trembling with rage, around the court he ran, +At length approach'd the king, and thus began: +"No more excuses or delays: I stand +In arms prepar'd to combat, hand to hand, +This base deserter of his native land. +The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take +The same conditions which himself did make. +Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare, +And to my single virtue trust the war. +The Latians unconcern'd shall see the fight; +This arm unaided shall assert your right: +Then, if my prostrate body press the plain, +To him the crown and beauteous bride remain." + +To whom the king sedately thus replied: +"Brave youth, the more your valor has been tried, +The more becomes it us, with due respect, +To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect. +You want not wealth, or a successive throne, +Or cities which your arms have made your own: +My towns and treasures are at your command, +And stor'd with blooming beauties is my land; +Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees, +Unmarried, fair, of noble families. +Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, +Things which perhaps may grate a lover's ear, +But sound advice, proceeding from a heart +Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art. +The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown, +No prince Italian born should heir my throne: +Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill'd, +And oft our priests, foreign son reveal'd. +Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood, +Brib'd by my kindness to my kindred blood, +Urg'd by my wife, who would not be denied, +I promis'd my Lavinia for your bride: +Her from her plighted lord by force I took; +All ties of treaties, and of honor, broke: +On your account I wag'd an impious war- +With what success, 't is needless to declare; +I and my subjects feel, and you have had your share. +Twice vanquish'd while in bloody fields we strive, +Scarce in our walls we keep our hopes alive: +The rolling flood runs warm with human gore; +The bones of Latians blanch the neighb'ring shore. +Why put I not an end to this debate, +Still unresolv'd, and still a slave to fate? +If Turnus' death a lasting peace can give, +Why should I not procure it whilst you live? +Should I to doubtful arms your youth betray, +What would my kinsmen the Rutulians say? +And, should you fall in fight, (which Heav'n defend!) +How curse the cause which hasten'd to his end +The daughter's lover and the father's friend? +Weigh in your mind the various chance of war; +Pity your parent's age, and ease his care." + +Such balmy words he pour'd, but all in vain: +The proffer'd med'cine but provok'd the pain. +The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief, +With intermitting sobs thus vents his grief: +"The care, O best of fathers, which you take +For my concerns, at my desire forsake. +Permit me not to languish out my days, +But make the best exchange of life for praise. +This arm, this lance, can well dispute the prize; +And the blood follows, where the weapon flies. +His goddess mother is not near, to shroud +The flying coward with an empty cloud." + +But now the queen, who fear'd for Turnus' life, +And loath'd the hard conditions of the strife, +Held him by force; and, dying in his death, +In these sad accents gave her sorrow breath: +"O Turnus, I adjure thee by these tears, +And whate'er price Amata's honor bears +Within thy breast, since thou art all my hope, +My sickly mind's repose, my sinking age's prop; +Since on the safety of thy life alone +Depends Latinus, and the Latian throne: +Refuse me not this one, this only pray'r, +To waive the combat, and pursue the war. +Whatever chance attends this fatal strife, +Think it includes, in thine, Amata's life. +I cannot live a slave, or see my throne +Usurp'd by strangers or a Trojan son." + +At this, a flood of tears Lavinia shed; +A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread, +Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red. +The driving colors, never at a stay, +Run here and there, and flush, and fade away. +Delightful change! Thus Indian iv'ry shows, +Which with the bord'ring paint of purple glows; +Or lilies damask'd by the neighb'ring rose. + +The lover gaz'd, and, burning with desire, +The more he look'd, the more he fed the fire: +Revenge, and jealous rage, and secret spite, +Roll in his breast, and rouse him to the fight. +Then fixing on the queen his ardent eyes, +Firm to his first intent, he thus replies: +"O mother, do not by your tears prepare +Such boding omens, and prejudge the war. +Resolv'd on fight, I am no longer free +To shun my death, if Heav'n my death decree." +Then turning to the herald, thus pursues: +"Go, greet the Trojan with ungrateful news; +Denounce from me, that, when to-morrow's light +Shall gild the heav'ns, he need not urge the fight; +The Trojan and Rutulian troops no more +Shall dye, with mutual blood, the Latian shore: +Our single swords the quarrel shall decide, +And to the victor be the beauteous bride." + +He said, and striding on, with speedy pace, +He sought his coursers of the Thracian race. +At his approach they toss their heads on high, +And, proudly neighing, promise victory. +The sires of these Orythia sent from far, +To grace Pilumnus, when he went to war. +The drifts of Thracian snows were scarce so white, +Nor northern winds in fleetness match'd their flight. +Officious grooms stand ready by his side; +And some with combs their flowing manes divide, +And others stroke their chests and gently soothe their pride + +He sheath'd his limbs in arms; a temper'd mass +Of golden metal those, and mountain brass. +Then to his head his glitt'ring helm he tied, +And girt his faithful fauchion to his side. +In his Aetnaean forge, the God of Fire +That fauchion labor'd for the hero's sire; +Immortal keenness on the blade bestow'd, +And plung'd it hissing in the Stygian flood. +Propp'd on a pillar, which the ceiling bore, +Was plac'd the lance Auruncan Actor wore; +Which with such force he brandish'd in his hand, +The tough ash trembled like an osier wand: +Then cried: "O pond'rous spoil of Actor slain, +And never yet by Turnus toss'd in vain, +Fail not this day thy wonted force; but go, +Sent by this hand, to pierce the Trojan foe! +Give me to tear his corslet from his breast, +And from that eunuch head to rend the crest; +Dragg'd in the dust, his frizzled hair to soil, +Hot from the vexing ir'n, and smear'd with fragrant oil!" + +Thus while he raves, from his wide nostrils flies +A fiery steam, and sparkles from his eyes. +So fares the bull in his lov'd female's sight: +Proudly he bellows, and preludes the fight; +He tries his goring horns against a tree, +And meditates his absent enemy; +He pushes at the winds; he digs the strand +With his black hoofs, and spurns the yellow sand. + +Nor less the Trojan, in his Lemnian arms, +To future fight his manly courage warms: +He whets his fury, and with joy prepares +To terminate at once the ling'ring wars; +To cheer his chiefs and tender son, relates +What Heav'n had promis'd, and expounds the fates. +Then to the Latian king he sends, to cease +The rage of arms, and ratify the peace. + +The morn ensuing, from the mountain's height, +Had scarcely spread the skies with rosy light; +Th' ethereal coursers, bounding from the sea, +From out their flaming nostrils breath'd the day; +When now the Trojan and Rutulian guard, +In friendly labor join'd, the list prepar'd. +Beneath the walls they measure out the space; +Then sacred altars rear, on sods of grass, +Where, with religious their common gods they place. +In purest white the priests their heads attire; +And living waters bear, and holy fire; +And, o'er their linen hoods and shaded hair, +Long twisted wreaths of sacred veryain wear, + +In order issuing from the town appears +The Latin legion, arm'd with pointed spears; +And from the fields, advancing on a line, +The Trojan and the Tuscan forces join: +Their various arms afford a pleasing sight; +A peaceful train they seem, in peace prepar'd for fight. +Betwixt the ranks the proud commanders ride, +Glitt'ring with gold, and vests in purple dyed; +Here Mnestheus, author of the Memmian line, +And there Messapus, born of seed divine. +The sign is giv'n; and, round the listed space, +Each man in order fills his proper place. +Reclining on their ample shields, they stand, +And fix their pointed lances in the sand. +Now, studious of the sight, a num'rous throng +Of either sex promiscuous, old and young, +Swarm the town: by those who rest behind, +The gates and walls and houses' tops are lin'd. +Meantime the Queen of Heav'n beheld the sight, +With eyes unpleas'd, from Mount Albano's height +(Since call'd Albano by succeeding fame, +But then an empty hill, without a name). +She thence survey'd the field, the Trojan pow'rs, +The Latian squadrons, and Laurentine tow'rs. +Then thus the goddess of the skies bespoke, +With sighs and tears, the goddess of the lake, +King Turnus' sister, once a lovely maid, +Ere to the lust of lawless Jove betray'd: +Compress'd by force, but, by the grateful god, +Now made the Nais of the neighb'ring flood. +"O nymph, the pride of living lakes," said she, +"O most renown'd, and most belov'd by me, +Long hast thou known, nor need I to record, +The wanton sallies of my wand'ring lord. +Of ev'ry Latian fair whom Jove misled +To mount by stealth my violated bed, +To thee alone I grudg'd not his embrace, +But gave a part of heav'n, and an unenvied place. +Now learn from me thy near approaching grief, +Nor think my wishes want to thy relief. +While fortune favor'd, nor Heav'n's King denied +To lend my succor to the Latian side, +I sav'd thy brother, and the sinking state: +But now he struggles with unequal fate, +And goes, with gods averse, o'ermatch'd in might, +To meet inevitable death in fight; +Nor must I break the truce, nor can sustain the sight. +Thou, if thou dar'st thy present aid supply; +It well becomes a sister's care to try." + +At this the lovely nymph, with grief oppress'd, +Thrice tore her hair, and beat her comely breast. +To whom Saturnia thus: "Thy tears are late: +Haste, snatch him, if he can be snatch'd from fate: +New tumults kindle; violate the truce: +Who knows what changeful fortune may produce? +'T is not a crime t' attempt what I decree; +Or, if it were, discharge the crime on me." +She said, and, sailing on the winged wind, +Left the sad nymph suspended in her mind. + +And now pomp the peaceful kings appear: +Four steeds the chariot of Latinus bear; +Twelve golden beams around his temples play, +To mark his lineage from the God of Day. +Two snowy coursers Turnus' chariot yoke, +And in his hand two massy spears he shook: +Then issued from the camp, in arms divine, +Aeneas, author of the Roman line; +And by his side Ascanius took his place, +The second hope of Rome's immortal race. +Adorn'd in white, a rev'rend priest appears, +And off'rings to the flaming altars bears; +A porket, and a lamb that never suffer'd shears. +Then to the rising sun he turns his eyes, +And strews the beasts, design'd for sacrifice, +With salt and meal: with like officious care +He marks their foreheads, and he clips their hair. +Betwixt their horns the purple wine he sheds; +With the same gen'rous juice the flame he feeds. + +Aeneas then unsheath'd his shining sword, +And thus with pious pray'rs the gods ador'd: +"All-seeing sun, and thou, Ausonian soil, +For which I have sustain'd so long a toil, +Thou, King of Heav'n, and thou, the Queen of Air, +Propitious now, and reconcil'd by pray'r; +Thou, God of War, whose unresisted sway +The labors and events of arms obey; +Ye living fountains, and ye running floods, +All pow'rs of ocean, all ethereal gods, +Hear, and bear record: if I fall in field, +Or, recreant in the fight, to Turnus yield, +My Trojans shall encrease Evander's town; +Ascanius shall renounce th' Ausonian crown: +All claims, all questions of debate, shall cease; +Nor he, nor they, with force infringe the peace. +But, if my juster arms prevail in fight, +(As sure they shall, if I divine aright,) +My Trojans shall not o'er th' Italians reign: +Both equal, both unconquer'd shall remain, +Join'd in their laws, their lands, and their abodes; +I ask but altars for my weary gods. +The care of those religious rites be mine; +The crown to King Latinus I resign: +His be the sov'reign sway. Nor will I share +His pow'r in peace, or his command in war. +For me, my friends another town shall frame, +And bless the rising tow'rs with fair Lavinia's name." + +Thus he. Then, with erected eyes and hands, +The Latian king before his altar stands. +"By the same heav'n," said he, "and earth, and main, +And all the pow'rs that all the three contain; +By hell below, and by that upper god +Whose thunder signs the peace, who seals it with his nod; +So let Latona's double offspring hear, +And double-fronted Janus, what I swear: +I touch the sacred altars, touch the flames, +And all those pow'rs attest, and all their names; +Whatever chance befall on either side, +No term of time this union shall divide: +No force, no fortune, shall my vows unbind, +Or shake the steadfast tenor of my mind; +Not tho' the circling seas should break their bound, +O'erflow the shores, or sap the solid ground; +Not tho' the lamps of heav'n their spheres forsake, +Hurl'd down, and hissing in the nether lake: +Ev'n as this royal scepter" (for he bore +A scepter in his hand) "shall never more +Shoot out in branches, or renew the birth: +An orphan now, cut from the mother earth +By the keen ax, dishonor'd of its hair, +And cas'd in brass, for Latian kings to bear." + +When thus in public view the peace was tied +With solemn vows, and sworn on either side, +All dues perform'd which holy rites require; +The victim beasts are slain before the fire, +The trembling entrails from their bodies torn, +And to the fatten'd flames in chargers borne. + +Already the Rutulians deem their man +O'ermatch'd in arms, before the fight began. +First rising fears are whisper'd thro' the crowd; +Then, gath'ring sound, they murmur more aloud. +Now, side to side, they measure with their eyes +The champions' bulk, their sinews, and their size: +The nearer they approach, the more is known +Th' apparent disadvantage of their own. +Turnus himself appears in public sight +Conscious of fate, desponding of the fight. +Slowly he moves, and at his altar stands +With eyes dejected, and with trembling hands; +And, while he mutters undistinguish'd pray'rs, +A livid deadness in his cheeks appears. + +With anxious pleasure when Juturna view'd +Th' increasing fright of the mad multitude, +When their short sighs and thick'ning sobs she heard, +And found their ready minds for change prepar'd; +Dissembling her immortal form, she took +Camertus' mien, his habit, and his look; +A chief of ancient blood; in arms well known +Was his great sire, and he his greater son. +His shape assum'd, amid the ranks she ran, +And humoring their first motions, thus began: +"For shame, Rutulians, can you bear the sight +Of one expos'd for all, in single fight? +Can we, before the face of heav'n, confess +Our courage colder, or our numbers less? +View all the Trojan host, th' Arcadian band, +And Tuscan army; count 'em as they stand: +Undaunted to the battle if we go, +Scarce ev'ry second man will share a foe. +Turnus, 't is true, in this unequal strife, +Shall lose, with honor, his devoted life, +Or change it rather for immortal fame, +Succeeding to the gods, from whence he came: +But you, a servile and inglorious band, +For foreign lords shall sow your native land, +Those fruitful fields your fighting fathers gain'd, +Which have so long their lazy sons sustain'd." +With words like these, she carried her design: +A rising murmur runs along the line. +Then ev'n the city troops, and Latians, tir'd +With tedious war, seem with new souls inspir'd: +Their champion's fate with pity they lament, +And of the league, so lately sworn, repent. + +Nor fails the goddess to foment the rage +With lying wonders, and a false presage; +But adds a sign, which, present to their eyes, +Inspires new courage, and a glad surprise. +For, sudden, in the fiery tracts above, +Appears in pomp th' imperial bird of Jove: +A plump of fowl he spies, that swim the lakes, +And o'er their heads his sounding pinions shakes; +Then, stooping on the fairest of the train, +In his strong talons truss'd a silver swan. +Th' Italians wonder at th' unusual sight; +But, while he lags, and labors in his flight, +Behold, the dastard fowl return anew, +And with united force the foe pursue: +Clam'rous around the royal hawk they fly, +And, thick'ning in a cloud, o'ershade the sky. +They cuff, they scratch, they cross his airy course; +Nor can th' incumber'd bird sustain their force; +But vex'd, not vanquish'd, drops the pond'rous prey, +And, lighten'd of his burthen, wings his way. + +Th' Ausonian bands with shouts salute the sight, +Eager of action, and demand the fight. +Then King Tolumnius, vers'd in augurs' arts, +Cries out, and thus his boasted skill imparts: +"At length 't is granted, what I long desir'd! +This, this is what my frequent vows requir'd. +Ye gods, I take your omen, and obey. +Advance, my friends, and charge! I lead the way. +These are the foreign foes, whose impious band, +Like that rapacious bird, infest our land: +But soon, like him, they shall be forc'd to sea +By strength united, and forego the prey. +Your timely succor to your country bring, +Haste to the rescue, and redeem your king." + +He said; and, pressing onward thro' the crew, +Pois'd in his lifted arm, his lance he threw. +The winged weapon, whistling in the wind, +Came driving on, nor miss'd the mark design'd. +At once the cornel rattled in the skies; +At once tumultuous shouts and clamors rise. +Nine brothers in a goodly band there stood, +Born of Arcadian mix'd with Tuscan blood, +Gylippus' sons: the fatal jav'lin flew, +Aim'd at the midmost of the friendly crew. +A passage thro' the jointed arms it found, +Just where the belt was to the body bound, +And struck the gentle youth extended on the ground. +Then, fir'd with pious rage, the gen'rous train +Run madly forward to revenge the slain. +And some with eager haste their jav'lins throw; +And some with sword in hand assault the foe. + +The wish'd insult the Latine troops embrace, +And meet their ardor in the middle space. +The Trojans, Tuscans, and Arcadian line, +With equal courage obviate their design. +Peace leaves the violated fields, and hate +Both armies urges to their mutual fate. +With impious haste their altars are o'erturn'd, +The sacrifice half-broil'd, and half-unburn'd. +Thick storms of steel from either army fly, +And clouds of clashing darts obscure the sky; +Brands from the fire are missive weapons made, +With chargers, bowls, and all the priestly trade. +Latinus, frighted, hastens from the fray, +And bears his unregarded gods away. +These on their horses vault; those yoke the car; +The rest, with swords on high, run headlong to the war. + +Messapus, eager to confound the peace, +Spurr'd his hot courser thro' the fighting prease, +At King Aulestes, by his purple known +A Tuscan prince, and by his regal crown; +And, with a shock encount'ring, bore him down. +Backward he fell; and, as his fate design'd, +The ruins of an altar were behind: +There, pitching on his shoulders and his head, +Amid the scatt'ring fires he lay supinely spread. +The beamy spear, descending from above, +His cuirass pierc'd, and thro' his body drove. +Then, with a scornful smile, the victor cries: +"The gods have found a fitter sacrifice." +Greedy of spoils, th' Italians strip the dead +Of his rich armor, and uncrown his head. + +Priest Corynaeus, arm'd his better hand, +From his own altar, with a blazing brand; +And, as Ebusus with a thund'ring pace +Advanc'd to battle, dash'd it on his face: +His bristly beard shines out with sudden fires; +The crackling crop a noisome scent expires. +Following the blow, he seiz'd his curling crown +With his left hand; his other cast him down. +The prostrate body with his knees he press'd, +And plung'd his holy poniard in his breast. + +While Podalirius, with his sword, pursued +The shepherd Alsus thro' the flying crowd, +Swiftly he turns, and aims a deadly blow +Full on the front of his unwary foe. +The broad ax enters with a crashing sound, +And cleaves the chin with one continued wound; +Warm blood, and mingled brains, besmear his arms around +An iron sleep his stupid eyes oppress'd, +And seal'd their heavy lids in endless rest. + +But good Aeneas rush'd amid the bands; +Bare was his head, and naked were his hands, +In sign of truce: then thus he cries aloud: +"What sudden rage, what new desire of blood, +Inflames your alter'd minds? O Trojans, cease +From impious arms, nor violate the peace! +By human sanctions, and by laws divine, +The terms are all agreed; the war is mine. +Dismiss your fears, and let the fight ensue; +This hand alone shall right the gods and you: +Our injur'd altars, and their broken vow, +To this avenging sword the faithless Turnus owe." + +Thus while he spoke, unmindful of defense, +A winged arrow struck the pious prince. +But, whether from some human hand it came, +Or hostile god, is left unknown by fame: +No human hand or hostile god was found, +To boast the triumph of so base a wound. + +When Turnus saw the Trojan quit the plain, +His chiefs dismay'd, his troops a fainting train, +Th' unhop'd event his heighten'd soul inspires: +At once his arms and coursers he requires; +Then, with a leap, his lofty chariot gains, +And with a ready hand assumes the reins. +He drives impetuous, and, where'er he goes, +He leaves behind a lane of slaughter'd foes. +These his lance reaches; over those he rolls +His rapid car, and crushes out their souls: +In vain the vanquish'd fly; the victor sends +The dead men's weapons at their living friends. +Thus, on the banks of Hebrus' freezing flood, +The God of Battles, in his angry mood, +Clashing his sword against his brazen shield, +Let loose the reins, and scours along the field: +Before the wind his fiery coursers fly; +Groans the sad earth, resounds the rattling sky. +Wrath, Terror, Treason, Tumult, and Despair +(Dire faces, and deform'd) surround the car; +Friends of the god, and followers of the war. +With fury not unlike, nor less disdain, +Exulting Turnus flies along the plain: +His smoking horses, at their utmost speed, +He lashes on, and urges o'er the dead. +Their fetlocks run with blood; and, when they bound, +The gore and gath'ring dust are dash'd around. +Thamyris and Pholus, masters of the war, +He kill'd at hand, but Sthenelus afar: +From far the sons of Imbracus he slew, +Glaucus and Lades, of the Lycian crew; +Both taught to fight on foot, in battle join'd, +Or mount the courser that outstrips the wind. + +Meantime Eumedes, vaunting in the field, +New fir'd the Trojans, and their foes repell'd. +This son of Dolon bore his grandsire's name, +But emulated more his father's fame; +His guileful father, sent a nightly spy, +The Grecian camp and order to descry: +Hard enterprise! and well he might require +Achilles' car and horses, for his hire: +But, met upon the scout, th' Aetolian prince +In death bestow'd a juster recompense. +Fierce Turnus view'd the Trojan from afar, +And launch'd his jav'lin from his lofty car; +Then lightly leaping down, pursued the blow, +And, pressing with his foot his prostrate foe, +Wrench'd from his feeble hold the shining sword, +And plung'd it in the bosom of its lord. +"Possess," said he, "the fruit of all thy pains, +And measure, at thy length, our Latian plains. +Thus are my foes rewarded by my hand; +Thus may they build their town, and thus enjoy the land!" + +Then Dares, Butes, Sybaris he slew, +Whom o'er his neck his flound'ring courser threw. +As when loud Boreas, with his blust'ring train, +Stoops from above, incumbent on the main; +Where'er he flies, he drives the rack before, +And rolls the billows on th' Aegaean shore: +So, where resistless Turnus takes his course, +The scatter'd squadrons bend before his force; +His crest of horses' hair is blown behind +By adverse air, and rustles in the wind. + +This haughty Phegeus saw with high disdain, +And, as the chariot roll'd along the plain, +Light from the ground he leapt, and seiz'd the rein. +Thus hung in air, he still retain'd his hold, +The coursers frighted, and their course controll'd. +The lance of Turnus reach'd him as he hung, +And pierc'd his plated arms, but pass'd along, +And only raz'd the skin. He turn'd, and held +Against his threat'ning foe his ample shield; +Then call'd for aid: but, while he cried in vain, +The chariot bore him backward on the plain. +He lies revers'd; the victor king descends, +And strikes so justly where his helmet ends, +He lops the head. The Latian fields are drunk +With streams that issue from the bleeding trunk. + +While he triumphs, and while the Trojans yield, +The wounded prince is forc'd to leave the field: +Strong Mnestheus, and Achates often tried, +And young Ascanius, weeping by his side, +Conduct him to his tent. Scarce can he rear +His limbs from earth, supported on his spear. +Resolv'd in mind, regardless of the smart, +He tugs with both his hands, and breaks the dart. +The steel remains. No readier way he found +To draw the weapon, than t' inlarge the wound. +Eager of fight, impatient of delay, +He begs; and his unwilling friends obey. + +Iapis was at hand to prove his art, +Whose blooming youth so fir'd Apollo's heart, +That, for his love, he proffer'd to bestow +His tuneful harp and his unerring bow. +The pious youth, more studious how to save +His aged sire, now sinking to the grave, +Preferr'd the pow'r of plants, and silent praise +Of healing arts, before Phoebean bays. + +Propp'd on his lance the pensive hero stood, +And heard and saw, unmov'd, the mourning crowd. +The fam'd physician tucks his robes around +With ready hands, and hastens to the wound. +With gentle touches he performs his part, +This way and that, soliciting the dart, +And exercises all his heav'nly art. +All soft'ning simples, known of sov'reign use, +He presses out, and pours their noble juice. +These first infus'd, to lenify the pain, +He tugs with pincers, but he tugs in vain. +Then to the patron of his art he pray'd: +The patron of his art refus'd his aid. + +Meantime the war approaches to the tents; +Th' alarm grows hotter, and the noise augments: +The driving dust proclaims the danger near; +And first their friends, and then their foes appear: +Their friends retreat; their foes pursue the rear. +The camp is fill'd with terror and affright: +The hissing shafts within the trench alight; +An undistinguish'd noise ascends the sky, +The shouts those who kill, and groans of those who die. + +But now the goddess mother, mov'd with grief, +And pierc'd with pity, hastens her relief. +A branch of healing dittany she brought, +Which in the Cretan fields with care she sought: +Rough is the stern, which woolly leafs surround; +The leafs with flow'rs, the flow'rs with purple crown'd, +Well known to wounded goats; a sure relief +To draw the pointed steel, and ease the grief. +This Venus brings, in clouds involv'd, and brews +Th' extracted liquor with ambrosian dews, +And odorous panacee. Unseen she stands, +Temp'ring the mixture with her heav'nly hands, +And pours it in a bowl, already crown'd +With juice of med'c'nal herbs prepar'd to bathe the wound. +The leech, unknowing of superior art +Which aids the cure, with this foments the part; +And in a moment ceas'd the raging smart. +Stanch'd is the blood, and in the bottom stands: +The steel, but scarcely touch'd with tender hands, +Moves up, and follows of its own accord, +And health and vigor are at once restor'd. +Iapis first perceiv'd the closing wound, +And first the footsteps of a god he found. +"Arms! arms!" he cries; "the sword and shield prepare, +And send the willing chief, renew'd, to war. +This is no mortal work, no cure of mine, +Nor art's effect, but done by hands divine. +Some god our general to the battle sends; +Some god preserves his life for greater ends." + +The hero arms in haste; his hands infold +His thighs with cuishes of refulgent gold: +Inflam'd to fight, and rushing to the field, +That hand sustaining the celestial shield, +This gripes the lance, and with such vigor shakes, +That to the rest the beamy weapon quakes. +Then with a close embrace he strain'd his son, +And, kissing thro' his helmet, thus begun: +"My son, from my example learn the war, +In camps to suffer, and in fields to dare; +But happier chance than mine attend thy care! +This day my hand thy tender age shall shield, +And crown with honors of the conquer'd field: +Thou, when thy riper years shall send thee forth +To toils of war, be mindful of my worth; +Assert thy birthright, and in arms be known, +For Hector's nephew, and Aeneas' son." +He said; and, striding, issued on the plain. +Anteus and Mnestheus, and a num'rous train, +Attend his steps; the rest their weapons take, +And, crowding to the field, the camp forsake. +A cloud of blinding dust is rais'd around, +Labors beneath their feet the trembling ground. + +Now Turnus, posted on a hill, from far +Beheld the progress of the moving war: +With him the Latins view'd the cover'd plains, +And the chill blood ran backward in their veins. +Juturna saw th' advancing troops appear, +And heard the hostile sound, and fled for fear. +Aeneas leads; and draws a sweeping train, +Clos'd in their ranks, and pouring on the plain. +As when a whirlwind, rushing to the shore +From the mid ocean, drives the waves before; +The painful hind with heavy heart foresees +The flatted fields, and slaughter of the trees; +With like impetuous rage the prince appears +Before his doubled front, nor less destruction bears. +And now both armies shock in open field; +Osiris is by strong Thymbraeus kill'd. +Archetius, Ufens, Epulon, are slain +(All fam'd in arms, and of the Latian train) +By Gyas', Mnestheus', and Achates' hand. +The fatal augur falls, by whose command +The truce was broken, and whose lance, embrued +With Trojan blood, th' unhappy fight renew'd. +Loud shouts and clamors rend the liquid sky, +And o'er the field the frighted Latins fly. +The prince disdains the dastards to pursue, +Nor moves to meet in arms the fighting few; +Turnus alone, amid the dusky plain, +He seeks, and to the combat calls in vain. +Juturna heard, and, seiz'd with mortal fear, +Forc'd from the beam her brother's charioteer; +Assumes his shape, his armor, and his mien, +And, like Metiscus, in his seat is seen. + +As the black swallow near the palace plies; +O'er empty courts, and under arches, flies; +Now hawks aloft, now skims along the flood, +To furnish her loquacious nest with food: +So drives the rapid goddess o'er the plains; +The smoking horses run with loosen'd reins. +She steers a various course among the foes; +Now here, now there, her conqu'ring brother shows; +Now with a straight, now with a wheeling flight, +She turns, and bends, but shuns the single fight. +Aeneas, fir'd with fury, breaks the crowd, +And seeks his foe, and calls by name aloud: +He runs within a narrower ring, and tries +To stop the chariot; but the chariot flies. +If he but gain a glimpse, Juturna fears, +And far away the Daunian hero bears. + +What should he do! Nor arts nor arms avail; +And various cares in vain his mind assail. +The great Messapus, thund'ring thro' the field, +In his left hand two pointed jav'lins held: +Encount'ring on the prince, one dart he drew, +And with unerring aim and utmost vigor threw. +Aeneas saw it come, and, stooping low +Beneath his buckler, shunn'd the threat'ning blow. +The weapon hiss'd above his head, and tore +The waving plume which on his helm he wore. +Forced by this hostile act, and fir'd with spite, +That flying Turnus still declin'd the fight, +The Prince, whose piety had long repell'd +His inborn ardor, now invades the field; +Invokes the pow'rs of violated peace, +Their rites and injur'd altars to redress; +Then, to his rage abandoning the rein, +With blood and slaughter'd bodies fills the plain. + +What god can tell, what numbers can display, +The various labors of that fatal day; +What chiefs and champions fell on either side, +In combat slain, or by what deaths they died; +Whom Turnus, whom the Trojan hero kill'd; +Who shar'd the fame and fortune of the field! +Jove, could'st thou view, and not avert thy sight, +Two jarring nations join'd in cruel fight, +Whom leagues of lasting love so shortly shall unite! + +Aeneas first Rutulian Sucro found, +Whose valor made the Trojans quit their ground; +Betwixt his ribs the jav'lin drove so just, +It reach'd his heart, nor needs a second thrust. +Now Turnus, at two blows, two brethren slew; +First from his horse fierce Amycus he threw: +Then, leaping on the ground, on foot assail'd +Diores, and in equal fight prevail'd. +Their lifeless trunks he leaves upon the place; +Their heads, distilling gore, his chariot grace. + +Three cold on earth the Trojan hero threw, +Whom without respite at one charge he slew: +Cethegus, Tanais, Tagus, fell oppress'd, +And sad Onythes, added to the rest, +Of Theban blood, whom Peridia bore. + +Turnus two brothers from the Lycian shore, +And from Apollo's fane to battle sent, +O'erthrew; nor Phoebus could their fate prevent. +Peaceful Menoetes after these he kill'd, +Who long had shunn'd the dangers of the field: +On Lerna's lake a silent life he led, +And with his nets and angle earn'd his bread; +Nor pompous cares, nor palaces, he knew, +But wisely from th' infectious world withdrew: +Poor was his house; his father's painful hand +Discharg'd his rent, and plow'd another's land. + +As flames among the lofty woods are thrown +On diff'rent sides, and both by winds are blown; +The laurels crackle in the sputt'ring fire; +The frighted sylvans from their shades retire: +Or as two neighb'ring torrents fall from high; +Rapid they run; the foamy waters fry; +They roll to sea with unresisted force, +And down the rocks precipitate their course: +Not with less rage the rival heroes take +Their diff'rent ways, nor less destruction make. +With spears afar, with swords at hand, they strike; +And zeal of slaughter fires their souls alike. +Like them, their dauntless men maintain the field; +And hearts are pierc'd, unknowing how to yield: +They blow for blow return, and wound for wound; +And heaps of bodies raise the level ground. + +Murranus, boasting of his blood, that springs +From a long royal race of Latian kings, +Is by the Trojan from his chariot thrown, +Crush'd with the weight of an unwieldy stone: +Betwixt the wheels he fell; the wheels, that bore +His living load, his dying body tore. +His starting steeds, to shun the glitt'ring sword, +Paw down his trampled limbs, forgetful of their lord. + +Fierce Hyllus threaten'd high, and, face to face, +Affronted Turnus in the middle space: +The prince encounter'd him in full career, +And at his temples aim'd the deadly spear; +So fatally the flying weapon sped, +That thro' his helm it pierc'd his head. +Nor, Cisseus, couldst thou scape from Turnus' hand, +In vain the strongest of th' Arcadian band: +Nor to Cupentus could his gods afford +Availing aid against th' Aenean sword, +Which to his naked heart pursued the course; +Nor could his plated shield sustain the force. + +Iolas fell, whom not the Grecian pow'rs, +Nor great subverter of the Trojan tow'rs, +Were doom'd to kill, while Heav'n prolong'd his date; +But who can pass the bounds, prefix'd by fate? +In high Lyrnessus, and in Troy, he held +Two palaces, and was from each expell'd: +Of all the mighty man, the last remains +A little spot of foreign earth contains. + +And now both hosts their broken troops unite +In equal ranks, and mix in mortal fight. +Seresthus and undaunted Mnestheus join +The Trojan, Tuscan, and Arcadian line: +Sea-born Messapus, with Atinas, heads +The Latin squadrons, and to battle leads. +They strike, they push, they throng the scanty space, +Resolv'd on death, impatient of disgrace; +And, where one falls, another fills his place. + +The Cyprian goddess now inspires her son +To leave th' unfinish'd fight, and storm the town: +For, while he rolls his eyes around the plain +In quest of Turnus, whom he seeks in vain, +He views th' unguarded city from afar, +In careless quiet, and secure of war. +Occasion offers, and excites his mind +To dare beyond the task he first design'd. +Resolv'd, he calls his chiefs; they leave the fight: +Attended thus, he takes a neighb'ring height; +The crowding troops about their gen'ral stand, +All under arms, and wait his high command. +Then thus the lofty prince: "Hear and obey, +Ye Trojan bands, without the least delay +Jove is with us; and what I have decreed +Requires our utmost vigor, and our speed. +Your instant arms against the town prepare, +The source of mischief, and the seat of war. +This day the Latian tow'rs, that mate the sky, +Shall level with the plain in ashes lie: +The people shall be slaves, unless in time +They kneel for pardon, and repent their crime. +Twice have our foes been vanquish'd on the plain: +Then shall I wait till Turnus will be slain? +Your force against the perjur'd city bend. +There it began, and there the war shall end. +The peace profan'd our rightful arms requires; +Cleanse the polluted place with purging fires." + +He finish'd; and, one soul inspiring all, +Form'd in a wedge, the foot approach the wall. +Without the town, an unprovided train +Of gaping, gazing citizens are slain. +Some firebrands, others scaling ladders bear, +And those they toss aloft, and these they rear: +The flames now launch'd, the feather'd arrows fly, +And clouds of missive arms obscure the sky. +Advancing to the front, the hero stands, +And, stretching out to heav'n his pious hands, +Attests the gods, asserts his innocence, +Upbraids with breach of faith th' Ausonian prince; +Declares the royal honor doubly stain'd, +And twice the rites of holy peace profan'd. + +Dissenting clamors in the town arise; +Each will be heard, and all at once advise. +One part for peace, and one for war contends; +Some would exclude their foes, and some admit their friends. +The helpless king is hurried in the throng, +And, whate'er tide prevails, is borne along. +Thus, when the swain, within a hollow rock, +Invades the bees with suffocating smoke, +They run around, or labor on their wings, +Disus'd to flight, and shoot their sleepy stings; +To shun the bitter fumes in vain they try; +Black vapors, issuing from the vent, involve the sky. + +But fate and envious fortune now prepare +To plunge the Latins in the last despair. +The queen, who saw the foes invade the town, +And brands on tops of burning houses thrown, +Cast round her eyes, distracted with her fear- +No troops of Turnus in the field appear. +Once more she stares abroad, but still in vain, +And then concludes the royal youth is slain. +Mad with her anguish, impotent to bear +The mighty grief, she loathes the vital air. +She calls herself the cause of all this ill, +And owns the dire effects of her ungovern'd will; +She raves against the gods; she beats her breast; +She tears with both her hands her purple vest: +Then round a beam a running noose she tied, +And, fasten'd by the neck, obscenely died. + +Soon as the fatal news by Fame was blown, +And to her dames and to her daughter known, +The sad Lavinia rends her yellow hair +And rosy cheeks; the rest her sorrow share: +With shrieks the palace rings, and madness of despair. +The spreading rumor fills the public place: +Confusion, fear, distraction, and disgrace, +And silent shame, are seen in ev'ry face. +Latinus tears his garments as he goes, +Both for his public and his private woes; +With filth his venerable beard besmears, +And sordid dust deforms his silver hairs. +And much he blames the softness of his mind, +Obnoxious to the charms of womankind, +And soon seduc'd to change what he so well design'd; +To break the solemn league so long desir'd, +Nor finish what his fates, and those of Troy, requir'd. + +Now Turnus rolls aloof o'er empty plains, +And here and there some straggling foes he gleans. +His flying coursers please him less and less, +Asham'd of easy fight and cheap success. +Thus half-contented, anxious in his mind, +The distant cries come driving in the wind, +Shouts from the walls, but shouts in murmurs drown'd; +A jarring mixture, and a boding sound. +"Alas!" said he, "what mean these dismal cries? +What doleful clamors from the town arise?" +Confus'd, he stops, and backward pulls the reins. +She who the driver's office now sustains, +Replies: "Neglect, my lord, these new alarms; +Here fight, and urge the fortune of your arms: +There want not others to defend the wall. +If by your rival's hand th' Italians fall, +So shall your fatal sword his friends oppress, +In honor equal, equal in success." + +To this, the prince: "O sister- for I knew +The peace infring'd proceeded first from you; +I knew you, when you mingled first in fight; +And now in vain you would deceive my sight- +Why, goddess, this unprofitable care? +Who sent you down from heav'n, involv'd in air, +Your share of mortal sorrows to sustain, +And see your brother bleeding on the plain? +For to what pow'r can Turnus have recourse, +Or how resist his fate's prevailing force? +These eyes beheld Murranus bite the ground: +Mighty the man, and mighty was the wound. +I heard my dearest friend, with dying breath, +My name invoking to revenge his death. +Brave Ufens fell with honor on the place, +To shun the shameful sight of my disgrace. +On earth supine, a manly corpse he lies; +His vest and armor are the victor's prize. +Then, shall I see Laurentum in a flame, +Which only wanted, to complete my shame? +How will the Latins hoot their champion's flight! +How Drances will insult and point them to the sight! +Is death so hard to bear? Ye gods below, +(Since those above so small compassion show,) +Receive a soul unsullied yet with shame, +Which not belies my great forefather's name!" + +He said; and while he spoke, with flying speed +Came Sages urging on his foamy steed: +Fix'd on his wounded face a shaft he bore, +And, seeking Turnus, sent his voice before: +"Turnus, on you, on you alone, depends +Our last relief: compassionate your friends! +Like lightning, fierce Aeneas, rolling on, +With arms invests, with flames invades the town: +The brands are toss'd on high; the winds conspire +To drive along the deluge of the fire. +All eyes are fix'd on you: your foes rejoice; +Ev'n the king staggers, and suspends his choice; +Doubts to deliver or defend the town, +Whom to reject, or whom to call his son. +The queen, on whom your utmost hopes were plac'd, +Herself suborning death, has breath'd her last. +'T is true, Messapus, fearless of his fate, +With fierce Atinas' aid, defends the gate: +On ev'ry side surrounded by the foe, +The more they kill, the greater numbers grow; +An iron harvest mounts, and still remains to mow. +You, far aloof from your forsaken bands, +Your rolling chariot drive o'er empty + +Stupid he sate, his eyes on earth declin'd, +And various cares revolving in his mind: +Rage, boiling from the bottom of his breast, +And sorrow mix'd with shame, his soul oppress'd; +And conscious worth lay lab'ring in his thought, +And love by jealousy to madness wrought. +By slow degrees his reason drove away +The mists of passion, and resum'd her sway. +Then, rising on his car, he turn'd his look, +And saw the town involv'd in fire and smoke. +A wooden tow'r with flames already blaz'd, +Which his own hands on beams and rafters rais'd; +And bridges laid above to join the space, +And wheels below to roll from place to place. +"Sister, the Fates have vanquish'd: let us go +The way which Heav'n and my hard fortune show. +The fight is fix'd; nor shall the branded name +Of a base coward blot your brother's fame. +Death is my choice; but suffer me to try +My force, and vent my rage before I die." +He said; and, leaping down without delay, +Thro' crowds of scatter'd foes he freed his way. +Striding he pass'd, impetuous as the wind, +And left the grieving goddess far behind. +As when a fragment, from a mountain torn +By raging tempests, or by torrents borne, +Or sapp'd by time, or loosen'd from the roots- +Prone thro' the void the rocky ruin shoots, +Rolling from crag to crag, from steep to steep; +Down sink, at once, the shepherds and their sheep: +Involv'd alike, they rush to nether ground; +Stunn'd with the shock they fall, and stunn'd from earth rebound: +So Turnus, hasting headlong to the town, +Should'ring and shoving, bore the squadrons down. +Still pressing onward, to the walls he drew, +Where shafts, and spears, and darts promiscuous flew, +And sanguine streams the slipp'ry ground embrue. +First stretching out his arm, in sign of peace, +He cries aloud, to make the combat cease: +"Rutulians, hold; and Latin troops, retire! +The fight is mine; and me the gods require. +'T is just that I should vindicate alone +The broken truce, or for the breach atone. +This day shall free from wars th' Ausonian state, +Or finish my misfortunes in my fate." + +Both armies from their bloody work desist, +And, bearing backward, form a spacious list. +The Trojan hero, who receiv'd from fame +The welcome sound, and heard the champion's name, +Soon leaves the taken works and mounted walls, +Greedy of war where greater glory calls. +He springs to fight, exulting in his force +His jointed armor rattles in the course. +Like Eryx, or like Athos, great he shows, +Or Father Apennine, when, white with snows, +His head divine obscure in clouds he hides, +And shakes the sounding forest on his sides. +The nations, overaw'd, surcease the fight; +Immovable their bodies, fix'd their sight. +Ev'n death stands still; nor from above they throw +Their darts, nor drive their batt'ring-rams below. +In silent order either army stands, +And drop their swords, unknowing, from their hands. +Th' Ausonian king beholds, with wond'ring sight, +Two mighty champions match'd in single fight, +Born under climes remote, and brought by fate, +With swords to try their titles to the state. + +Now, in clos'd field, each other from afar +They view; and, rushing on, begin the war. +They launch their spears; then hand to hand they meet; +The trembling soil resounds beneath their feet: +Their bucklers clash; thick blows descend from high, +And flakes of fire from their hard helmets fly. +Courage conspires with chance, and both ingage +With equal fortune yet, and mutual rage. +As when two bulls for their fair female fight +In Sila's shades, or on Taburnus' height; +With horns adverse they meet; the keeper flies; +Mute stands the herd; the heifers roll their eyes, +And wait th' event; which victor they shall bear, +And who shall be the lord, to rule the lusty year: +With rage of love the jealous rivals burn, +And push for push, and wound for wound return; +Their dewlaps gor'd, their sides are lav'd in blood; +Loud cries and roaring sounds rebellow thro' the wood: +Such was the combat in the listed ground; +So clash their swords, and so their shields resound. + +Jove sets the beam; in either scale he lays +The champions' fate, and each exactly weighs. +On this side, life and lucky chance ascends; +Loaded with death, that other scale descends. +Rais'd on the stretch, young Turnus aims a blow +Full on the helm of his unguarded foe: +Shrill shouts and clamors ring on either side, +As hopes and fears their panting hearts divide. +But all in pieces flies the traitor sword, +And, in the middle stroke, deserts his lord. +Now is but death, or flight; disarm'd he flies, +When in his hand an unknown hilt he spies. +Fame says that Turnus, when his steeds he join'd, +Hurrying to war, disorder'd in his mind, +Snatch'd the first weapon which his haste could find. +'T was not the fated sword his father bore, +But that his charioteer Metiscus wore. +This, while the Trojans fled, the toughness held; +But, vain against the great Vulcanian shield, +The mortal-temper'd steel deceiv'd his hand: +The shiver'd fragments shone amid the sand. + +Surpris'd with fear, he fled along the field, +And now forthright, and now in orbits wheel'd; +For here the Trojan troops the list surround, +And there the pass is clos'd with pools and marshy ground. +Aeneas hastens, tho' with heavier pace- +His wound, so newly knit, retards the chase, +And oft his trembling knees their aid refuse- +Yet, pressing foot by foot, his foe pursues. + +Thus, when a fearful stag is clos'd around +With crimson toils, or in a river found, +High on the bank the deep-mouth'd hound appears, +Still opening, following still, where'er he steers; +The persecuted creature, to and fro, +Turns here and there, to scape his Umbrian foe: +Steep is th' ascent, and, if he gains the land, +The purple death is pitch'd along the strand. +His eager foe, determin'd to the chase, +Stretch'd at his length, gains ground at ev'ry pace; +Now to his beamy head he makes his way, +And now he holds, or thinks he holds, his prey: +Just at the pinch, the stag springs out with fear; +He bites the wind, and fills his sounding jaws with air: +The rocks, the lakes, the meadows ring with cries; +The mortal tumult mounts, and thunders in the skies. +Thus flies the Daunian prince, and, flying, blames +His tardy troops, and, calling by their names, +Demands his trusty sword. The Trojan threats +The realm with ruin, and their ancient seats +To lay in ashes, if they dare supply +With arms or aid his vanquish'd enemy: +Thus menacing, he still pursues the course, +With vigor, tho' diminish'd of his force. +Ten times already round the listed place +One chief had fled, and t' other giv'n the chase: +No trivial prize is play'd; for on the life +Or death of Turnus now depends the strife. + +Within the space, an olive tree had stood, +A sacred shade, a venerable wood, +For vows to Faunus paid, the Latins' guardian god. +Here hung the vests, and tablets were ingrav'd, +Of sinking mariners from shipwrack sav'd. +With heedless hands the Trojans fell'd the tree, +To make the ground inclos'd for combat free. +Deep in the root, whether by fate, or chance, +Or erring haste, the Trojan drove his lance; +Then stoop'd, and tugg'd with force immense, to free +Th' incumber'd spear from the tenacious tree; +That, whom his fainting limbs pursued in vain, +His flying weapon might from far attain. + +Confus'd with fear, bereft of human aid, +Then Turnus to the gods, and first to Faunus pray'd: +"O Faunus, pity! and thou Mother Earth, +Where I thy foster son receiv'd my birth, +Hold fast the steel! If my religious hand +Your plant has honor'd, which your foes profan'd, +Propitious hear my pious pray'r!" He said, +Nor with successless vows invok'd their aid. +Th' incumbent hero wrench'd, and pull'd, and strain'd; +But still the stubborn earth the steel detain'd. +Juturna took her time; and, while in vain +He strove, assum'd Meticus' form again, +And, in that imitated shape, restor'd +To the despairing prince his Daunian sword. +The Queen of Love, who, with disdain and grief, +Saw the bold nymph afford this prompt relief, +T' assert her offspring with a greater deed, +From the tough root the ling'ring weapon freed. + +Once more erect, the rival chiefs advance: +One trusts the sword, and one the pointed lance; +And both resolv'd alike to try their fatal chance. + +Meantime imperial Jove to Juno spoke, +Who from a shining cloud beheld the shock: +"What new arrest, O Queen of Heav'n, is sent +To stop the Fates now lab'ring in th' event? +What farther hopes are left thee to pursue? +Divine Aeneas, (and thou know'st it too,) +Foredoom'd, to these celestial seats are due. +What more attempts for Turnus can be made, +That thus thou ling'rest in this lonely shade? +Is it becoming of the due respect +And awful honor of a god elect, +A wound unworthy of our state to feel, +Patient of human hands and earthly steel? +Or seems it just, the sister should restore +A second sword, when one was lost before, +And arm a conquer'd wretch against his conqueror? +For what, without thy knowledge and avow, +Nay more, thy dictate, durst Juturna do? +At last, in deference to my love, forbear +To lodge within thy soul this anxious care; +Reclin'd upon my breast, thy grief unload: +Who should relieve the goddess, but the god? +Now all things to their utmost issue tend, +Push'd by the Fates to their appointed +While leave was giv'n thee, and a lawful hour +For vengeance, wrath, and unresisted pow'r, +Toss'd on the seas, thou couldst thy foes distress, +And, driv'n ashore, with hostile arms oppress; +Deform the royal house; and, from the side +Of the just bridegroom, tear the plighted bride: +Now cease at my command." The Thund'rer said; +And, with dejected eyes, this answer Juno made: +"Because your dread decree too well I knew, +From Turnus and from earth unwilling I withdrew. +Else should you not behold me here, alone, +Involv'd in empty clouds, my friends bemoan, +But, girt with vengeful flames, in open sight +Engag'd against my foes in mortal fight. +'T is true, Juturna mingled in the strife +By my command, to save her brother's life- +At least to try; but, by the Stygian lake, +(The most religious oath the gods can take,) +With this restriction, not to bend the bow, +Or toss the spear, or trembling dart to throw. +And now, resign'd to your superior might, +And tir'd with fruitless toils, I loathe the fight. +This let me beg (and this no fates withstand) +Both for myself and for your father's land, +That, when the nuptial bed shall bind the peace, +(Which I, since you ordain, consent to bless,) +The laws of either nation be the same; +But let the Latins still retain their name, +Speak the same language which they spoke before, +Wear the same habits which their grandsires wore. +Call them not Trojans: perish the renown +And name of Troy, with that detested town. +Latium be Latium still; let Alba reign +And Rome's immortal majesty remain." + +Then thus the founder of mankind replies +(Unruffled was his front, serene his eyes) +"Can Saturn's issue, and heav'n's other heir, +Such endless anger in her bosom bear? +Be mistress, and your full desires obtain; +But quench the choler you foment in vain. +From ancient blood th' Ausonian people sprung, +Shall keep their name, their habit, and their tongue. +The Trojans to their customs shall be tied: +I will, myself, their common rites provide; +The natives shall command, the foreigners subside. +All shall be Latium; Troy without a name; +And her lost sons forget from whence they came. +From blood so mix'd, a pious race shall flow, +Equal to gods, excelling all below. +No nation more respect to you shall pay, +Or greater off'rings on your altars lay." +Juno consents, well pleas'd that her desires +Had found success, and from the cloud retires. + +The peace thus made, the Thund'rer next prepares +To force the wat'ry goddess from the wars. +Deep in the dismal regions void of light, +Three daughters at a birth were born to Night: +These their brown mother, brooding on her care, +Indued with windy wings to flit in air, +With serpents girt alike, and crown'd with hissing hair. +In heav'n the Dirae call'd, and still at hand, +Before the throne of angry Jove they stand, +His ministers of wrath, and ready still +The minds of mortal men with fears to fill, +Whene'er the moody sire, to wreak his hate +On realms or towns deserving of their fate, +Hurls down diseases, death and deadly care, +And terrifies the guilty world with war. +One sister plague if these from heav'n he sent, +To fright Juturna with a dire portent. +The pest comes whirling down: by far more slow +Springs the swift arrow from the Parthian bow, +Or Cydon yew, when, traversing the skies, +And drench'd in pois'nous juice, the sure destruction flies. +With such a sudden and unseen a flight +Shot thro' the clouds the daughter of the night. +Soon as the field inclos'd she had in view, +And from afar her destin'd quarry knew, +Contracted, to the boding bird she turns, +Which haunts the ruin'd piles and hallow'd urns, +And beats about the tombs with nightly wings, +Where songs obscene on sepulchers she sings. +Thus lessen'd in her form, with frightful cries +The Fury round unhappy Turnus flies, +Flaps on his shield, and flutters o'er his eyes. + +A lazy chillness crept along his blood; +Chok'd was his voice; his hair with horror stood. +Juturna from afar beheld her fly, +And knew th' ill omen, by her screaming cry +And stridor of her wings. Amaz'd with fear, +Her beauteous breast she beat, and rent her flowing hair. + +"Ah me!" she cries, "in this unequal strife +What can thy sister more to save thy life? +Weak as I am, can I, alas! contend +In arms with that inexorable fiend? +Now, now, I quit the field! forbear to fright +My tender soul, ye baleful birds of night; +The lashing of your wings I know too well, +The sounding flight, and fun'ral screams of hell! +These are the gifts you bring from haughty Jove, +The worthy recompense of ravish'd love! +Did he for this exempt my life from fate? +O hard conditions of immortal state, +Tho' born to death, not privileg'd to die, +But forc'd to bear impos'd eternity! +Take back your envious bribes, and let me go +Companion to my brother's ghost below! +The joys are vanish'd: nothing now remains, +Of life immortal, but immortal pains. +What earth will open her devouring womb, +To rest a weary goddess in the tomb!" +She drew a length of sighs; nor more she said, +But in her azure mantle wrapp'd her head, +Then plung'd into her stream, with deep despair, +And her last sobs came bubbling up in air. + +Now stern Aeneas his weighty spear +Against his foe, and thus upbraids his fear: +"What farther subterfuge can Turnus find? +What empty hopes are harbor'd in his mind? +'T is not thy swiftness can secure thy flight; +Not with their feet, but hands, the valiant fight. +Vary thy shape in thousand forms, and dare +What skill and courage can attempt in war; +Wish for the wings of winds, to mount the sky; +Or hid, within the hollow earth to lie!" +The champion shook his head, and made this short reply: +"No threats of thine my manly mind can move; +'T is hostile heav'n I dread, and partial Jove." +He said no more, but, with a sigh, repress'd +The mighty sorrow in his swelling breast. + +Then, as he roll'd his troubled eyes around, +An antique stone he saw, the common bound +Of neighb'ring fields, and barrier of the ground; +So vast, that twelve strong men of modern days +Th' enormous weight from earth could hardly raise. +He heav'd it at a lift, and, pois'd on high, +Ran stagg'ring on against his enemy, +But so disorder'd, that he scarcely knew +His way, or what unwieldly weight he threw. +His knocking knees are bent beneath the load, +And shiv'ring cold congeals his vital blood. +The stone drops from his arms, and, falling short +For want of vigor, mocks his vain effort. +And as, when heavy sleep has clos'd the sight, +The sickly fancy labors in the night; +We seem to run; and, destitute of force, +Our sinking limbs forsake us in the course: +In vain we heave for breath; in vain we cry; +The nerves, unbrac'd, their usual strength deny; +And on the tongue the falt'ring accents die: +So Turnus far'd; whatever means he tried, +All force of arms and points of art employ'd, +The Fury flew athwart, and made th' endeavor void. + +A thousand various thoughts his soul confound; +He star'd about, nor aid nor issue found; +His own men stop the pass, and his own walls surround. +Once more he pauses, and looks out again, +And seeks the goddess charioteer in vain. +Trembling he views the thund'ring chief advance, +And brandishing aloft the deadly lance: +Amaz'd he cow'rs beneath his conqu'ring foe, +Forgets to ward, and waits the coming blow. +Astonish'd while he stands, and fix'd with fear, +Aim'd at his shield he sees th' impending spear. + +The hero measur'd first, with narrow view, +The destin'd mark; and, rising as he threw, +With its full swing the fatal weapon flew. +Not with less rage the rattling thunder falls, +Or stones from batt'ring-engines break the walls: +Swift as a whirlwind, from an arm so strong, +The lance drove on, and bore the death along. +Naught could his sev'nfold shield the prince avail, +Nor aught, beneath his arms, the coat of mail: +It pierc'd thro' all, and with a grisly wound +Transfix'd his thigh, and doubled him to ground. +With groans the Latins rend the vaulted sky: +Woods, hills, and valleys, to the voice reply. + +Now low on earth the lofty chief is laid, +With eyes cast upward, and with arms display'd, +And, recreant, thus to the proud victor pray'd: +"I know my death deserv'd, nor hope to live: +Use what the gods and thy good fortune give. +Yet think, O think, if mercy may be shown- +Thou hadst a father once, and hast a son- +Pity my sire, now sinking to the grave; +And for Anchises' sake old Daunus save! +Or, if thy vow'd revenge pursue my death, +Give to my friends my body void of breath! +The Latian chiefs have seen me beg my life; +Thine is the conquest, thine the royal wife: +Against a yielded man, 't is mean ignoble strife." + +In deep suspense the Trojan seem'd to stand, +And, just prepar'd to strike, repress'd his hand. +He roll'd his eyes, and ev'ry moment felt +His manly soul with more compassion melt; +When, casting down a casual glance, he spied +The golden belt that glitter'd on his side, +The fatal spoils which haughty Turnus tore +From dying Pallas, and in triumph wore. +Then, rous'd anew to wrath, he loudly cries +(Flames, while he spoke, came flashing from his eyes) +"Traitor, dost thou, dost thou to grace pretend, +Clad, as thou art, in trophies of my friend? +To his sad soul a grateful off'ring go! +'T is Pallas, Pallas gives this deadly blow." +He rais'd his arm aloft, and, at the word, +Deep in his bosom drove the shining sword. +The streaming blood distain'd his arms around, +And the disdainful soul came rushing thro' the wound. + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Aeneid, in English + + |