Aeneis
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1.1.1
Arms and the man I sing, who first made way,
1.1.2
predestined exile, from the Trojan shore
1.1.3
to Italy, the blest Lavinian strand.
1.1.4
Smitten of storms he was on land and sea
1.1.5
by violence of Heaven, to satisfy
1.1.6
stern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war
1.1.7
he suffered, seeking at the last to found
1.1.8
the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods
1.1.9
to safe abode in Latium; whence arose
1.1.10
the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords,
1.1.11
and from her hills wide-walled, imperial Rome.
1.8.12
O Muse, the causes tell! What sacrilege,
1.8.13
or vengeful sorrow, moved the heavenly Queen
1.8.14
to thrust on dangers dark and endless toil
1.8.15
a man whose largest honor in men's eyes
1.8.16
was serving Heaven? Can gods such anger feel?
1.12.17
In ages gone an ancient city stood—
1.12.18
Carthage, a Tyrian seat, which from afar
1.12.19
made front on Italy and on the mouths
1.12.20
of Tiber's stream; its wealth and revenues
1.12.21
were vast, and ruthless was its quest of war.
1.12.22
'T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved,
1.12.23
most cherished this,—not Samos' self so dear.
1.12.24
Here were her arms, her chariot; even then
1.12.25
a throne of power o'er nations near and far,
1.12.26
if Fate opposed not, 't was her darling hope
1.12.27
to 'stablish here; but anxiously she heard
1.12.28
that of the Trojan blood there was a breed
1.12.29
then rising, which upon the destined day
1.12.30
should utterly o'erwhelm her Tyrian towers,
1.12.31
a people of wide sway and conquest proud
1.12.32
should compass Libya's doom;—such was the web
1.12.33
the Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fear
1.12.34
of Saturn's daughter, who remembered well
1.12.35
what long and unavailing strife she waged
1.12.36
for her loved Greeks at Troy. Nor did she fail
1.12.37
to meditate th' occasions of her rage,
1.12.38
and cherish deep within her bosom proud
1.12.39
its griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made;
1.12.40
her scorned and slighted beauty; a whole race
1.12.41
rebellious to her godhead; and Jove's smile
1.12.42
that beamed on eagle-ravished Ganymede.
1.12.43
With all these thoughts infuriate, her power
1.12.44
pursued with tempests o'er the boundless main
1.12.45
the Trojans, though by Grecian victor spared
1.12.46
and fierce Achilles; so she thrust them far
1.12.47
from Latium; and they drifted, Heaven-impelled,
1.12.48
year after year, o'er many an unknown sea—
1.12.49
O labor vast, to found the Roman line!
1.34.50
Below th' horizon the Sicilian isle
1.34.51
just sank from view, as for the open sea
1.34.52
with heart of hope they sailed, and every ship
1.34.53
clove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves.
1.34.54
But Juno of her everlasting wound
1.34.55
knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain
1.34.56
thus darkly mused: “Must I, defeated, fail
1.34.57
of what I will, nor turn the Teucrian King
1.34.58
from Italy away? Can Fate oppose?
1.34.59
Had Pallas power to lay waste in flame
1.34.60
the Argive fleet and sink its mariners,
1.34.61
revenging but the sacrilege obscene
1.34.62
by Ajax wrought, Oileus' desperate son?
1.34.63
She, from the clouds, herself Jove's lightning threw,
1.34.64
scattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms.
1.34.65
Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire,
1.34.66
in whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung.
1.34.67
But I, who move among the gods a queen,
1.34.68
Jove's sister and his spouse, with one weak tribe
1.34.69
make war so long! Who now on Juno calls?
1.34.70
What suppliant gifts henceforth her altars crown?”
1.50.71
So, in her fevered heart complaining still,
1.50.72
unto the storm-cloud land the goddess came,
1.50.73
a region with wild whirlwinds in its womb,
1.50.74
Aeolia named, where royal Aeolus
1.50.75
in a high-vaulted cavern keeps control
1.50.76
o'er warring winds and loud concourse of storms.
1.50.77
There closely pent in chains and bastions strong,
1.50.78
they, scornful, make the vacant mountain roar,
1.50.79
chafing against their bonds. But from a throne
1.50.80
of lofty crag, their king with sceptred hand
1.50.81
allays their fury and their rage confines.
1.50.82
Did he not so, our ocean, earth, and sky
1.50.83
were whirled before them through the vast inane.
1.50.84
But over-ruling Jove, of this in fear,
1.50.85
hid them in dungeon dark: then o'er them piled
1.50.86
huge mountains, and ordained a lawful king
1.50.87
to hold them in firm sway, or know what time,
1.50.88
with Jove's consent, to loose them o'er the world.
1.50.89
To him proud Juno thus made lowly plea:
1.65.90
“Thou in whose hands the Father of all gods
1.65.91
and Sovereign of mankind confides the power
1.65.92
to calm the waters or with winds upturn,
1.65.93
great Aeolus! a race with me at war
1.65.94
now sails the Tuscan main towards Italy,
1.65.95
bringing their Ilium and its vanquished powers.
1.65.96
Uprouse thy gales. Strike that proud navy down!
1.65.97
Hurl far and wide, and strew the waves with dead!
1.65.98
Twice seven nymphs are mine, of rarest mould;
1.65.99
of whom Deiopea, the most fair,
1.65.100
I give thee in true wedlock for thine own,
1.65.101
to mate thy noble worth; she at thy side
1.65.102
shall pass long, happy years, and fruitful bring
1.65.103
her beauteous offspring unto thee their sire.”
1.76.104
Then Aeolus: “'T is thy sole task, O Queen,
1.76.105
to weigh thy wish and will. My fealty
1.76.106
thy high behest obeys. This humble throne
1.76.107
is of thy gift. Thy smiles for me obtain
1.76.108
authority from Jove. Thy grace concedes
1.76.109
my station at your bright Olympian board,
1.76.110
and gives me lordship of the darkening storm.”
1.81.111
Replying thus, he smote with spear reversed
1.81.112
the hollow mountain's wall; then rush the winds
1.81.113
through that wide breach in long, embattled line,
1.81.114
and sweep tumultuous from land to land:
1.81.115
with brooding pinions o'er the waters spread,
1.81.116
east wind and south, and boisterous Afric gale
1.81.117
upturn the sea; vast billows shoreward roll;
1.81.118
the shout of mariners, the creak of cordage,
1.81.119
follow the shock; low-hanging clouds conceal
1.81.120
from Trojan eyes all sight of heaven and day;
1.81.121
night o'er the ocean broods; from sky to sky
1.81.122
the thunders roll, the ceaseless lightnings glare;
1.81.123
and all things mean swift death for mortal man.
1.81.124
Straightway Aeneas, shuddering with amaze,
1.81.125
groaned loud, upraised both holy hands to Heaven,
1.81.126
and thus did plead: “O thrice and four times blest,
1.81.127
ye whom your sires and whom the walls of Troy
1.81.128
looked on in your last hour! O bravest son
1.81.129
Greece ever bore, Tydides! O that I
1.81.130
had fallen on Ilian fields, and given this life
1.81.131
struck down by thy strong hand! where by the spear
1.81.132
of great Achilles, fiery Hector fell,
1.81.133
and huge Sarpedon; where the Simois
1.81.134
in furious flood engulfed and whirled away
1.81.135
so many helms and shields and heroes slain!”
1.102.136
While thus he cried to Heaven, a shrieking blast
1.102.137
smote full upon the sail. Up surged the waves
1.102.138
to strike the very stars; in fragments flew
1.102.139
the shattered oars; the helpless vessel veered
1.102.140
and gave her broadside to the roaring flood,
1.102.141
where watery mountains rose and burst and fell.
1.102.142
Now high in air she hangs, then yawning gulfs
1.102.143
lay bare the shoals and sands o'er which she drives.
1.102.144
Three ships a whirling south wind snatched and flung
1.102.145
on hidden rocks,—altars of sacrifice
1.102.146
Italians call them, which lie far from shore
1.102.147
a vast ridge in the sea; three ships beside
1.102.148
an east wind, blowing landward from the deep,
1.102.149
drove on the shallows,—pitiable sight,—
1.102.150
and girdled them in walls of drifting sand.
1.102.151
That ship, which, with his friend Orontes, bore
1.102.152
the Lycian mariners, a great, plunging wave
1.102.153
struck straight astern, before Aeneas' eyes.
1.102.154
Forward the steersman rolled and o'er the side
1.102.155
fell headlong, while three times the circling flood
1.102.156
spun the light bark through swift engulfing seas.
1.102.157
Look, how the lonely swimmers breast the wave!
1.102.158
And on the waste of waters wide are seen
1.102.159
weapons of war, spars, planks, and treasures rare,
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once Ilium's boast, all mingled with the storm.
1.102.161
Now o'er Achates and Ilioneus,
1.102.162
now o'er the ship of Abas or Aletes,
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bursts the tempestuous shock; their loosened seams
1.102.164
yawn wide and yield the angry wave its will.
1.124.165
Meanwhile how all his smitten ocean moaned,
1.124.166
and how the tempest's turbulent assault
1.124.167
had vexed the stillness of his deepest cave,
1.124.168
great Neptune knew; and with indignant mien
1.124.169
uplifted o'er the sea his sovereign brow.
1.124.170
He saw the Teucrian navy scattered far
1.124.171
along the waters; and Aeneas' men
1.124.172
o'erwhelmed in mingling shock of wave and sky.
1.124.173
Saturnian Juno's vengeful stratagem
1.124.174
her brother's royal glance failed not to see;
1.124.175
and loud to eastward and to westward calling,
1.124.176
he voiced this word:“What pride of birth or power
1.124.177
is yours, ye winds, that, reckless of my will,
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audacious thus, ye ride through earth and heaven,
1.124.179
and stir these mountain waves? Such rebels I—
1.124.180
nay, first I calm this tumult! But yourselves
1.124.181
by heavier chastisement shall expiate
1.124.182
hereafter your bold trespass. Haste away
1.124.183
and bear your king this word! Not unto him
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dominion o'er the seas and trident dread,
1.124.185
but unto me, Fate gives. Let him possess
1.124.186
wild mountain crags, thy favored haunt and home,
1.124.187
O Eurus! In his barbarous mansion there,
1.124.188
let Aeolus look proud, and play the king
1.124.189
in yon close-bounded prison-house of storms!”
1.142.190
He spoke, and swiftlier than his word subdued
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the swelling of the floods; dispersed afar
1.142.192
th' assembled clouds, and brought back light to heaven.
1.142.193
Cymothoe then and Triton, with huge toil,
1.142.194
thrust down the vessels from the sharp-edged reef;
1.142.195
while, with the trident, the great god's own hand
1.142.196
assists the task; then, from the sand-strewn shore
1.142.197
out-ebbing far, he calms the whole wide sea,
1.142.198
and glides light-wheeled along the crested foam.
1.142.199
As when, with not unwonted tumult, roars
1.142.200
in some vast city a rebellious mob,
1.142.201
and base-born passions in its bosom burn,
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till rocks and blazing torches fill the air
1.142.203
(rage never lacks for arms)—if haply then
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some wise man comes, whose reverend looks attest
1.142.205
a life to duty given, swift silence falls;
1.142.206
all ears are turned attentive; and he sways
1.142.207
with clear and soothing speech the people's will.
1.142.208
So ceased the sea's uproar, when its grave Sire
1.142.209
looked o'er th' expanse, and, riding on in light,
1.142.210
flung free rein to his winged obedient car.
1.157.211
Aeneas' wave-worn crew now landward made,
1.157.212
and took the nearest passage, whither lay
1.157.213
the coast of Libya. A haven there
1.157.214
walled in by bold sides of a rocky isle,
1.157.215
offers a spacious and secure retreat,
1.157.216
where every billow from the distant main
1.157.217
breaks, and in many a rippling curve retires.
1.157.218
Huge crags and two confronted promontories
1.157.219
frown heaven-high, beneath whose brows outspread
1.157.220
the silent, sheltered waters; on the heights
1.157.221
the bright and glimmering foliage seems to show
1.157.222
a woodland amphitheatre; and yet higher
1.157.223
rises a straight-stemmed grove of dense, dark shade.
1.157.224
Fronting on these a grotto may be seen,
1.157.225
o'erhung by steep cliffs; from its inmost wall
1.157.226
clear springs gush out; and shelving seats it has
1.157.227
of unhewn stone, a place the wood-nymphs love.
1.157.228
In such a port, a weary ship rides free
1.157.229
of weight of firm-fluked anchor or strong chain.
1.180.230
Hither Aeneas of his scattered fleet
1.180.231
saving but seven, into harbor sailed;
1.180.232
with passionate longing for the touch of land,
1.180.233
forth leap the Trojans to the welcome shore,
1.180.234
and fling their dripping limbs along the ground.
1.180.235
Then good Achates smote a flinty stone,
1.180.236
secured a flashing spark, heaped on light leaves,
1.180.237
and with dry branches nursed the mounting flame.
1.180.238
Then Ceres' gift from the corrupting sea
1.180.239
they bring away; and wearied utterly
1.180.240
ply Ceres' cunning on the rescued corn,
1.180.241
and parch in flames, and mill 'twixt two smooth stones.
1.180.242
Aeneas meanwhile climbed the cliffs, and searched
1.180.243
the wide sea-prospect; haply Antheus there,
1.180.244
storm-buffeted, might sail within his ken,
1.180.245
with biremes, and his Phrygian mariners,
1.180.246
or Capys or Caicus armor-clad,
1.180.247
upon a towering deck. No ship is seen;
1.180.248
but while he looks, three stags along the shore
1.180.249
come straying by, and close behind them comes
1.180.250
the whole herd, browsing through the lowland vale
1.180.251
in one long line. Aeneas stopped and seized
1.180.252
his bow and swift-winged arrows, which his friend,
1.180.253
trusty Achates, close beside him bore.
1.180.254
His first shafts brought to earth the lordly heads
1.180.255
of the high-antlered chiefs; his next assailed
1.180.256
the general herd, and drove them one and all
1.180.257
in panic through the leafy wood, nor ceased
1.180.258
the victory of his bow, till on the ground
1.180.259
lay seven huge forms, one gift for every ship.
1.180.260
Then back to shore he sped, and to his friends
1.180.261
distributed the spoil, with that rare wine
1.180.262
which good Acestes while in Sicily
1.180.263
had stored in jars, and prince-like sent away
1.180.264
with his Ioved guest;—this too Aeneas gave;
1.180.265
and with these words their mournful mood consoled.
1.198.266
“Companions mine, we have not failed to feel
1.198.267
calamity till now. O, ye have borne
1.198.268
far heavier sorrow: Jove will make an end
1.198.269
also of this. Ye sailed a course hard by
1.198.270
infuriate Scylla's howling cliffs and caves.
1.198.271
Ye knew the Cyclops' crags. Lift up your hearts!
1.198.272
No more complaint and fear! It well may be
1.198.273
some happier hour will find this memory fair.
1.198.274
Through chance and change and hazard without end,
1.198.275
our goal is Latium; where our destinies
1.198.276
beckon to blest abodes, and have ordained
1.198.277
that Troy shall rise new-born! Have patience all!
1.198.278
And bide expectantly that golden day.”
1.208.279
Such was his word, but vexed with grief and care,
1.208.280
feigned hopes upon his forehead firm he wore,
1.208.281
and locked within his heart a hero's pain.
1.208.282
Now round the welcome trophies of his chase
1.208.283
they gather for a feast. Some flay the ribs
1.208.284
and bare the flesh below; some slice with knives,
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and on keen prongs the quivering strips impale,
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place cauldrons on the shore, and fan the fires.
1.208.287
Then, stretched at ease on couch of simple green,
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they rally their lost powers, and feast them well
1.208.289
on seasoned wine and succulent haunch of game.
1.208.290
But hunger banished and the banquet done,
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in long discourse of their lost mates they tell,
1.208.292
'twixt hopes and fears divided; for who knows
1.208.293
whether the lost ones live, or strive with death,
1.208.294
or heed no more whatever voice may call?
1.208.295
Chiefly Aeneas now bewails his friends,
1.208.296
Orontes brave and fallen Amycus,
1.208.297
or mourns with grief untold the untimely doom
1.208.298
of bold young Gyas and Cloanthus bold.
1.223.299
After these things were past, exalted Jove,
1.223.300
from his ethereal sky surveying clear
1.223.301
the seas all winged with sails, lands widely spread,
1.223.302
and nations populous from shore to shore,
1.223.303
paused on the peak of heaven, and fixed his gaze
1.223.304
on Libya. But while he anxious mused,
1.223.305
near him, her radiant eyes all dim with tears,
1.223.306
nor smiling any more, Venus approached,
1.223.307
and thus complained: “O thou who dost control
1.223.308
things human and divine by changeless laws,
1.223.309
enthroned in awful thunder! What huge wrong
1.223.310
could my Aeneas and his Trojans few
1.223.311
achieve against thy power? For they have borne
1.223.312
unnumbered deaths, and, failing Italy,
1.223.313
the gates of all the world against them close.
1.223.314
Hast thou not given us thy covenant
1.223.315
that hence the Romans when the rolling years
1.223.316
have come full cycle, shall arise to power
1.223.317
from Troy's regenerate seed, and rule supreme
1.223.318
the unresisted lords of land and sea?
1.223.319
O Sire, what swerves thy will? How oft have I
1.223.320
in Troy's most lamentable wreck and woe
1.223.321
consoled my heart with this, and balanced oft
1.223.322
our destined good against our destined ill!
1.223.323
But the same stormful fortune still pursues
1.223.324
my band of heroes on their perilous way.
1.223.325
When shall these labors cease, O glorious King?
1.223.326
Antenor, though th' Achaeans pressed him sore,
1.223.327
found his way forth, and entered unassailed
1.223.328
Illyria's haven, and the guarded land
1.223.329
of the Liburni. Straight up stream he sailed
1.223.330
where like a swollen sea Timavus pours
1.223.331
a nine-fold flood from roaring mountain gorge,
1.223.332
and whelms with voiceful wave the fields below.
1.223.333
He built Patavium there, and fixed abodes
1.223.334
for Troy's far-exiled sons; he gave a name
1.223.335
to a new land and race; the Trojan arms
1.223.336
were hung on temple walls; and, to this day,
1.223.337
lying in perfect peace, the hero sleeps.
1.223.338
But we of thine own seed, to whom thou dost
1.223.339
a station in the arch of heaven assign,
1.223.340
behold our navy vilely wrecked, because
1.223.341
a single god is angry; we endure
1.223.342
this treachery and violence, whereby
1.223.343
wide seas divide us from th' Hesperian shore.
1.223.344
Is this what piety receives? Or thus
1.223.345
doth Heaven's decree restore our fallen thrones?”
1.254.346
Smiling reply, the Sire of gods and men,
1.254.347
with such a look as clears the skies of storm
1.254.348
chastely his daughter kissed, and thus spake on:
1.254.349
“Let Cytherea cast her fears away!
1.254.350
Irrevocably blest the fortunes be
1.254.351
of thee and thine. Nor shalt thou fail to see
1.254.352
that City, and the proud predestined wall
1.254.353
encompassing Lavinium. Thyself
1.254.354
shall starward to the heights of heaven bear
1.254.355
Aeneas the great-hearted. Nothing swerves
1.254.356
my will once uttered. Since such carking cares
1.254.357
consume thee, I this hour speak freely forth,
1.254.358
and leaf by leaf the book of fate unfold.
1.254.359
Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war
1.254.360
and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall
1.254.361
and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond
1.254.362
about his gathered people. Summers three
1.254.363
shall Latium call him king; and three times pass
1.254.364
the winter o'er Rutulia's vanquished hills.
1.254.365
His heir, Ascanius, now Iulus called
1.254.366
(Ilus it was while Ilium's kingdom stood),
1.254.367
full thirty months shall reign, then move the throne
1.254.368
from the Lavinian citadel, and build
1.254.369
for Alba Longa its well-bastioned wall.
1.272.370
Here three full centuries shall Hector's race
1.272.371
have kingly power; till a priestess queen,
1.272.372
by Mars conceiving, her twin offspring bear;
1.272.373
then Romulus, wolf-nursed and proudly clad
1.272.374
in tawny wolf-skin mantle, shall receive
1.272.375
the sceptre of his race. He shall uprear
1.272.376
and on his Romans his own name bestow.
1.272.377
To these I give no bounded times or power,
1.272.378
but empire without end. Yea, even my Queen,
1.272.379
Juno, who now chastiseth land and sea
1.272.380
with her dread frown, will find a wiser way,
1.272.381
and at my sovereign side protect and bless
1.272.382
the Romans, masters of the whole round world,
1.272.383
who, clad in peaceful toga, judge mankind.
1.272.384
Such my decree! In lapse of seasons due,
1.272.385
the heirs of Ilium's kings shall bind in chains
1.272.386
Mycenae's glory and Achilles' towers,
1.272.387
and over prostrate Argos sit supreme.
1.272.388
Of Trojan stock illustriously sprung,
1.272.389
lo, Caesar comes! whose power the ocean bounds,
1.272.390
whose fame, the skies. He shall receive the name
1.272.391
Iulus nobly bore, great Julius, he.
1.272.392
Him to the skies, in Orient trophies dress,
1.272.393
thou shalt with smiles receive; and he, like us,
1.272.394
shall hear at his own shrines the suppliant vow.
1.272.395
Then will the world grow mild; the battle-sound
1.272.396
will be forgot; for olden Honor then,
1.272.397
with spotless Vesta, and the brothers twain,
1.272.398
Remus and Romulus, at strife no more,
1.272.399
will publish sacred laws. The dreadful gates
1.272.400
whence issueth war, shall with close-jointed steel
1.272.401
be barred impregnably; and prisoned there
1.272.402
the heaven-offending Fury, throned on swords,
1.272.403
and fettered by a hundred brazen chains,
1.272.404
shall belch vain curses from his lips of gore.”
1.297.405
These words he gave, and summoned Maia's son,
1.297.406
the herald Mercury, who earthward flying,
1.297.407
should bid the Tyrian realms and new-built towers
1.297.408
welcome the Trojan waifs; lest Dido, blind
1.297.409
to Fate's decree, should thrust them from the land.
1.297.410
He takes his flight, with rhythmic stroke of wing,
1.297.411
across th' abyss of air, and soon draws near
1.297.412
unto the Libyan mainland. He fulfils
1.297.413
his heavenly task; the Punic hearts of stone
1.297.414
grow soft beneath the effluence divine;
1.297.415
and, most of all, the Queen, with heart at ease
1.297.416
awaits benignantly her guests from Troy.
1.305.417
But good Aeneas, pondering all night long
1.305.418
his many cares, when first the cheerful dawn
1.305.419
upon him broke, resolved to take survey
1.305.420
of this strange country whither wind and wave
1.305.421
had driven him,—for desert land it seemed,—
1.305.422
to learn what tribes of man or beast possess
1.305.423
a place so wild, and careful tidings bring
1.305.424
back to his friends. His fleet of ships the while,
1.305.425
where dense, dark groves o'er-arch a hollowed crag,
1.305.426
he left encircled in far-branching shade.
1.305.427
Then with no followers save his trusty friend
1.305.428
Achates, he went forth upon his way,
1.305.429
two broad-tipped javelins poising in his hand.
1.305.430
Deep to the midmost wood he went, and there
1.305.431
his Mother in his path uprose; she seemed
1.305.432
in garb and countenance a maid, and bore,
1.305.433
like Spartan maids, a weapon; in such guise
1.305.434
Harpalyce the Thracian urges on
1.305.435
her panting coursers and in wild career
1.305.436
outstrips impetuous Hebrus as it flows.
1.305.437
Over her lovely shoulders was a bow,
1.305.438
slender and light, as fits a huntress fair;
1.305.439
her golden tresses without wimple moved
1.305.440
in every wind, and girded in a knot
1.305.441
her undulant vesture bared her marble knees.
1.305.442
She hailed them thus: “Ho, sirs, I pray you tell
1.305.443
if haply ye have noted, as ye came,
1.305.444
one of my sisters in this wood astray?
1.305.445
She bore a quiver, and a lynx's hide
1.305.446
her spotted mantle was; perchance she roused
1.305.447
some foaming boar, and chased with loud halloo.”
1.325.448
So Venus spoke, and Venus' son replied:
1.325.449
“No voice or vision of thy sister fair
1.325.450
has crossed my path, thou maid without a name!
1.325.451
Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould,
1.325.452
nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess,
1.325.453
art thou bright Phoebus' sister? Or some nymph,
1.325.454
the daughter of a god? Whate'er thou art,
1.325.455
thy favor we implore, and potent aid
1.325.456
in our vast toil. Instruct us of what skies,
1.325.457
or what world's end, our storm-swept lives have found!
1.325.458
Strange are these lands and people where we rove,
1.325.459
compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand
1.325.460
shall many a victim on thine altar slay!”
1.335.461
Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive
1.335.462
honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft
1.335.463
bear bow and quiver, and our ankles white
1.335.464
lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies
1.335.465
the Punic power, where Tyrian masters hold
1.335.466
Agenor's town; but on its borders dwell
1.335.467
the Libyans, by battles unsubdued.
1.335.468
Upon the throne is Dido, exiled there
1.335.469
from Tyre, to flee th' unnatural enmity
1.335.470
of her own brother. 'T was an ancient wrong;
1.335.471
too Iong the dark and tangled tale would be;
1.335.472
I trace the larger outline of her story:
1.335.473
Sichreus was her spouse, whose acres broad
1.335.474
no Tyrian lord could match, and he was-blessed
1.335.475
by his ill-fated lady's fondest love,
1.335.476
whose father gave him her first virgin bloom
1.335.477
in youthful marriage. But the kingly power
1.335.478
among the Tyrians to her brother came,
1.335.479
Pygmalion, none deeper dyed in crime
1.335.480
in all that land. Betwixt these twain there rose
1.335.481
a deadly hatred,—and the impious wretch,
1.335.482
blinded by greed, and reckless utterly
1.335.483
of his fond sister's joy, did murder foul
1.335.484
upon defenceless and unarmed Sichaeus,
1.335.485
and at the very altar hewed him down.
1.335.486
Long did he hide the deed, and guilefully
1.335.487
deceived with false hopes, and empty words,
1.335.488
her grief and stricken love. But as she slept,
1.335.489
her husband's tombless ghost before her came,
1.335.490
with face all wondrous pale, and he laid bare
1.335.491
his heart with dagger pierced, disclosing so
1.335.492
the blood-stained altar and the infamy
1.335.493
that darkened now their house. His counsel was
1.335.494
to fly, self-banished, from her ruined land,
1.335.495
and for her journey's aid, he whispered where
1.335.496
his buried treasure lay, a weight unknown
1.335.497
of silver and of gold. Thus onward urged,
1.335.498
Dido, assembling her few trusted friends,
1.335.499
prepared her flight. There rallied to her cause
1.335.500
all who did hate and scorn the tyrant king,
1.335.501
or feared his cruelty. They seized his ships,
1.335.502
which haply rode at anchor in the bay,
1.335.503
and loaded them with gold; the hoarded wealth
1.335.504
of vile and covetous Pygmalion
1.335.505
they took to sea. A woman wrought this deed.
1.335.506
Then came they to these lands where now thine eyes
1.335.507
behold yon walls and yonder citadel
1.335.508
of newly rising Carthage. For a price
1.335.509
they measured round so much of Afric soil
1.335.510
as one bull's hide encircles, and the spot
1.335.511
received its name, the Byrsa. But, I pray,
1.335.512
what men are ye? from what far land arrived,
1.335.513
and whither going?” When she questioned thus,
1.335.514
her son, with sighs that rose from his heart's depths,
1.335.515
this answer gave:
1.372.516
“Divine one, if I tell
1.372.517
my woes and burdens all, and thou could'st pause
1.372.518
to heed the tale, first would the vesper star
1.372.519
th' Olympian portals close, and bid the day
1.372.520
in slumber lie. Of ancient Troy are we—
1.372.521
if aught of Troy thou knowest! As we roved
1.372.522
from sea to sea, the hazard of the storm
1.372.523
cast us up hither on this Libyan coast.
1.372.524
I am Aeneas, faithful evermore
1.372.525
to Heaven's command; and in my ships I bear
1.372.526
my gods ancestral, which I snatched away
1.372.527
from peril of the foe. My fame is known
1.372.528
above the stars. I travel on in quest
1.372.529
of Italy, my true home-land, and I
1.372.530
from Jove himself may trace my birth divine.
1.372.531
With twice ten ships upon the Phryglan main
1.372.532
I launched away. My mother from the skies
1.372.533
gave guidance, and I wrought what Fate ordained.
1.372.534
Yet now scarce seven shattered ships survive
1.372.535
the shock of wind and wave; and I myself
1.372.536
friendless, bereft, am wandering up and down
1.372.537
this Libyan wilderness! Behold me here,
1.372.538
from Europe and from Asia exiled still!”
1.372.539
But Venus could not let him longer plain,
1.372.540
and stopped his grief midway:
1.387.541
“Whoe'er thou art,
1.387.542
I deem that not unblest of heavenly powers,
1.387.543
with vital breath still thine, thou comest hither
1.387.544
unto our Tyrian town. Go steadfast on,
1.387.545
and to the royal threshold make thy way!
1.387.546
I bring thee tidings that thy comrades all
1.387.547
are safe at land; and all thy ships, conveyed
1.387.548
by favoring breezes, safe at anchor lie;
1.387.549
or else in vain my parents gave me skill
1.387.550
to read the skies. Look up at yonder swans!
1.387.551
A flock of twelve, whose gayly fluttering file,
1.387.552
erst scattered by Jove's eagle swooping down
1.387.553
from his ethereal haunt, now form anew
1.387.554
their long-drawn line, and make a landing-place,
1.387.555
or, hovering over, scan some chosen ground,
1.387.556
or soaring high, with whir of happy wings,
1.387.557
re-circle heaven in triumphant song:
1.387.558
likewise, I tell thee, thy Iost mariners
1.387.559
are landed, or fly landward at full sail.
1.387.560
Up, then! let yon plain path thy guidance be,”
1.402.561
She ceased and turned away. A roseate beam
1.402.562
from her bright shoulder glowed; th' ambrosial hair
1.402.563
breathed more than mortal sweetness, while her robes
1.402.564
fell rippling to her feet. Each step revealed
1.402.565
the veritable goddess. Now he knew
1.402.566
that vision was his mother, and his words
1.402.567
pursued the fading phantom as it fled:
1.402.568
“Why is thy son deluded o'er and o'er
1.402.569
with mocking dreams,—another cruel god?
1.402.570
Hast thou no hand-clasp true, nor interchange
1.402.571
of words unfeigned betwixt this heart and thine?”
1.402.572
Such word of blame he spoke, and took his way
1.402.573
toward the city's rampart. Venus then
1.402.574
o'erveiled them as they moved in darkened air,—
1.402.575
a liquid mantle of thick cloud divine,—
1.402.576
that viewless they might pass, nor would any
1.402.577
obstruct, delay, or question why they came.
1.402.578
To Paphos then she soared, her Ioved abode,
1.402.579
where stands her temple, at whose hundred shrines
1.402.580
garlands of myrtle and fresh roses breathe,
1.402.581
and clouds of orient sweetness waft away.
1.418.582
Meanwhile the wanderers swiftly journey on
1.418.583
along the clear-marked road, and soon they climb
1.418.584
the brow of a high hill, which close in view
1.418.585
o'er-towers the city's crown. The vast exploit,
1.418.586
where lately rose but Afric cabins rude,
1.418.587
Aeneas wondered at: the smooth, wide ways;
1.418.588
the bastioned gates; the uproar of the throng.
1.418.589
The Tyrians toil unwearied; some up-raise
1.418.590
a wall or citadel, from far below
1.418.591
lifting the ponderous stone; or with due care
1.418.592
choose where to build, and close the space around
1.418.593
with sacred furrow; in their gathering-place
1.418.594
the people for just governors, just laws,
1.418.595
and for their reverend senate shout acclaim.
1.418.596
Some clear the harbor mouth; some deeply lay
1.418.597
the base of a great theatre, and carve out
1.418.598
proud columns from the mountain, to adorn
1.418.599
their rising stage with lofty ornament.
1.418.600
so busy bees above a field of flowers
1.418.601
in early summer amid sunbeams toil,
1.418.602
leading abroad their nation's youthful brood;
1.418.603
or with the flowing honey storing close
1.418.604
the pliant cells, until they quite run o'er
1.418.605
with nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm
1.418.606
they take their little loads; or lined for war,
1.418.607
rout the dull drones, and chase them from the hive;
1.418.608
brisk is the task, and all the honeyed air
1.418.609
breathes odors of wild thyme. “How blest of Heaven.
1.418.610
These men that see their promised ramparts rise!”
1.418.611
Aeneas sighed; and swift his glances moved
1.418.612
from tower to tower; then on his way he fared,
1.418.613
veiled in the wonder-cloud, whence all unseen
1.418.614
of human eyes,—O strange the tale and true!—
1.418.615
he threaded the thronged streets, unmarked, unknown.
1.441.616
Deep in the city's heart there was a grove
1.441.617
of beauteous shade, where once the Tyrians,
1.441.618
cast here by stormful waves, delved out of earth
1.441.619
that portent which Queen Juno bade them find,—
1.441.620
the head of a proud horse,—that ages long
1.441.621
their boast might be wealth, luxury and war.
1.441.622
Upon this spot Sidonian Dido raised
1.441.623
a spacious fane to Juno, which became
1.441.624
splendid with gifts, and hallowed far and wide
1.441.625
for potency divine. Its beams were bronze,
1.441.626
and on loud hinges swung the brazen doors.
1.441.627
A rare, new sight this sacred grove did show,
1.441.628
which calmed Aeneas' fears, and made him bold
1.441.629
to hope for safety, and with lifted heart
1.441.630
from his low-fallen fortunes re-aspire.
1.441.631
For while he waits the advent of the Queen,
1.441.632
he scans the mighty temple, and admires
1.441.633
the city's opulent pride, and all the skill
1.441.634
its rival craftsmen in their work approve.
1.441.635
Behold! he sees old Ilium's well-fought fields
1.441.636
in sequent picture, and those famous wars
1.441.637
now told upon men's lips the whole world round.
1.441.638
There Atreus' sons, there kingly Priam moved,
1.441.639
and fierce Pelides pitiless to both.
1.441.640
Aeneas paused, and, weeping, thus began:
1.441.641
“Alas, Achates, what far region now,
1.441.642
what land in all the world knows not our pain?
1.441.643
See, it is Priam! Virtue's wage is given—
1.441.644
O even here! Here also there be tears
1.441.645
for what men bear, and mortal creatures feel
1.441.646
each other's sorrow. Therefore, have no fear!
1.441.647
This story of our loss forbodes us well.”
1.464.648
So saying, he received into his heart
1.464.649
that visionary scene, profoundly sighed,
1.464.650
and let his plenteous tears unheeded flow.
1.464.651
There he beheld the citadel of Troy
1.464.652
girt with embattled foes; here, Greeks in flight
1.464.653
some Trojan onset 'scaped; there, Phrygian bands
1.464.654
before tall-plumed Achilles' chariot sped.
1.464.655
The snowy tents of Rhesus spread hard by
1.464.656
(he sees them through his tears), where Diomed
1.464.657
in night's first watch burst o'er them unawares
1.464.658
with bloody havoc and a host of deaths;
1.464.659
then drove his fiery coursers o'er the plain
1.464.660
before their thirst or hunger could be stayed
1.464.661
on Trojan corn or Xanthus' cooling stream.
1.464.662
Here too was princely Troilus, despoiled,
1.464.663
routed and weaponless, O wretched boy!
1.464.664
Ill-matched against Achilles! His wild steeds
1.464.665
bear him along, as from his chariot's rear
1.464.666
he falls far back, but clutches still the rein;
1.464.667
his hair and shoulders on the ground go trailing,
1.464.668
and his down-pointing spear-head scrawls the dust.
1.464.669
Elsewhere, to Pallas' ever-hostile shrine,
1.464.670
daughters of Ilium, with unsnooded hair,
1.464.671
and lifting all in vain her hallowed pall,
1.464.672
walked suppliant and sad, beating their breasts,
1.464.673
with outspread palms. But her unswerving eyes
1.464.674
the goddess fixed on earth, and would not see.
1.464.675
Achilles round the Trojan rampart thrice
1.464.676
had dragged the fallen Hector, and for gold
1.464.677
was making traffic of the lifeless clay.
1.464.678
Aeneas groaned aloud, with bursting heart,
1.464.679
to see the spoils, the car, the very corpse
1.464.680
of his lost friend,—while Priam for the dead
1.464.681
stretched forth in piteous prayer his helpless hands.
1.464.682
There too his own presentment he could see
1.464.683
surrounded by Greek kings; and there were shown
1.464.684
hordes from the East, and black-browed Memnon's arms;
1.464.685
her band of Amazons, with moon-shaped shields,
1.464.686
Penthesilea led; her martial eye
1.464.687
flamed on from troop to troop; a belt of gold
1.464.688
beneath one bare, protruded breast she bound—
1.464.689
a warrior-virgin braving mail-clad men.
1.494.690
While on such spectacle Aeneas' eyes
1.494.691
looked wondering, while mute and motionless
1.494.692
he stood at gaze, Queen Dido to the shrine
1.494.693
in lovely majesty drew near; a throng
1.494.694
of youthful followers pressed round her way.
1.494.695
So by the margin of Eurotas wide
1.494.696
or o'er the Cynthian steep, Diana leads
1.494.697
her bright processional; hither and yon
1.494.698
are visionary legions numberless
1.494.699
of Oreads; the regnant goddess bears
1.494.700
a quiver on her shoulders, and is seen
1.494.701
emerging tallest of her beauteous train;
1.494.702
while joy unutterable thrills the breast
1.494.703
of fond Latona: Dido not less fair
1.494.704
amid her subjects passed, and not less bright
1.494.705
her glow of gracious joy, while she approved
1.494.706
her future kingdom's pomp and vast emprise.
1.494.707
Then at the sacred portal and beneath
1.494.708
the temple's vaulted dome she took her place,
1.494.709
encompassed by armed men, and lifted high
1.494.710
upon a throne; her statutes and decrees
1.494.711
the people heard, and took what lot or toil
1.494.712
her sentence, or impartial urn, assigned.
1.494.713
But, lo! Aeneas sees among the throng
1.494.714
Antheus, Sergestus, and Cloanthus bold,
1.494.715
with other Teucrians, whom the black storm flung
1.494.716
far o'er the deep and drove on alien shores.
1.494.717
Struck dumb was he, and good Achates too,
1.494.718
half gladness and half fear. Fain would they fly
1.494.719
to friendship's fond embrace; but knowing not
1.494.720
what might befall, their hearts felt doubt and care.
1.494.721
Therefore they kept the secret, and remained
1.494.722
forth-peering from the hollow veil of cloud,
1.494.723
haply to learn what their friends' fate might be,
1.494.724
or where the fleet was landed, or what aim
1.494.725
had brought them hither; for a chosen few
1.494.726
from every ship had come to sue for grace,
1.494.727
and all the temple with their voices rang.
1.520.728
The doors swung wide; and after access given
1.520.729
and leave to speak, revered Ilioneus
1.520.730
with soul serene these lowly words essayed:
1.520.731
“O Queen, who hast authority of Jove
1.520.732
to found this rising city, and subdue
1.520.733
with righteous governance its people proud,
1.520.734
we wretched Trojans, blown from sea to sea,
1.520.735
beseech thy mercy; keep the curse of fire
1.520.736
from our poor ships! We pray thee, do no wrong
1.520.737
unto a guiltless race. But heed our plea!
1.520.738
No Libyan hearth shall suffer by our sword,
1.520.739
nor spoil and plunder to our ships be borne;
1.520.740
such haughty violence fits not the souls
1.520.741
of vanquished men. We journey to a land
1.520.742
named, in Greek syllables, Hesperia:
1.520.743
a storied realm, made mighty by great wars
1.520.744
and wealth of fruitful land; in former days
1.520.745
Oenotrians had it, and their sons, 't is said,
1.520.746
have called it Italy, a chieftain's name
1.520.747
to a whole region given. Thitherward
1.520.748
our ships did fare; but with swift-rising flood
1.520.749
the stormful season of Orion's star
1.520.750
drove us on viewless shoals; and angry gales
1.520.751
dispersed us, smitten by the tumbling surge,
1.520.752
among innavigable rocks. Behold,
1.520.753
we few swam hither, waifs upon your shore!
1.520.754
What race of mortals this? What barbarous land,
1.520.755
that with inhospitable laws ye thrust
1.520.756
a stranger from your coasts, and fly to arms,
1.520.757
nor grant mere foothold on your kingdom's bound?
1.520.758
If man thou scornest and all mortal power,
1.520.759
forget not that the gods watch good and ill!
1.544.760
A king we had; Aeneas,—never man
1.544.761
in all the world more loyal, just and true,
1.544.762
nor mightier in arms! If Heaven decree
1.544.763
his present safety, if he now do breathe
1.544.764
the air of earth and is not buried low
1.544.765
among the dreadful shades, then fear not thou!
1.544.766
For thou wilt never rue that thou wert prompt
1.544.767
to do us the first kindness. O'er the sea
1.544.768
in the Sicilian land, are cities proud,
1.544.769
with martial power, and great Acestes there
1.544.770
is of our Trojan kin. So grant us here
1.544.771
to beach our shattered ships along thy shore,
1.544.772
and from thy forest bring us beam and spar
1.544.773
to mend our broken oars. Then, if perchance
1.544.774
we find once more our comrades and our king,
1.544.775
and forth to Italy once more set sail,
1.544.776
to Italy, our Latin hearth and home,
1.544.777
we will rejoicing go. But if our weal
1.544.778
is clean gone by, and thee, blest chief and sire,
1.544.779
these Libyan waters keep, and if no more
1.544.780
Iulus bids us hope,—then, at the least,
1.544.781
to yon Sicilian seas, to friendly lands
1.544.782
whence hither drifting with the winds we came,
1.544.783
let us retrace the journey and rejoin
1.544.784
good King Acestes.” So Ilioneus
1.544.785
ended his pleading; the Dardanidae
1.544.786
murmured assent.
1.561.787
Then Dido, briefly and with downcast eyes,
1.561.788
her answer made: “O Teucrians, have no fear!
1.561.789
Bid care begone! It was necessity,
1.561.790
and my young kingdom's weakness, which compelled
1.561.791
the policy of force, and made me keep
1.561.792
such vigilant sentry my wide co'ast along.
1.561.793
Aeneas and his people, that fair town
1.561.794
of Troy—who knows them not? The whole world knows
1.561.795
those valorous chiefs and huge, far-flaming wars.
1.561.796
Our Punic hearts are not of substance all
1.561.797
insensible and dull: the god of day
1.561.798
drives not his fire-breathing steeds so far
1.561.799
from this our Tyrian town. If ye would go
1.561.800
to great Hesperia, where Saturn reigned,
1.561.801
or if voluptuous Eryx and the throne
1.561.802
of good Acestes be your journey's end,
1.561.803
I send you safe; I speed you on your way.
1.561.804
But if in these my realms ye will abide,
1.561.805
associates of my power, behold, I build
1.561.806
this city for your own! Choose haven here
1.561.807
for your good ships. Beneath my royal sway
1.561.808
Trojan and Tyrian equal grace will find.
1.561.809
But O, that this same storm had brought your King.
1.561.810
Aeneas, hither! I will bid explore
1.561.811
our Libya's utmost bound, where haply he
1.561.812
in wilderness or hamlet wanders lost.”
1.579.813
By these fair words to joy profoundly stirred,
1.579.814
Father Aeneas and Achates brave
1.579.815
to cast aside the cloud that wrapped them round
1.579.816
yearned greatly; and Achates to his King
1.579.817
spoke thus: “O goddess-born, in thy wise heart
1.579.818
what purpose rises now? Lo! All is well!
1.579.819
Thy fleet and followers are safe at land.
1.579.820
One only comes not, who before our eyes
1.579.821
sank in the soundless sea. All else fulfils
1.579.822
thy mother's prophecy.” Scarce had he spoke
1.579.823
when suddenly that overmantling cloud
1.579.824
was cloven, and dissolved in lucent air;
1.579.825
forth stood Aeneas. A clear sunbeam smote
1.579.826
his god-like head and shoulders. Venus' son
1.579.827
of his own heavenly mother now received
1.579.828
youth's glowing rose, an eye of joyful fire,
1.579.829
and tresses clustering fair. 'T is even so
1.579.830
the cunning craftsman unto ivory gives
1.579.831
new beauty, or with circlet of bright gold
1.579.832
encloses silver or the Parian stone.
1.579.833
Thus of the Queen he sued, while wonderment
1.579.834
fell on all hearts. “Behold the man ye seek,
1.579.835
for I am here! Aeneas, Trojan-born,
1.579.836
brought safely hither from yon Libyan seas!
1.579.837
O thou who first hast looked with pitying eye
1.579.838
on Troy's unutterable grief, who even to us
1.579.839
(escaped our Grecian victor, and outworn
1.579.840
by all the perils land and ocean know),
1.579.841
to us, bereft and ruined, dost extend
1.579.842
such welcome to thy kingdom and thy home!
1.579.843
I have no power, Dido, to give thanks
1.579.844
to match thine ample grace; nor is there power
1.579.845
in any remnant of our Dardan blood,
1.579.846
now fled in exile o'er the whole wide world.
1.579.847
May gods on high (if influence divine
1.579.848
bless faithful lives, or recompense be found
1.579.849
in justice and thy self-approving mind)
1.579.850
give thee thy due reward. What age was blest
1.579.851
by such a birth as thine? What parents proud
1.579.852
such offspring bore? O, while the rivers run
1.579.853
to mingle with the sea, while shadows pass
1.579.854
along yon rounded hills from vale to vale,
1.579.855
and while from heaven's unextinguished fire
1.579.856
the stars be fed—so Iong thy glorious name,
1.579.857
thy place illustrious and thy virtue's praise,
1.579.858
abide undimmed.—Yet I myself must go
1.579.859
to lands I know not where.” After this word
1.579.860
his right hand clasped his Ioved Ilioneus,
1.579.861
his left Serestus; then the comrades all,
1.579.862
brave Gyas, brave Cloanthus, and their peers.
1.613.863
Sidonian Dido felt her heart stand still
1.613.864
when first she looked on him; and thrilled again
1.613.865
to hear what vast adventure had befallen
1.613.866
so great a hero. Thus she welcomed him:
1.613.867
“What chance, O goddess-born, o'er danger's path
1.613.868
impels? What power to this wild coast has borne?
1.613.869
Art thou Aeneas, great Anchises' son,
1.613.870
whom lovely Venus by the Phrygian stream
1.613.871
of Simois brought forth unto the day?
1.613.872
Now I bethink me of when Teucer came
1.613.873
to Sidon, exiled, and of Belus' power
1.613.874
desired a second throne. For Belus then,
1.613.875
our worshipped sire, despoiled the teeming land
1.613.876
of Cyprus, as its conqueror and king.
1.613.877
And since that hour I oft have heard the tale
1.613.878
of fallen Troy, of thine own noble name,
1.613.879
and of Achaean kings. Teucer was wont,
1.613.880
although their foe, to praise the Teucrian race,
1.613.881
and boasted him of that proud lineage sprung.
1.613.882
Therefore, behold, our portals are swung wide
1.613.883
for all your company. I also bore
1.613.884
hard fate like thine. I too was driven of storms
1.613.885
and after long toil was allowed at last
1.613.886
to call this land my home. O, I am wise
1.613.887
in sorrow, and I help all suffering souls!”
1.613.888
So saying, she bade Aeneas welcome take
1.613.889
beneath her royal roof, and to the gods
1.613.890
made sacrifice in temples, while she sent
1.613.891
unto the thankful Trojans on the shore
1.613.892
a score of bulls, and of huge, bristling swine,
1.613.893
a herd of a whole hundred, and a flock
1.613.894
of goodly lambs, a hundred, who ran close
1.613.895
beside the mother-ewes: and all were given
1.613.896
in joyful feast to please the Heavenly Powers.
1.613.897
Her palace showed a monarch's fair array
1.613.898
all glittering and proud, and feasts were spread
1.613.899
within the ample court. Rich broideries
1.613.900
hung deep incarnadined with Tyrian skill;
1.613.901
the board had massy silver, gold-embossed,
1.613.902
where gleamed the mighty deeds of all her sires,
1.613.903
a graven chronicle of peace and war
1.613.904
prolonged, since first her ancient line began,
1.613.905
from royal sire to son.
1.643.906
Aeneas now
1.643.907
(for love in his paternal heart spoke loud
1.643.908
and gave no rest) bade swift Achates run
1.643.909
to tell Ascanius all, and from the ship
1.643.910
to guide him upward to the town,—for now
1.643.911
the father's whole heart for Ascanius yearned.
1.643.912
And gifts he bade them bring, which had been saved
1.643.913
in Ilium's fall: a richly broidered cloak
1.643.914
heavy with golden emblems; and a veil
1.643.915
by leaves of saffron lilies bordered round,
1.643.916
which Argive Helen o'er her beauty threw,
1.643.917
her mother Leda's gift most wonderful,
1.643.918
and which to Troy she bore, when flying far
1.643.919
in lawless wedlock from Mycenae's towers;
1.643.920
a sceptre, too, once fair Ilione's,
1.643.921
eldest of Priam's daughters; and round pearls
1.643.922
strung in a necklace, and a double crown
1.643.923
of jewels set in gold. These gifts to find,
1.643.924
Achates to the tall ships sped away.
1.657.925
But Cytherea in her heart revolved
1.657.926
new wiles, new schemes: how Cupid should transform
1.657.927
his countenance, and, coming in the guise
1.657.928
of sweet Ascanius, still more inflame
1.657.929
the amorous Queen with gifts, and deeply fuse
1.657.930
through all her yielding frame his fatal fire.
1.657.931
Sooth, Venus feared the many-languaged guile
1.657.932
which Tyrians use; fierce Juno's hate she feared,
1.657.933
and falling night renewed her sleepless care.
1.657.934
Therefore to Love, the light-winged god, she said:
1.657.935
“Sweet son, of whom my sovereignty and power
1.657.936
alone are given! O son, whose smile may scorn
1.657.937
the shafts of Jove whereby the Titans fell,
1.657.938
to thee I fly, and humbly here implore
1.657.939
thy help divine. Behold, from land to land
1.657.940
Aeneas, thine own brother, voyages on
1.657.941
storm-driven, by Juno's causeless enmity.
1.657.942
Thou knowest it well, and oft hast sighed to see
1.657.943
my sighs and tears. Dido the Tyrian now
1.657.944
detains him with soft speeches; and I fear
1.657.945
such courtesy from Juno means us ill;
1.657.946
she is not one who, when the hour is ripe,
1.657.947
bids action pause. I therefore now intend
1.657.948
the Tyrian Queen to snare, and siege her breast
1.657.949
with our invading fire, before some god
1.657.950
shall change her mood. But let her bosom burn
1.657.951
with love of my Aeneas not less than mine.
1.657.952
This thou canst bring to pass. I pray thee hear
1.657.953
the plan I counsel. At his father's call
1.657.954
Ascanius, heir of kings, makes haste to climb
1.657.955
to yon Sidonian citadel; my grace
1.657.956
protects him, and he bears gifts which were saved
1.657.957
from hazard of the sea and burning Troy.
1.657.958
Him lapped in slumber on Cythera's hill,
1.657.959
or in Idalia's deep and hallowing shade,
1.657.960
myself will hide, lest haply he should learn
1.657.961
our stratagem, and burst in, foiling all.
1.657.962
Wear thou his shape for one brief night thyself,
1.657.963
and let thy boyhood feign another boy's
1.657.964
familiar countenance; when Dido there,
1.657.965
beside the royal feast and flowing wine,
1.657.966
all smiles and joy, shall clasp thee to her breast
1.657.967
while she caresses thee, and her sweet lips
1.657.968
touch close with thine, then let thy secret fire
1.657.969
breathe o'er her heart, to poison and betray.”
1.657.970
The love-god to his mother's dear behest
1.657.971
gave prompt assent. He put his pinions by
1.657.972
and tripped it like Iulus, light of heart.
1.657.973
But Venus o'er Ascanius' body poured
1.657.974
a perfect sleep, and, to her heavenly breast
1.657.975
enfolding him, far, far away upbore
1.657.976
to fair Idalia's grove, where fragrant buds
1.657.977
of softly-petalled marjoram embower
1.657.978
in pleasurable shade.
1.695.979
Cupid straightway
1.695.980
obeyed his mother's word and bore the gifts,
1.695.981
each worthy of a king, as offerings
1.695.982
to greet the Tyrian throne; and as he went
1.695.983
he clasped Achates' friendly hand, and smiled.
1.695.984
Father Aeneas now, and all his band
1.695.985
of Trojan chivalry, at social feast,
1.695.986
on lofty purple-pillowed couches lie;
1.695.987
deft slaves fresh water on their fingers pour,
1.695.988
and from reed-woven basketry renew
1.695.989
the plenteous bread, or bring smooth napery
1.695.990
of softest weave; fifty handmaidens serve,
1.695.991
whose task it is to range in order fair
1.695.992
the varied banquet, or at altars bright
1.695.993
throw balm and incense on the sacred fires.
1.695.994
A hundred more serve with an equal band
1.695.995
of beauteous pages, whose obedient skill
1.695.996
piles high the generous board and fills the bowl.
1.695.997
The Tyrians also to the festal hall
1.695.998
come thronging, and receive their honor due,
1.695.999
each on his painted couch; with wondering eyes
1.695.1000
Aeneas' gifts they view, and wondering more,
1.695.1001
mark young Iulus' radiant brows divine,
1.695.1002
his guileful words, the golden pall he bears,
1.695.1003
and broidered veil with saffron lilies bound.
1.695.1004
The Tyrian Queen ill-starred, already doomed
1.695.1005
to her approaching woe, scanned ardently,
1.695.1006
with kindling cheek and never-sated eyes,
1.695.1007
the precious gifts and wonder-gifted boy.
1.695.1008
He round Aeneas' neck his arms entwined,
1.695.1009
fed the deep yearning of his seeming sire,
1.695.1010
then sought the Queen's embrace; her eyes, her soul
1.695.1011
clave to him as she strained him to her breast.
1.695.1012
For Dido knew not in that fateful hour
1.695.1013
how great a god betrayed her. He began,
1.695.1014
remembering his mother (she who bore
1.695.1015
the lovely Acidalian Graces three),
1.695.1016
to make the dear name of Sichaeus fade,
1.695.1017
and with new life, new love, to re-possess
1.695.1018
her Iong-since slumbering bosom's Iost desire.
1.723.1019
When the main feast is over, they replace
1.723.1020
the banquet with huge bowls, and crown the wine
1.723.1021
with ivy-leaf and rose. Loud rings the roof
1.723.1022
with echoing voices; from the gilded vault
1.723.1023
far-blazing cressets swing, or torches bright
1.723.1024
drive the dark night away. The Queen herself
1.723.1025
called for her golden chalice studded round
1.723.1026
with jewels, and o'er-brimming it with wine
1.723.1027
as Belus and his proud successors use,
1.723.1028
commanded silence, and this utterance made:
1.723.1029
“Great Jove, of whom are hospitable laws
1.723.1030
for stranger-guest, may this auspicious day
1.723.1031
bless both our Tyrians and the wanderers
1.723.1032
from Trojan shore. May our posterity
1.723.1033
keep this remembrance! Let kind Juno smile,
1.723.1034
and Bacchus, Iord of mirth, attend us here!
1.723.1035
And, O ye Tyrians, come one and all,
1.723.1036
and with well-omened words our welcome share!”
1.723.1037
So saying, she outpoured the sacred drop
1.723.1038
due to the gods, and lightly from the rim
1.723.1039
sipped the first taste, then unto Bitias gave
1.723.1040
with urgent cheer; he seized it, nothing loth,
1.723.1041
quaffed deep and long the foaming, golden bowl,
1.723.1042
then passed to others. On a gilded Iyre
1.723.1043
the flowing-haired Iopas woke a song
1.723.1044
taught him by famous Atlas: of the moon
1.723.1045
he sang, the wanderer, and what the sun's
1.723.1046
vast labors be; then would his music tell
1.723.1047
whence man and beast were born, and whence were bred
1.723.1048
clouds, lightnings, and Arcturus' stormful sign,
1.723.1049
the Hyades, rain-stars, and nigh the Pole
1.723.1050
the great and lesser Wain; for well he knew
1.723.1051
why colder suns make haste to quench their orb
1.723.1052
in ocean-stream, and wintry nights be slow.
1.723.1053
Loudly the Tyrians their minstrel praised,
1.723.1054
and Troy gave prompt applause. Dido the while
1.723.1055
with varying talk prolonged the fateful night,
1.723.1056
and drank both long and deep of love and wine.
1.723.1057
Now many a tale of Priam would she crave,
1.723.1058
of Hector many; or what radiant arms
1.723.1059
Aurora's son did wear; what were those steeds
1.723.1060
of Diomed, or what the stature seemed
1.723.1061
of great Achilles. “Come, illustrious guest,
1.723.1062
begin the tale,” she said, “begin and tell
1.723.1063
the perfidy of Greece, thy people's fall,
1.723.1064
and all thy wanderings. For now,—Ah, me!
1.723.1065
Seven times the summer's burning stars have seen
1.723.1066
thee wandering far o'er alien lands and seas.”